I have not changed

 

Charlotta standing in the sea wearing Kaiko's Olive Anemone Wrap Midi Dress

“You have not changed at all after having kids”, my friend told me, when we were talking about motherhood. And even though I feel as if I’ve changed massively, it was one of the most beautiful things I could hear at this point in my life.

Because what I heard and what she meant by that, was: I still see you as you – as Charlotta.

As if I’ve just gotten a new job, just a bit more on my plate, yet still never losing who I am at my core. It means the world to me that for my friend, I can still be that, the same friend I’ve always been.

Because I would like to be that. A friend. A wife. A sister. A student. A professional. And obviously, a mother. But most importantly, I would always like to be me. Just Charlotta.

To be honest, I miss me.

I feel as if I disappeared last year. Slowly and quickly I shrank away. I’ve never before lost my appetite the way I did last year. It’s almost as if I lost my appetite not only for food, but for life. I couldn’t take the not sleeping, the not resting, the feelings, the lows, the highs. And most of all I couldn’t stand the feeling of depression. Not again.

Close-up of Kaiko's Olive Anemone Wrap Midi Dress by the sea

This time depression felt – and feels – very different. It felt as though nothing mattered and nothing interested me. As if I was just floating through the days, not really being able to hold on to anything. Yet I was still doing all of the things and more – obviously, I’m a mother. All I wanted to do was sink on the couch, yet I got up and went outside every day. To the outside it might have seemed like all was fine. Yet I had no energy for myself left.

Seeking help was so difficult. Somehow it was even more difficult now the second time, but I am so happy I did. Because that meant getting Charlotta back.

First the shape of her, her silhouette getting sharper. Then the colors started coming. The gold to her hair, the pink on her cheeks. She started dreaming again. She was no longer afraid of looking in the mirror – the woman would smile back at her.

Yet still, I have miles to go. I’m still getting to know me after a really hard break up. I’m forever at school learning self-compassion, graduating never. But at least I attend the classes.

I’m actively encouraging my brain, when it says I can’t. I can. That might sound simple, but changing your thoughts is surprisingly difficult.

I don’t know everything, but I know I was put on this earth to make my sisters or friends laugh, to be the avocado whisperer of our family, to wear pink as much as I like and to not be so damn scared all the time.

The cliches are true – no one else is me. And I’ll take that superpower.

I’ve healed before and I’ll heal again.

Charlotta by the water in a grey sweater and Kaiko's Olive Anemone Wrap Midi Dress

Photos from a Kaiko shoot wearing the Wrap Midi Dress in Olive Anemone. Photographer: Anna Salmisalo. Makeup: Maya Winslow.

If this resonated with you, I share more honest everyday moments on Instagram at @charlottaeve.

 

Fatherless

 

brave

I waited for you on my birthday. Even if the house was already full of people, people who were there on other days as well. You had promised to come. Finally you did – leaving my present in our mailbox. Not even bothering to drop it at our door. The present was a pink digital watch. You didn’t know I couldn’t yet read digital numbers.

I have a hard time understanding you did your best, that you simply couldn’t bear come inside.

But I couldn’t bear losing you and I think that should have mattered more.

I have grown into a strong, amazing woman. But not the easy way. I know that at the end of the day it’s for the best, that I have become who I am because of everything. But boy, would I have preferred the easy way.

I know things would have been different, if I had just one healthy, balanced parent. You knew I didn’t, yet you left anyway.

I always had a hard time believing you still cared and loved, that you simply couldn’t bear to show it in any shape or form.

Now I know you don’t.

You laughed and suggested turning to alcohol, when you heard I was in the hospital. It would have been funny, if I wasn’t healing from my attempt at a suicide.

You couldn’t care less of the letter from child welfare.

You moved. You had an extra room. Not for your old kids, no – but for the new ones, ones who weren’t even related to you.

You didn’t buy a car big enough for us, but you used your pick-up truck as we were old tools you could just throw at the trunk.

I wasn’t invited to your wedding. I learned you had chosen a new family by the portrait on your shelf.

I found out I have a little brother by seeing a picture of a baby on your computer.

 

You turned your back, countless times when I needed you. It would have been all the same, if you weren’t my last resort. Asking you for anything was always humiliating, you made it so.

It’s hard to have respect for a man who didn’t put their children first. I don’t have to wonder whether you tell other people about us. I saw the surprised looks on the faces of your friends, when they saw us – all five of us. In your life we don’t exist.

I know you went through difficult times that shook you to your core. You never deserved to experience that kind of pain at such a young age. I’m truly sorry for that. But you can blame your past only so long. When you decided to create life in this life – that should have been more sacred. That was your cue to be a better man.

I know. Because you always have a choice, to choose differently.

It’s easier to get depressed. It’s easier to be cold. It would be so easy to be angry and tired all the time. To fill my empty existence with money. To base my life’s purposes on numbers and a big house, on bragging about a big salary and a huge boat.

But that’s not the kind of life I want to live. That’s not me. I know that there is a burning sun inside of me. I know I have so much love to give, even if I didn’t get much to begin with. And give it I will.

It would be fine to tell you that I have always been my own biggest support. That I have made it all by myself. That I’m a strong independent woman all by my own doing. But I can’t take credit for that. I have had people around me that have done their best to lift me up, to encourage, to shake when needed.

And I’m still sensitive and shy at times. Most of the time I’m convinced I’m broken in some way. I’m still healing and it’s frustrating to ache.

I always wondered, do other people feel things as strongly all the time as I do? Do they think a million things all at the same time like I do? Do they see the colors of the sky, even if it was raining? Do they sense the feelings of other people like I do? Do they ever dwell on the past?

lifestyle

I used to wait for a message from you. So many times in my dreams you held me in your arms, remorse in your eyes, saying you’re sorry. So many times in my dreams did you say you were proud of me. So many times I shouted at you, told you all of this, only to wake up with tears in my eyes.

Finding it so hard to forgive you.

But I want to.

It’s too tiring to hold on to hope, when you’re the only one holding on.

I guess you were never meant to be in my life. And I will never be in yours. I have survived 26 years without your encouragement, without your smile, without your signature on a student loan. I will do fine with another 26, or a hundred.

I’m starting to understand you just don’t belong in my story. I was strong enough without you.

I don’t even have to be the strongest and greatest of them all. That’s your style.

I’m fine with being good enough for myself. I’m fine now. And I think I’m finally ready to let go.

So I’m letting go of the anger, the pain, the sadness and hope. I’m giving away my wishes and dreams of you, I’m throwing away the power of them.

But my love for you I will never let go, for it lies so deep in me, I’m sure it was written in me before my existence.

 

Maybe I’m not yet perfectly fine, fatherless.
But I know I will be.

 

Most of the photos taken by Inka Lahteenaro.
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