A Doubter’s Daughter

Inspirational Ink: Insight for a Woman’s Life

by Tammi Ector Fisse

A recurring theme that has come up in my journey toward emotional healing is that as adults we often recreate our family of origin. For many of us those childhood families may have been dysfunctional to varying degrees, but they are familiar. So we either consciously or subconsciously choose a spouse that is familiar as well. I mean no disrespect to her in saying this, but with my last marriage, I definitely “married my mother”. And though I love her, she and my ex-husband have more things in common than I care to count. A year into my new marriage, it’s becoming more and more apparent that this time around, though my father was an agnostic for most of his life and my husband gave his to Christ at an early age, I still “married my father”. Daddy’s been gone for a decade, but I see him all the time in Greg. The former gave me roots and wings, while the latter is the wind beneath my wings. Natural born “Mister Moms” caregivers and devoted to their families to the point of being willing to die for them would describe both. So would doubtful.

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