Before I say all this, I didn’t read any of my recent interactions because I don’t care what any of you have to say anymore, really. I don’t care if you don’t like me or if you dislike what I said–facts are facts.
Now, I may have said this multiple times but I genuinely mean it this time. I’m not coming back.
I don’t tweet much about my son anymore because I’m sick of being judged, I stopped tweeting much about my life except for issues with my mom I have no one to tell, and now I’m just not going to tweet anymore at all. I can’t stand most of you that sit behind a keyboard on a high horse to judge anyone that doesn’t parent like you or live like you. To accuse people of being bad mothers or being less than you because of your circumstance or theirs. Last year I made an anonymous account to be able to vent to myself about how much I fucking hate people like you. People that make me feel like shit because I don’t have a husband at home to take care of my son and I. People that make me feel like shit because I am single and had to stay with my mother so my son and I weren’t homeless or starving while I finished college and now while I can’t find a job. I came here to escape the exact same thing that is here. I can not refresh my timeline without someone bitching about someone else’s life or goals or wishes or how they choose to live and I’m sick of it.
“You can’t be _____ if you’re _____ but that’s just my opinion.” You swarm to attack those that are offended by your hateful words while you feel silent joy for the attention you’ve brought yourself. “Stay twatching, I’m glad you’re thinking of me.” Like this is fucking high school or like being a bitch makes you something. Like you should be pleased that you hurt someone’s feelings to get your point across. The bigger issue here is why the fuck it matters to you what other people do with their lives. Whether they live with their parents or stay at home with their child or work or party or do anything that doesn’t harm their child. What, exactly, does it have to do with you? There is no one person exempt from life, no one person that knows everything you know, and I can almost guarantee that no one wants to be you. Just like no one wants to be me.
Whether I live with my mother or not, I take care of my son. Me. Not his dad, not my mom, my grandmother, my sister, no one but me. I teach him right from wrong, I discipline him, I praise him, I feed him, I play with him the same way you do, and am no less than any of you because I’m not married or because I can’t find a damn job or because I chose to keep my child knowing I would be parenting mostly by myself. I have many opinions that I don’t bring up because I know they’re hurtful, I read tweets that offend me or piss me off and I keep scrolling, but I have had more than enough of the petty high school bullshit you all call relating. I don’t want to relate by putting other people down, I rarely use laughs at my son’s dad’s expense for that anymore. It’s pathetic and beyond old. Trophies are not being awarding for having different living circumstances, just so you know. You don’t get a prize for having “no help from ‘mommy and daddy'” you get the same shit as the rest of us that struggle to find a way to take care of our children without a husband or boyfriend to fall back on. If there ever comes a day that I’m not helping my son with anything I will be sad. I don’t ever want him to brag about me doing nothing for him. That’s what family is for. It’s not to kick you out on your ass when you’re at your lowest and trying to claw your way out, it’s to stand by you until you have your shit together and can do it yourself. I complain about my mother a lot and I will continue to, but I know exactly what she’s done for me. And I also know that anyone judging me for needing help is a dick that I hope doesn’t ever need help in their entire life.
I have made many good friends here, and I will gleefully share my life journey with them, but I will not be back. You can subtweet and mention me all you want, but I haven’t been on twitter in hours and I won’t be checking it again. I came here to build a fence around myself with women that know how hard it is to be a mom–young, old, single, married, working, stay at home, moms with degrees, moms without, moms in school, dating moms, all of that. But all I’m leaving with is a sour taste in my mouth. There is nothing on this earth that makes you so good at parenting or living that you get to put others down for the way they choose to be. There are some of you that I will miss, but I can’t stand to be around this negativity anymore. Things like this are meant for a season and not a lifetime. I came to tell my story and that’s what I did.
I genuinely hope those of you that feel good enough to judge don’t ever have to experience the things that the rest of us do. I hope your life stays perfect, and for those of you that struggle like me–it gets better. Sometimes you just have to subtract negativity from your life and those of you on twitter that like to act like children are my negativity. People outgrow things, and I truly believe I have outgrown being Single Supermama. I’m not anymore. It seems more like a chore and putting up with petty bullshit I graduated from years ago. If you’re so insecure you have to attack people on twitter to feel like a good woman or a mother you need help and you sure as shit won’t find that on twitter. I can not do it anymore. Can not. Not because I’m not strong enough to deal with your bullshit but because I shouldn’t have to. This isn’t high school anymore, and frankly I don’t want to be in your fucking club. I don’t want to join your bullshit twitter gang that gets off on making others feel like shit then attacking people you offend with your dickery. I don’t want to be anywhere near people that whine for acceptance and judge everyone else that is different than them. And if most of you are the standard of good people or mothers, then I sure as fuck don’t want you to consider me one either–the last thing I would ever want in the whole world is to be like you. Like myself 5 years ago when I was in high school. I don’t want to fear saying what my son ate for lunch because I’ll have to waste energy arguing with someone I don’t even know telling me what I can and can not do with my son. I’m over it. I’m over twitter, and I’m over most of you.
And whether you like me or not, I’m still right, and I still stand behind the last thing I said.