The great thing about an opinion is that everybody has one. I know I do, and so does my alter ego Miss Cindi B. Last week I told you all about me, but I neglected to tell you about the evolution of Miss Cindi B. While filming the show as a first time "housewife," I sometimes found myself in situations that were very uncomfortable for me to deal with. Enter Miss Cindi B.! She stepped right in and pulled me through. The funny thing is, I think that she has always been there, but lately she can't seem to stay out of the spotlight. It's not that she’s mean-spirited; she just tells it like it is. Looking back on my first blog, I think you got your first taste of her then. Going forward, I thought it only appropriate that she be properly introduced. We might be holding peaches, but everything isn't always "peaches and cream!"
So where was I? Yes, Episode 3. I enjoyed talking to my sister about my issues with getting married. Malorie and I are very close. She is one of few that I can talk to about anything. It is really important to me that you guys understand this whole wedding/engagement thing. My mom has been married twice in her life, and in both of those relationships she endured physical and mental abuse. Unfortunately, Mal and I were there to witness some of those painful episodes. We were between the ages 5-17 years old. It killed me to see my mother being mistreated. I vowed that I would never be in her shoes. Being the oldest, I think I took it worse than Mal did and always tried to protect her. She doesn't seem to remember some of the things that I can't seem to forget. It is pretty clear from the episode that she has emotionally blocked out most of those childhood memories. I just remember feeling so helpless and confused as to why my mother could not free herself of abuse. We have since talked about it, since I am grown, and now I understand. It still upsets deeply, but I do now understand. However, my mother's abuse did have a lifelong affect on how I view men and my relationships with them. I was afraid to trust and always felt safer alone and living by my own rules. This attitude made me incredibly independent, but left me also very empty. It took me a long time to realize how much my past still affects me. There are no words to describe how much I love and adore my mother. After all, there is nothing like a mother's love. It still makes me extremely sad to know how much my mother went through to protect and shelter us. What a price to have paid. I love you, mom.