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Part 3.. I don't know how many more posts I'll write about this since I have no interest in doing so anymore. I have no interest in talking about him, I have no interest in dreaming about him, I don't even have any interest in thinking about him. He is history. He is in my past. I have no interest in re-living my past day in and day out. I have no interest in him.

It is like I have accepted it. It's like I have accepted the fact that he wasn't ready to be a father, it's like I have accepted the fact that I will be raising our son by myself. It is like I have accepted that he didn't want what I wanted - a family. It is like I have accepted it all. As if I'm just letting him live his life they way he wants to live it, to party and to sleep around. I think the biggest trigger to this acceptance is the fact that he is not someone I would want my son to look up to. I want my son to look up to someone, a real man, who knows how to treat a lady. Someone who knows the value of family and how to cherish and care for one, someone who would never break a family apart. I want him to look up to someone, a man, who would never choose a party over his pregnant girlfriend nor his newborn child. I want my son to look up to a real man and unfortunately his father is not someone I want my son to have as a role model. I do not want him to be anything like his father, he is so much better than him already. I will make sure he will always be.

Brandon is an amazing little boy, he truly is. He is so happy and full of life. He loves the sound of his own voice, he loves to jump up and down and to dance. He is a great eater, he always wants to eat by himself and he can hold his own sippy cup. He loves swings and most of the days we walk the other way home from our daily walks just so he can swing and so I can see that beautiful smile of his shine once more. His smile could light up a room, it's a very cheeky smile, as if he just played a trick on you. He plays like mad and goes crazy with his toys. Every day when we eat by the dinner table, he sits up in his high chair and throws the toys down the floor and then stares at them as if he wonders how they got there. He "waters the floor" every day at breakfast, he holds his sippy cup down the side of his chair and then swings it back and forth as if he is watering the floor for it to grow. He shouts of excitement and loves to be loud. If laughs could heal, his would heal the world. It would end wars, cure diseases and end world hunger. His laugh is the best laugh in the entire world and I make sure I hear it several times a day. Every morning he wakes up happy and excited - he looks at me with the biggest smile, gives me lots of cuddles and then starts playing with his feets. He is still a bit shy around other people, but he is starting to recognise my friends. He waves at everything and claps his hands. He holds his cotton play ball with one hand and then throws is, as if he knows sports run in his blood. I have taken him to the beach and to my friends pool several times and he loves it there, so much to look at and he loves to splash in the water. He loves the nature and is interested in everything around him, especially while sitting in his buggy. He gets annoyed when he can't grab a spot in a pattern on clothes or on the floor. He sometimes grabs my face and attacks it with kisses and sucks on it/"bites" it. He smiles at the mirror when he sees the two of us in it. He has just gotten first tooth and there are more on the way. He wants everything I eat and always, always, grabs the glass when I'm drinking something. He can take his own nappy off. He is learning to crawl and gets frustrated when he can't go anywhere. He loves to kick, his feet and legs are always going in fast speed and if you lie next to him he will kick you. He loves body contact, he always wants either a leg or an arm on me. He loves books and gets excited when he sees them, sometimes when we read he starts talking in his own language as if he is reading too. He has got the kindest eyes. He can pull the funniest faces.

He is my kind of perfection.

He is the most amazing little boy and I could go on and on about him. He is my son and I couldn't be more proud of him. Seeing him grow up is my true blessing in life and I won't waste one second of it.

He is who he is because of me. I am making sure he is happy, I am making sure he eats well and that I put the right kinds of food down his belly. I care about what I put on his body too, he had bad eczema before but since I have started using a natural brand all of his eczema is gone. It is a brand they only sell in the UK and I asked his father to send new ones because we are running out of them, the lotion and the baby wash, but he wouldn't do it. He wondered why I couldn't just get any other brand for him to use. I care about my sons skin, his father clearly doesn't. I bought the body care products for Brandon online with a £20 shipping fee just because his father is selfish enough not to send anything for his son.

He is growing up and his father is missing out on that just because he chose a different life than to live his life with us. There is nothing that I can do about that than to accept it.

I know I post a lot of pictures of Brandon, it's my way of letting his father know what we do every day and for him to see his son grow up. I have no idea if he looks at them but at least I know that I do what I can, even though he has no interest in our family. The funny thing is, he never, not once, mentioned our family as an important part of his life. That's another way for me to know that we never mattered. But it's ok. Brandon has got me and I have got Brandon. This is by far the best family I could ever dream about. My son and I. My goal in life was to have a proper family, for my children to know that their parents really love each other, and I will always think of it, but for now, it's time to set a new goal. My son saved my life. Seeing my son smile every day reassures me that I am doing the right thing.

My sons father and grandmother praise to everyone that they're good people, that they do good things. They fool every person around them, including me. I am the biggest fool in this.
I wrote a message to my sons grandmother and she said she couldn't be bothered to read it all. That says exactly what I am to them, unworthy. Nothing I say or do will ever matter to any of them, nothing I say or do will ever be good enough for them. They have this idea in their heads that they're better than me, especially because I am young. They always bring up the fact that I am young. I know I am younger than him, and obviously her, but what does that mean? Why does that matter? Does it mean that I won't be able to look after my son? Does it mean that I won't be able to make the best decisions for him? Does it mean that I won't be capable of raising him? Does that mean I won't be able to do everything in my power to make sure he has a good life? Does it mean that I don't know a thing about life? What does it mean? That I'm young. Or is it because I haven't got a degree? That I didn't have the best jobs? What is it? I know my age, I am not stupid like they seem to think I am, but that doesn't mean I want to live my life like any other 23 year old woman. They are not better than me because I am younger than them.

They broke me down, every inch of my body, every inch of my mind. I hated myself. I hated life. They got to me, their words, their actions. They fully broke me down. My sons grandmother claimed that all they did was to love me. Let me stop her right there. No, no they didn't. All they did was to call me miserable and unable to be happy. I wasn't happy because of them. Because of the constant reassurance of not being worthy, of not being good enough, not old enough, not pretty enough, not kind enough, not well dressed, not fun enough, not being a good mother. I was put down by them more than they will ever realise. Yes they came to see me when I had to stay in hospital multiple times, either because of my kidneys or because of pregnancy. But they probably just did it to show the doctors that they "cared" because any other day when I wasn't at the hospital they didn't care one single bit. Maybe it was fun for them to see me being ill so they could, yet again, reassure themselves that they were in fact better than me, stronger than me.

Believe me when I say that I know about life, I know life can be horrible sometimes, but that only means that I won't have my son go through anything that I went through. I am not stupid, I am by far more clever than they'll ever know I am, but just because I don't have a degree to show it or because of my age, I will always be a stupid young girl in their eyes. That's ok, we all know who is doing the one thing that matter in this. Brandon. I am raising him, who are they to talk down on me? I have had enough of their judgements and bullshit lies, I have had enough of them. Go fool someone else and ruin someone else's life. It's all fun and games until people will realise who they truly are.
I'll sip my tea.

I just want to be happy in life, I know his father does too. If breaking our family apart for him to live a life of partying and sleeping around is what makes him happy, then so be it. I just wish he will grow up one day. He is getting old.

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Thank you for the support I've been getting, it means a lot to me. And for you guys saying I shouldn't have written anything, that I shouldn't have posted anything. Take a seat, please. I understand that it might seem a bit childish, I understand that. But you need to understand that I need to write. I need to write in order to let my anger out. I need to write because I can't stand opening up to people face to face. I can't explain myself properly verbally. Every time I try it seems as if I confuse the person I am talking to, it all becomes a blur. So I need to write. I need to get these feelings, this anger out of me. Out of my system.

I will write things fully and out in the open. So other women won't make the same mistakes I did.

I am pissed off. I am so angry with Brandon's father. He claims to miss his son so much, he claims to love him etc etc. But yet he won't sign a paper so I can get Brandon a passport. The laws in Sweden are very strict and with joint custody both parents have to sign EVERYTHING. I need to get Brandon a personal number, it's a number that's used for every individual and without that number you're not able to do anything here in Sweden. Without that number I won't be able to get him a passport so he can see his father who "misses him so much", I won't be able to get him a bank card, I won't even be able to put him in a nursery, school, nothing. He won't ever be able to do anything. He won't be able to go to nursery because his father won't sign a piece of paper. I won't be able to get him christened. I won't be able to do anything with him, he won't be able to do anything in his life. Because of his father. No dentist, no doctor, no nothing. The baby doctor has made up a personal number so he will get the baby check ups he needs. Don't get me wrong, Brandon is a Swedish citizen, he is here legally, he just doesn't have the personal number in order to do things here, to live a life here. Because of his father.
With that being said, I will apply for full custody. For Brandon's sake. So Brandon can live a proper life without needing his fathers signature every time he wants to do something. So Brandon can go to nursery, to school, school trips, doctors, dentist, everything. So I can get him a passport, a bank card. It has nothing to do with taking fatherhood away from his father. It has nothing to do with that. It has to do with Brandon, so he can live an easy life. If his father and I lived in the same country it would be a completely different story, but we don't. And it's not certain his father will live in London throughout his life, maybe one day he wants to move. Who knows. His father will still have the right to see him, and he will. If he wants to. The way he acts right now, he doesn't. He doesn't give a shit about his own son and ruins his life by not signing a piece of paper. I won't force his father to care nor to see him, but I'm asking him to not ruin his son's life. I'm asking him to sign a piece of paper so his son can live a better life than his father, a better life than me.
And for you guys who knows Brandon's father a bit better knows that this isn't something he should want for his son nor put him through.
I am not stopping his father from seeing his son, he's stopping himself by not signing that paper so I can get our son a passport and fly over.
I also know that some friends of his has told him to take me to court so he can get parental rights. Parental rights? Really? I will say it again, I am not the one stopping him from seeing his son. He is stopping himself.
I have no interest in arguing with his father, I have no interest in taking him to court.
If he could get his head out of his ass and several girls pussies, he would realise that. I rest my case.


The reason why this break-up is so tough on me is because he wasn't just my boyfriend, he was my family. Family is a major thing to me. Brandon's father claims I don't know what a family is nor how to live like one just because the family I grew up with was the way it was. Just because my father was a pure piece of shit, Brandon's father thinks I don't want a father to my own son. Maybe I don't know what a family is supposed to be like, but I damn sure know what one isn't meant to be like. I know exactly what one is not supposed to be like. I know what I want and how I want it. I wanted a family for my son, a proper family. A mother, father and children under the same roof. In the same house. Having dinners at the same table. I wanted my son to see both his parents every day. I wanted my son to have siblings from the same parents. Call me old school but I just really wanted a family. Not only for my son but for me, too. I wanted to experience happiness within a home. I wanted to experience the love, the strength, the support a family should have for each other. I wanted my son to experience it all. No need for perfection, I just wanted a family, flaws and all. Hell my nephews even called him uncle, he was a part of our family.


I made a promise to myself when I was younger. A promise I promised myself to never break. To have a family. No matter how much work it would take, no matter how hard it would be. I promised myself to have a family for my kids. My son's father made me break that promise. I am one of those stupid people who believe in promises, one of those who believe you should keep a promise. He made me break it. I was fine with him breaking my heart, but not with breaking my promise. I have no words for how angry I am with him. I honestly hate his guts. I hate every inch of his body. I hate every inch of his mind. I hate his guts. Hate is a strong word, so believe me when I say I hate him.

I don't want to walk around with hate in my mind, I truly don't. I don't even want to think of him, but I do. All the time. He asked me why I still think of him. Why? Why?! He is the father of my son, in case he has forgotten. He was the one I wanted to spend my life with. He was the one I wanted to marry, to have several children with. I thought he was the one. Yet he ask me why I still think of him. Just because I don't mean shit to him, just because our son doesn't mean shit to him, because our family doesn't mean shit to him, doesn't mean I'll stop thinking about him and the life we could have been living. He was a shitty boyfriend, I saw the warning signs from miles away but I stayed. I wasn't always a good girlfriend either, I admit to accusing him of cheating, he was texting lots of girls. He spoke to, met up with and called his ex until I was 8 months pregnant and then started again after our son was born. He could come home at 6 in the morning after partying all night long, smelling of girls. He would rather be out with his friends doing God knows what than to be at home with his family. He communicated more to the people on his phone than to me who lived with him. He never wanted to do anything with me, with our son. He didn't want to plan trips out of London. He didn't even want to take family photos. We had lunch together as a family possibly three or four times, every single time we barely spoke. I admit to throwing balls and a lotion bottle at him, I admit to slapping him. Do you know how frustrating it is trying to build a life with someone who is doing everything he possibly can to get you out of his? I was dreaming of a future with someone who didn't even want me in his tomorrow.

I don't know him properly, he doesn't know me at all. We didn't take the time to get to know each other. We shared one interest in common. Sports. Yet we barely played any. We watched lots of cricket, that was about it. I don't know my son's father properly, but he doesn't know his son's mother at all. What a shame.

Since being here he hasn't done anything for our son nor for me. He hasn't sent any money for our son, no toys, no clothes, no nothing. Even thought that's not what I want from him, I wanted my son to have his father in his every day life. But it would help a lot with some help, Brandon does have two parents, on paper, but only one in real life. I'm the only one who has stepped up as a parent, I'm the only one doing parental things. I'm the only one of us who has grown up even though Brandon's father is 7 years older than me. I am the only one who is being a parent.
He refuses to grow up, he refuse to leave his old life behind him.

He can go ahead, I know he doesn't want this. I know he doesn't want our family. Go ahead. I will let him live the life he wants to live, to be with whatever girls he wants to be with at whatever time in whatever place, I will let him go party as much as he wants to, to come home at whatever time not needing to take care of his son. I will let him have the freedom he wants. He is not ready to grow up, he is not ready to be a father. So I won't let him be one.

Brandon loved his father and Lord knows so did I.

But even though he was a horrible person to me, he still manages to fool everyone else around him that he is a true gentleman. I got fooled too. Trust me I did. I just wish more people saw the truth. How can you think he is this great guy when he has a 6 month old son he does not care for one single bit? How? He broke our family apart, he broke my family apart.
I am done trying to call him on Skype, I'm done sending pictures or write about something new Brandon does. I'm done. I'm done forcing him to be apart of his son's life. If he wants to, he has a lot to prove to me. A lot to prove to his son.
The funny thing is, that no matter what he did to me, he still felt like home. He was my home.
And some days I just want to go home again.

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For the past few nights I have been waking up around 1,2am and I just cant seem to fall back asleep. there are so many thoughts in my head, so much stress and anger, irritation and blame, misunderstanding and hate.


I have had enough. enough of the bullshit, enough of the judging, enough of the lies. I have had enough of being called selfish, miserable, psycho, disrespectful. I have had enough of feeling sad, angry, unworthy, unwanted and like a failure. I constantly feel as if I've failed.


I dont know if I'll write it all or what I'll do, but I will share a few things. I might write it in chapters.


so let's call this chapter one.


I know for a fact that many of my son's father's friends & family think I just took Brandon (our son) and left. which is as far away from the truth as you can get. yes, I left. but I didnt just take Brandon and leave without a reason. believe me when I say I had my reasons.


when we first met, things were great. I wanted him for life. a future, a marriage, a family. I was told by almost everyone what a great guy he was, what a gentleman and a loving family man he was. what a great father he would be if we ever had kids. how he would never hurt me, that they thought he really loved me and really wanted to be with me. I heard lots of great things about him but as a person I dont always listen to what people say about other people. but since I heard it so often I wanted to believe it, even though I, who lived with him, didn't see it. yes he had his kind and "loving" moments with me but they did not happen often at all. I dont wanna write this post as any kind of blame on him, I did my wrongs too, but he is, for a fact, the reason why I left.


I had left him before, twice. but I went back both times. I did not want to give up on him, us, our family. I wanted us to work, no matter how much work and effort we had to put in the relationship, I wanted us to work. I wanted us, the three of us, as a family. but I also wanted us, the two of us, as a couple. I wanted to try and work things out, I wanted to try and try and try until we got things right. I wanted us to build a family, an empire. any man that would WANT a woman, a family, would suck their pride up and build one. men go after what they want. period.


he didn't. he claimed once or twice that he wanted things to work out but they were only words since he did not show it with any kind of actions. a lot of men (or people in general) claim they want something but aren't willing to put in the work to get it.


throughout our relationship I was called lots of words by him, his friends and his mother. horrible words. I have heard a lot of words about me throughout my life but this was from people I did not expect it from. these people that showed everyone how loving and kind they were, why would they be so hateful against me? people who barely knew me and didn't take the time to, claimed I was this horrible person.


I have been called selfish, numerous of times, by my son's father and his mother. selfish? really?

I went to Sweden when I was approx 5 months pregnant and stayed until I was in month 8. I wanted to give birth to Brandon here in Sweden but due to personal problems his father wouldnt be able to go to Sweden for his birth, so I went back to London. in week 36. the last week to fly while being pregnant. I went there so he could be apart of his birth, so he could see his son from day one. so we could be a family. together, as it should be. 

I speak english with my son so he will be able to speak to his father, grand parents, aunts & uncles in London and in the Caribbean. I could EASILY speak swedish to him and not give a shit about his father and that side of his family, but I am better than that. 

I was 22 years old when Brandon was born, it was by choice, I wanted to be a young mum. LOADS of my friends say they wouldn't be able to do it since you have to give your own life up for a good few years. Brandon's needs comes first. mine come second. he is all that matters, that HE is happy. and he is. I am 23 years old and I am raising an amazing little boy by myself, day in and day out. 24 hours a day. non stop and I am not complaining about it. I wanted to have my son, there isn't any time nor room to complain about him and how I don't get any time just me by myself because his father can't grow up and take the role of being a father.

tell me again how selfish I am.


I was called miserable and psycho by my son's father, his friends and his mother.

I don't know how many times I got to hear those words. too many to count. 

I can admit to not being very happy around any of you guys, why would I be when you guys called me those words all the time? would you be?

let me give you a few examples, when I was pregnant I was called psycho for wanting my son's father home with me instead of leaving me every second of every day while I carried his son. 

I was told that I make my son miserable when my son was only a few weeks old and I was on my way home from a friend's house, Brandon was crying of hunger and I ran into two of my son's father's friends that heard him cry, they said, and I quote, "he's so miserable because of you."

when one of my son's father's friend's who really did mean a lot to me celebrated his birthday at a local restaurant I went to say happy birthday quickly with Brandon who was sleeping in the buggy and those same two friends came to me again, looked at Brandon who was SLEEPING and said "oh look at him, he looks so miserable. it's because of you."


let me give you another example.

Brandon was with his grand mother (my son's father's mother) and her boyfriend, they played loud music and I knocked on the door and asked them to turn the volume down because I thought it was too loud for Brandon who then was 3 months old. according to them I shouted at them, slammed the door and left.

his mother rushed into our room and started shouting at me what a horrible mother I am, that I took her son's sperm and now I'm gonna leave with the baby and they'll never see him again, that I dont know how to be happy (one of my son's father's favourite things to say to me too), that I should go be with someone who hits me because that's what I deserve, that I am so disrespectful, so arrogant and she couldn't believe my parents had raised a poor girl like me. and lots more.

I gave birth to her grand child and this is how she would speak to me. yet they claim that I am the one who doesn't have respect for people.

she has now apologised for this but I will never, never, forget these words.

the funny thing is that while she was shouting at me, my son's father just stood there next to her and let her say all those things to me. my son was in my arms and started crying because he doesnt like loud sounds nor people shouting.

that's not the first time Brandon's father let people say whatever they want about me, he NEVER stood up for me, he NEVER told anybody off when speaking poorly of me but as soon as I said ONE bad word about ANY of his friends, hell broke loose and he did all he could to protect them. yet I was the one who gave birth to his son. respect again I see.

and when I confronted him about not standing up for me, he said, and I quote "you needed to hear the truth".


in my eyes, he is not a man. he is a boy who refuses to grow up. a boy who refuses to suck his pride up (what is he even proud of?), step up, be a father and build a family. 

so dear "friends", do not tell me what a gentleman he is, what a family man he is nor what a great guy he is.

he is not. 


he is a great father figure, to ANY other kid. he spends lots of time with his friends families and girls with kids. he is a great father figure

but he is not a good father to his own son. a real father does not break a family apart, a real father does anything in his power to keep one. 

I asked him how he could walk around like nothing has happened, how he could break our family apart but keep pretending to be a good father, pretending to be so kind and loving with his friends families and children. and girls. he said, and I quote "I don't care".

tell me again what a family man and great father he is.


this was chapter one. stay tuned for more. there is lots more to talk about, including my wrongs. I will give you guys the truth.

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tonight it hit me.
Brandon was crying loads from tiredness and (what I assumed was) a belly ache. he never really cries but tonight it was mental.

I will be the only one there taking care of him when he's sad, I will be the one laughing with him when he's happy. I will be the one playing with him, I will be the one who plays lots of sports with him. I will teach him how to kick and throw balls. I will teach him how to swim, how to roll the perfect snow ball. I will take him on vacations around the world. I will take him on walks in the woods, I will show him the beauty of nature. I will drop him off on his first day of nursery, school, university.
I will be the one dressing him, I will teach him how to walk, I will teach him how to talk. I will teach him which shoe goes on which foot, how to tie his shoe lace, to zip his jacket. I will do his homework with him, I will teach him how to cook, how to clean. I will teach him how to iron his clothes, how to do his hair, how to shave.
I will teach him how to be a man. a gentleman.
how to respect women, how to treat them, how to speak of them and to them. I will teach him the importance of making a woman feel pretty, worthy, important, wanted. how to show her off.
I will be the one there for him, through thick and thin. I will allow him to do mistakes and teach him the lesson. I will allow him to live his own life, choose his own hobbies. I will help him help me. I wont give up on him, ever. I will do the best I can and the two of us will be ok.
I will teach him about life, who and how to trust. I will teach him to be stubborn, to fight for what he wants in life. I will teach him how to be better than me, better than his father.
I will be there. it will be me.

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