Category: love

life, love

153 Days

A Graceful Catastrophe

In approximately 6 hours from the time I am writing these first words, it will have been 5 months since I received an email that changed my life.

153 Days.

I used to call it a catastrophe. I suppose, by definition, it still is.

However, I now view that email as the greatest shove into opportunity that I have ever received.

I was in an unhappy marriage. I felt stuck. I hadn’t given it my all to make it work, so I couldn’t justify leaving. We have a daughter, so that complicated everything. Or so I thought.

I am stubborn.

And…

I do not quit.

I don’t run away from things. So, in a crappy marriage I stayed, with virtually daily phone calls to my best friend, complaining about how miserable I was. Almost daily phone calls for years, guys. Years and years and years. Very few people knew what took place behind the scenes. Very few people, even now, fully grasp how ugly it was. I didn’t even understand the extent at which I was broken. It was my normal. Hindsight, though, shows me that who I was in that marriage was a byproduct of how I was treated. I just didn’t see that then. I thought that was who I was. Cautious. Scared, really. Neurotic. Worried about every tiny little thing. A catastrophizer.

Wow.

But this is how I, slowly and without even realizing it, got there…

How do you frequently hear that you add such little value as a wife and not let that get internalized and become something so much greater than that? I decided I had to work harder to seek out everyone else’s validation and approval so that I could be enough in some capacity of my life. Because it was made abundantly clear that I was not enough at home.

I upped my effort and it paid off. I became an incredible mom, raising a little human into somebody who already adds value to society. And I got positive feedback from my efforts. Our bond grew tighter and we are still exceptionally close.

I also doubled my efforts as a teacher and became highly respected at my school. My students, the families, the other teachers, and my admin valued my input. They listened to my thoughts and opinions when I spoke them aloud (a novel concept that rarely occurred at home). They sought me out for advice.

But at home, when I tried, it went unnoticed. The message of not being enough was on repeat. My efforts there were overlooked and disregarded. I was frequently reminded of how awful of a wife I was. Right in front of my face, other women on the street stole his glances (ha! long stares, really), rather than him being blinded by pure love for me. I wasn’t enough. I was worth so little, in fact, that it didn’t matter to him that he did those things blatantly and right in front of me. And then, my own perceived value as a wife, and therefore, as a woman, slowly waned.

Over the years, I internalized it. I wasn’t enough. If I wasn’t “enough” at home, then how could I be enough for anyone – even myself. So, that black cloud hung over my head, creating this persona that had to hyper plan everything and fear the worst, because surely since I was such a failure as a wife, I must also be on the verge of failing everywhere else, too.

That is who I was for at least the last 6 years. And who I absolutely was 153 days ago. A beaten down version of myself. Guys, I seriously entertained the idea about taking him back! I didn’t value myself enough to fully believe in myself and walk away.

Well, until there was a breaking point and I filed straight away the next day. But that’s another story for another day. It might even be in an earlier blog, I cannot recall…

But now? Ha ha! I had my epiphany and I see my worth. And being “enough?” Psh, I am way more than enough.

Now? Man, oh, man… Now I know who I am. And watch out, world, because as my friend worded it on our way to volleyball yesterday in the car, I’m a dime.

I. Am. A. Dime.

And I know it. Now, boy, do I ever know it.

And nobody can take that from me ever again. If you don’t see my value in your world, then that is just fine. I get it now. It’s not about me. It’s about you. You don’t have to like peaches. (Hmm, I’d thought I’d written about that, too. But, in a nutshell, it’s a reference to my favorite quote: You can be the ripest, juiciest peach in the orchard, and there’s still going to be someone who doesn’t like peaches.) It’s not up to me to change to fit your definition of who I should be, who is enough for you. I am enough just the way I am. If you don’t like me, then that is about you, not me. I get that now. I’m done taking it personally. It was never about me not being enough. (Oh, found it. Looks like I wrote all of this same type of stuff a week ago here. This topic has been a hot one for me lately.)

I wouldn’t be where I am today, with all this potential that lies before me, had I not received that email 5 months ago.

Five months. *shaking my head* Goodness, it feels as though that was a lifetime ago. And I suppose, in many ways, it was.

Without that woman having the courage to write me, I would still be questioning my self-worth. I would still be relatively unhappy.

Today, there is so much excitement in my life. Gah! There’s a whole load of things to be excited about. My energy is radiating happiness and my heart is open to being vulnerable.

My life has not aligned, professionally and personally, for years. Typically, things were wonderful professionally speaking and kind of, meh, personally speaking.

Not anymore. I am excited about both my professional and personal future. I have magnificent and fantastic dreams for me professionally that I am actively chasing down. Dreams that mesh perfectly with my many passions. Dreams that are realistically attainable. Actions in hot pursuit of those dreams that are pulling me in several different directions and keeping me awake at night from the buzz of the potential. It’s exhausting and exhilarating.

I am excited to live this life! Just a short time ago, I’d written that I wanted to fast forward and that I didn’t want to live this life that was unfolding. I am so grateful for the last 153 days and every single thing that occurred during them. They have meticulously molded this being into who I am today. And I love her.

I fully grasp the idea that when you live, especially when you live out loud and without fear, as I do now, a potential side effect of living like that is pain. I know I may get hurt again. I also know that if I don’t allow myself to be open to that possibility, I will miss out on the opportunity to truly live – and to be loved and cherished. I want to be treasured by another. I want to feel adored. I am looking forward to being able to shower someone with my love and know that he appreciates everything I have to give. I look forward to the chance at being in a healthy, mutually respectful relationship, where we push one another to grow and become better versions of who we were yesterday. And because I know now that I am enough, I will never settle for anything less than a partner that elevates me and treats me as I truly deserve.

I love that I now realize that nobody defines my worth for me anymore. I am healthier, and stronger, now than I have ever been before: physically, emotionally, and mentally.

I am a dime and watch out, world, because there is no stopping me now.

Yet, I can’t say that I am healed. 153 days surely doesn’t seem like that much time. But, I have grown exponentially. I have had so many epiphanies and have learned a great deal on this journey thus far. Honestly, it feels as though a fire is burning within, burning so brightly that my spark could never be dulled by another again.

I’m filled with light. With gratitude. With vulnerability. With understanding.

This phoenix is rising from her ashes and cannot wait to fearlessly conquer her world. And I am more ready than ever to add color and beauty to whatever shall cross my path.

153 days. Of pain. Of agony. Of tears. Of defeat. All to lead me to where I am today.

I am a dime. And now I know it.

life, love

That’s MY Remote

A Graceful Catastrophe

So, if you’ve been following my blog, this won’t come as a surprise to you.

I’m filled with rage.

But, it’s just sitting there, simmering, so it’s not always obviously present.

Until I get triggered.

My biggest trigger is when my ex says things like, “I would’ve never cheated if you’d been a better wife.”

Guys, I go from zero to a million. Like that. *snaps fingers*

When I went to see my therapist earlier this week, I asked for help to control my anger. I hate that I’m living with such a terrific loathing towards him. I also can’t stand that I give him the power to illicit such pure wrath towards him.

I need to figure it out. Perhaps I cannot forgive him…yet, but I can learn how to release my anger. I have to.

So, I have to learn how to take my power back.

I had absolutely no clue how to do that.

And then my therapist explained it to me. And things started to make sense.

I’ve already re-framed his betrayal as an opportunity for me, for a new and improved life. So, what does it matter that he blames me for cheating? He betrayed me, over and over, for almost a year. That is a fact. It led to our separation. Another fact. Which has led me to living fearlessly and with more raw honesty than ever before, while chasing down adventures, and being given occasion after occasion to explore the world around me.

I’m living my best life.

I’m meeting people I never would’ve met before.

I’m smiling genuine smiles and getting butterflies in my belly from excitement and anticipation.

Life is good.

So, as my therapist literally gave me the remote control back to hold, I realized I should no longer give him permission to push my buttons. Those are mine to hold onto. And I get to choose which buttons are pushed.

I’m holding the remote now.

The other thing he told me was to focus on something else, so it gives my cortisol a chance to lessen again. Well, that was easy. The mountains bring me peace. And so does music.

Do you remember the scene in the Sound of Music where Julie Andrews is dancing and twirling amongst the mountains and singing? Yep. That’s where my mind goes. Except it’s me, twirling and dancing around the open field near A-frame on the hike up Pike’s Peak. (It’s beautiful there.)

And I smile.

Okay, I don’t smile on my face, because I’m pretty sure that’d just make me look crazy when my ex is sitting there gaslighting the heck out of me. So, I smile in my head. As I spin and twirl and sing, “The hiiiilllllllls are alive, with the sound of muuuuuusiiic….”

So, I’m learning how to manage my anger. I had a wonderful opportunity just yesterday, on our daughter’s first day of school, as he sat next to me in the car (she’d asked us to ride together as a family to take her to school, so I, of course, obliged), raising his voice and making all sorts of demands.

One of the demands? He wants to censor my blog. That’s a tough one.

“The hiiiilllllllls are alive, with the sound of muuuuuusiiic….”

I should not be silenced.

But I digress.

So, the remote is in my hand. He doesn’t get to push my buttons anymore. My anger is dissipating and I keep remembering what a wonderful opportunity he has given me.

One day, I will be treasured by a man. Someone who sees my worth and lives in astonishment that I am his. And I will adore him right back. I know what love is – and what love isn’t. I will not fall victim to gaslighting or narcissism again. My eyes are open and my level of awareness is at an all-time peak. And I know what I want and I won’t settle for less.

The sense of freedom and weightlessness of this new life is incredible.

So, with all of these wonderful and exciting details in my life to live, why harbor such toxicity?

I shall not. And I will not. Because I own this remote and I’m never giving it to him again. (Or to anyone else.)

And when he tries to take it from me? I’ll smack his hand and start to sing at the top of my lungs, figuratively speaking, of course, because it’s really all in my head, “The hiiiilllllllls are alive, with the sound of muuuuuusiiic….”

life, love

I Am the Cheese Dip

A Graceful Catastrophe

I have about a 4 minute drive to my gym. That’s it. It’s through my neighborhood and across the street. Today, those 4 beautiful minutes brought me a realization that rattled me so hard, that I cried.

A few weeks ago, I was chatting with a friend and he asked me the following: “If you could have anything in the world right now, what would it be? Be selfish, say exactly what comes to your mind.”

So, I did exactly that. I told him: “To be enough.”

His response was to ask for clarification. Did I mean for myself or for others. I told him, “Both.”

This interaction has weighed heavily on my mind, for obvious reasons. It was an incredibly vulnerable moment.

A week ago, I did the Manitou Springs incline with my bestie. While spending the morning together, many topics came up, of course. We’re friends, with busy lives and rarely get quality time like that. So we chat non-stop – even when we can’t breathe because we’re climbing almost 3,000 steps. *chuckling* Anyway, the topic of me not feeling like I’m enough came up.

And it’s haunted me since.

Then, like a lightning strike to my core, in a bitty little 4 minute drive this morning, out of the freaking blue, it hit me. I am enough.

I AM ENOUGH! *grinning like an idiot* I really am. *cue the tears*

It hit me like a ton of bricks, seriously. I was listening to a song…and then I was crying. And smiling. I can’t even remember the song.

I’ve always been enough. I’ve always been enough for me and for others around me. It was him who made me feel otherwise. It’s always been my ex. That’s not my issue – it was his perception that he reflected back at me. Perhaps it is he that feels that he isn’t enough? And he projected that onto me for years?!

Who knows. All I know now, after reflecting back on who I have been, especially in the last month or two, is that someone wouldn’t be as raw and authentic as I have been if they struggled with self-worth, or with feeling like they’re enough.

My interactions are pure. And if you don’t like what I say, what I believe, who I am, then it’s really no skin off my back. You see, I have this phrase that I love, “You can be the ripest, juiciest peach in the orchard and there’s still going to be someone who doesn’t like peaches.” If someone doesn’t enjoy your company, it probably has more to do with them than it does with you.

Because you are enough. And so am I.

I don’t see it as rejection and I don’t take it personally if somebody stops talking to me. It’s their prerogative to walk away. And it has more to do with them than it does with me. Because if it were really about me, and they cared enough, they’d approach me, talk with me, ask me the hard questions, and value the conversation. Like my bestie did last week. If they just walk away, then it’s not about me, and I don’t internalize it.

If I didn’t, deep down, think that I was enough, that wouldn’t be my response. It’d eat me up inside. I’d take it personally and something inside of me would be devastated.

But I am so secure with who I am that I’m pretty much completely unaffected. I mean, am I sad that I’ve lost friends? Sure. But, that’s all a part of life. Some people are just in your life for a season. And that’s just fine. I get it. Sometimes the friendship comes back full circle and if it does, wonderful! But for now, it’s like, I shrug my shoulders and move on. I’m done fighting to shove a square peg in a round hole. You don’t like peaches? Cool. Seriously. I’m not going to jam them down your throat or disguise them in a smoothie. *shrug*

So, I cried. Because I’m free! I’m finally free of the bricks that have been weighing me down, that I allowed my ex to place on me, one brick at a time, over the years. I never realized they were there, as there was such a subtle (and, at times, not so subtle) art of putting them into place.

Those closest to me have spent a lot of energy trying to take those bricks off. Telling me that I’m enough. But I just couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t wrap my head around how I could be enough when it had been ages since his actions showed me that I was enough. And then, for him to betray me? Insult to injury. Of course I wasn’t enough.

That was my thought process. Anything they said to tell me otherwise, was erased when he reinforced my thoughts by showing me that I wasn’t enough for him. Actions speak louder than words, don’t they? I wasn’t valued. So, that was my fault. Because surely I couldn’t have been enough or else we could’ve had one conversation without his phone in his hand (for example).

But – I am enough. And I always have been. I see that now. Geez…finally!

All of my actions are of someone who really doesn’t care what others think – because deep down inside, I’ve always known that I’m enough. I just had to dig my own way out from under the pile of bricks. I’m not out to behave in a way just so that it pleases you. I’m me. And I’m a delightfully juicy peach.

Or, as my friend told me. I’m not the free salsa. I’m the damn delicious cheese dip you probably pay way too much for.

Because I’m worth it.

life, love

Happy Anniversary

A Graceful Catastrophe

By the time I publish this post, it will be August 7, 2019. My 9th wedding anniversary. To the husband I am still legally tied to but for all intents and purposes, is very much my ex.

It’s weird. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about this anniversary. I mean, this time last year, he’d already been cheating on me for months! And we went out to dinner and celebrated our marriage. What a joke! I mean, goodness, when I look back at that dinner and that night, my blood boils. What a betrayal…

You can see it in this second, forever frozen by the phone’s camera that night. Look at his eyes. How did I miss this…this…”lacking” towards me. It’s just empty – and looking nowhere near me. This is the face of someone celebrating his 8th year wedding anniversary while he had been cheating on me for the last 3 months – and would go on betraying me in a hundred different ways for the next 7. Captured forever in this still. Let’s be perfectly real, here. He probably even talked to some lovelies that very day!

I guess that’s why I’m not really emotional about tomorrow. At least year 9 is being done honestly. Last year should’ve never been celebrated and I’m glad tomorrow won’t be. It’ll be a normal, busy day, filled with the typical Wednesday activities.

For me, right now in this moment, that is the hardest part to process through. To look back at memories and realize exactly what a sham it all was. To realize your whole life for 10 months (at least) was a complete lie. I felt bad for being a crappy wife. I sought out suggestions from male friends in the hopes they could enlighten me so I could be better, and do better.

Because I’d been convinced it was me who needed to be better. To do better. And of course, I definitely was lacking as a wife. Considerably so. I also wasn’t being nurtured. Or treasured. God, how my heart was starving for love and affection. I just wanted him to like me…to be nice to me. It sounds so pathetic.

I was talking with a friend tonight about my “bar.” Be nice. That’s it. He said he’d like to find a princess. Wait, no…a Princess. He’s a bit younger. Never married. And he deserves a bar that high.

I just want someone to be kind to me. That’s my bar at this point in my life. *sigh*

In the meantime, though, the world is my oyster. Every single person I make eye contact with is a potential new connection, a chance to learn about someone else’s life. To hear their story. Every new experience I pursue is another opportunity to face my fears. To challenge who I once was and become someone better. My mentality as of late is a, “Who cares, why not?” mentality. And, boy! Is it working for me!

There’s something about my energy right now that is exciting. I literally feel like my world around me is buzzing. It makes my heart race. My Colorado bestie and I have some irons in the fire that excite me like a 6 year old on Christmas morning. The people I continue to meet, the conversations I have, the random chance encounters while climbing up or running down mountains, or because I just decided one day to send a direct message to a stranger on Instagram…I am open to it all. And the universe is responding beautifully. It all adds so much value to my life.

I have met the most incredible people! With some, well most, really, I feel this instant connection with – like they are my long lost people. We can talk about anything. And we do. I think maybe it’s because I’m blunt. I just put it all out there. I’m not shy about my thoughts, my feelings, my intentions. And I’m more honest than I’ve ever been in my life.

Because I have nothing left to lose.

And absolutely everything to gain.

So, this year I’m giving myself my 9-year-anniversary-of-our sham-joke-of-a-marriage gift.

The gift of binoculars. No, really, follow me here.

Just shy of a week ago, I was in a pretty dark place. It was only 6 days ago and the world felt like it was collapsing on top of me. I was in the middle of the darkest tunnel and couldn’t see the light.

Because I hadn’t given myself my gift yet.

So, this gift. Tell me, what function do a pair of binoculars serve? According to Azo Optics:

Two objective lenses are situated at each end of the binoculars. The purpose of the objective lens is to collect light from the object that the user is looking at and bringing the collected light into focus in the eyepiece lens, which creates a visible and magnified image.

And because this word is used, and details matter, the definition of objective, according to Google Dictionary: not influenced by personal feelings or opinions in considering and representing facts.

“Not influenced my personal feelings or opinions…”

So, here’s my gift: I have this theoretical tool, immediately at my disposal the second I require it, that will remain clear and logical in helping me to see what is, in fact, right in front of me. I’ve just been unable to focus in and see it. So, my binoculars will gather that light that I couldn’t find a week or so ago, and bring it right up close to me, so close that it is not only visible, but envelops me in the magnified, warm glow, allowing me to see all that is good around me, giving me no choice but to focus on that, instead.

What an incredible gift.

life, love

Snitches Get Stitches

A Graceful Catastrophe

Life is weird, right? One day, you’re trucking along on your path, minding your own business, and then a semi-truck blindsides you.

It happens to all of us.

We’ve all been shaken up by something and it doesn’t really matter how you choose to describe it, what words you use to help you define it. You get rattled to your core by some defining moment and then you respond.

I have chosen to respond through writing. One day, I’ll write a book. Every day that passes, I feel my confidence and determination grow.

I will be a published author one day. I feel it down to my bones. In my gut, I know this to be true.

Writing is magical for me. There is something that occurs between my thoughts and my fingers. I feel this immense release once I’ve painted these intangible reflections bustling about within my head into black and white, as words form sentences and sentences form full blog posts.

But not everyone finds my words magical.

In fact, I’ve been accused of exaggerating the truth.

I couldn’t disagree more. These are absolutely my truths and my reality. Every single blog I’ve written has been done so with raw, blunt honesty as I process through the shit storm that has engulfed my world. Currently, I don’t know how to live any other way.

My life was shrouded in such blatant deceit that the only way I can combat the feelings roaring inside is to move forward with pure and frank sincerity.

I also strongly believe in karma. And fully accept that I am not immune to it. So, let me tell you a little story…

While running down a pretty sketchy trail yesterday, I hit uneven ground and lost my footing, causing my left ankle to completely collapse. I fell directly on my right knee, with barely a moment to put my hands down. My leg got a pretty gnarly gash.

It wouldn’t stop bleeding all day, so tonight I went and got stitches.

And I haven’t been able to stop chuckling since. The irony is not lost on me. Karma, I feel you.

Snitches get stitches.

My ex hates what I write. I mean, H-A-T-E-S it.

Should I perhaps leave a little bit of my reality a mystery and not “air out the dirty laundry?”

Hmm, I actually don’t see the problem in what I’m writing. Because it’s real. And nobody is real anymore. How can anyone truly connect, human to human, without getting a little dirty?? You can’t. You. Simply. Cannot.

Now, what my ex argues is that I am not sharing 100% of the details of 100% of my life. I am not sharing stories about my dates (though, as I was talking with a friend this weekend, I think that would be a cool book option. I have had quite a few very interesting moments that would make for an entertaining read. And the stories I’ve heard! I love hearing other people’s stories! You guys are a fascinating bunch and some of you have lived more life than I probably ever will. I’ll never tire of hearing your stories.)

But here’s the thing: I am not sharing all aspects of all parts of my life because not all moments need to be processed to this level.

Blindsided.

Semi-truck.

Cannot catch the swirling chaos inside my head.

So I write.

And somehow, after writing, I no longer have the desire to attempt to catch the hurricane and shove it in a bottle. The pandemonium within all comes out in a relatively calm and coherent string of words that forms something you connect with – and not because you want to attack my ex, but because you understand my struggle and my pain. Because you’ve struggled. And you have pain, too. We are not alone – no matter how alone we feel.

It’s not about him. And anybody worth their salt will understand that when reading my blogs.

I write about this topic because this is what I need to process. I write to figure out how to ignore the text blasts of venom and still try to believe that I am enough (still actively working on that bit). I write to figure out how to get strong (emotionally) – and remain that way. Because I am so emotionally exhausted (at times) that I feel laden with literally tons of bricks, all stacked on my shoulders, the weight of my world heavy on my soul.

But because I write, little by little, the bricks are removed. One by one. One moment at a time. One blog at a time.

By, me. And, because of this connection, by you.

Because so many of you get it. You’ve been there. You read what I write and interpret it as you like, seeing how it fits your own personal narrative. Pain is pain.

And then you reach out to me and encourage me. You share with me. You connect with me.

When I write, people don’t come to me about what a lousy person my ex is (because, when you peer into his soul, you do see a kind spirit). You all just don’t read that. That’s background noise. What you get from my blogs, at least, what I have interpreted from your comments, messages, and stories, is that you feel it, too. In your own battles. In your own lives. And you reach out to me because you see that I’m hurting. You acknowledge and validate me. You all remind me, sometimes daily, that I am enough. So I can believe it, too.

You see me.

That’s what these blogs do.

What my ex doesn’t understand, but you all do (at least those of you that reach out to me) is that the motivation here isn’t to bash him. It never has been. This isn’t about him at all.

It’s about me.

My pain as I process this catastrophe.

My inability to grapple with the idea that I am enough.

My battle to fight for some level of understanding as I deal with the aftermath of the catastrophe.

A friend told me tonight that my colors had been dulled. And one day I’ll figure out how to sparkle again. She reads my blogs. She understands.

This isn’t for him. This isn’t about him. My writing is nothing more than an attempt to sparkle again. To process this reality in the best way that I know how, using the one medium I’ve been passionate about my whole life – through writing.

So I will continue to write.

I refuse to be silenced.

Snitches get stitches.

So be it.

I’ll end with the lyrics of one of my newest favorite songs, Speechless, which happens to come from the Aladdin Soundtrack:

 "I can't stay silent
Though they wanna keep me quiet
And I tremble when they try it
All I know is I won't go speechless."

These blogs have brought me through the darkness in a way that I never imagined. And I’m finally beginning to see the light. I won’t be silenced now.

life, love

I Cannot Forgive

A Graceful Catastrophe

I fully understand that forgiveness is about me and not him. I get that concept.

I just cannot forgive.

And I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to.

I’m constantly triggered. His persistent and unrelenting need to validate his infidelity and his complete inability to grasp the magnitude of his betrayal strikes a fury within that burns hotter than what I’m assuming drinking pure hydrofluoric acid would feel like as it devours me from the inside out.

Which is why forgiveness is so important. Because this savage storm that, at best, is a windy, raging thunderstorm, lives within, ready to explode into a full-blown Cat 5 hurricane at a moment’s notice. It’s toxic. And I feel it eating away at me.

It’s been especially difficult lately because he’s been so smug. He hasn’t accepted any responsibility lately. At the beginning, when it first all happened, he was humble and apologetic. He understood what he did was wrong. He acted like a real man, owning up to his indiscretions.

Lately, though, as we get closer to finalizing the separation, and finally separating all our assets (ie, the house), he has become this self-righteous twit, attacking me with every text he sends.

Perhaps it’s because any semblance of control he thought he had is now ending. The papers have been signed and all that is left is the court’s judgement.

So, how do you forgive someone for not just one heinous act, but for revolting behavior that lasted for almost a year, when he doesn’t assume any responsibility for it. Not only that, he literally blames me, telling me if I’d been a better wife, he never would have had to cheat.

Literally, that was a text message I received. “…had to cheat.” What goes on in a person’s mind, how warped does it have to be when you genuinely believe that you “have to” cheat?! Now, I get how infidelity occurs. I understand how a person can even justify an act of infidelity. But to betray me for over 10 months with multiple “lovelies” around the country? And then come back home for the weekend to berate me and tell me how awful of a wife I am?

Yeah, that I can’t wrap my head around.

All the while, I am *trying* to maintain the house, raise our daughter, run a brand new business, run around like a maniac, take our daughter to all her things, just so he can travel as much as he can “for work” but really, it’s to sleep with more lovelies.

Yeah. I absolutely cannot forgive.

Not yet, at least.

So the storm rages on. The poison slowly erodes my patience, my kindness, my ability to respond with grace. Well, I haven’t been able to respond with grace for months now. The aggravation is just far too intense.

Which tells me that I must forgive. Because it’s for me and not for him.

But – oh. my. goodness, that just feels so impossible.

So maybe I can just give myself permission to hate him – for now. To understand that his behavior is harmful, venomous, even. And not worry about forgiveness just yet. The pressure I have put on myself to try to find a way to forgive him, to respond to him with grace, is just as emotionally taxing as it is to deal with him and all his abusive rants.

I know that it takes a remarkable inner strength to forgive and to respond with grace. I just don’t have that in me right now.

I read a post on Instagram that really hit home:

Closure doesn't come from another person. Closure comes from a peaceful acceptance and surrender that we have internally." 
- Vienna Pharaon

Yep. Nothing internal is peaceful right now.

I struggle with self-worth, with the concept of being valuable to a partner. I feel unloveable – romantically. I don’t believe I’m capable of being in a successful relationship. I don’t believe in my ability to fall for a man that truly loves, values, or respects me. I have allowed my ex to ruin that side of me – and now it has to be built up again.

And that will take time.

And, oof, so much inner strength.

So, I’d rather put my efforts into remembering that I could be an asset in somebody’s life, that just maybe someone could see my worth, that I could be treasured, rather than try to forgive someone who is unable to be a man and face what he actually did to his family. He didn’t just break one marriage vow. He didn’t simply “cheat.”

What he did was far more destructive than that. And incredibly multi-layered.

Which is why I cannot forgive. Not yet.

life, love

Only the Beginning

A Graceful Catastrophe 
 How long can you wait for the one you deserve?
Light on, never let it out, never let it out
If I'm gone, if you ever leave I hope that you learn
To fight on, to fight on

Don't tell me this is all for nothing
I can only tell you one thing
On the nights you feel outnumbered
Baby, I'll be out there somewhere

I see everything you can be
I see the beauty that you can't see
On the nights you feel outnumbered
Baby, I'll be out there somewhere 

- Outnumbered
Dermot Kennedy

As much as I’d like to think that I’m hardened against the world and I’m protecting my heart from any kind of future pain, I just cannot deny who I am.

I am a hopeless romantic.

I always have been. Now I know I always will be. If this catastrophe (and yes, you lovelies that continue to read my blog, cringe all you want at that word, that’s exactly what occurred in my life 130 days ago, by definition. And hey, thanks for being a reader, by the way! *wink*) didn’t break me from believing true and beautiful love exists, that someone will treasure me and respect me one day, then nothing will. It’s who I am to my core, I guess, a beautifully naive and hopeless romantic.

It’s one part of my essence that was not altered. And I’m truly grateful for it.

But, it means that I cry whenever I hear this song. Like, ugly cry. It doesn’t matter where I am, or what I’m doing, if I hear this song, it’s over.

Because I want so desperately to believe it’s true.

So many of my nights, I feel outnumbered. I feel the weight of this chapter putting so much pressure on me that it physically affects me. And some days – goodness, so many days – it takes all my energy just to stay upright.

Since hearing this song, though, my perspective is starting to shift slightly. When it all feels so heavy that I just don’t want to get out of bed, I now think of these lyrics. Somebody out there is meant for me. And he will help to remind me of who I am on the dark days that I forget.

How long can I wait for the one I deserve?

A lifetime, if I have to.

I’m on a path I never expected to be on, really. Our marriage was crap for a long time, I just never thought it’d ever really end. I figured we’d finally decide to fight for it. And when I did, it was too little, too late. He was already long gone – I just hadn’t realized it yet.

So now, I have this journey to go on that I’ve finally started to embrace. I mean, it is what it is, so may as well make the best of it. So, now, my philosophy is: if it makes me nervous, I say yes. If I hesitate for any reason, I know that I must jump in with both feet and I muster all the energy and confidence I have to actually go through with it. But I do it.

And because this is now my attitude, amazing things have happened! I’ve met the most incredible people and have had the loveliest of connections. I’ve gone on midnight motorcycle rides that have taken me places I’ve never been, hiked a mountain with strangers, some of whom became people I want to learn as much about as I can and would be so sad if they weren’t in my life anymore, and I’ve had countless other encounters that have filled my soul.

And this is only the beginning.

One of my favorite things about this journey so far is that I’ve learned that people are good. Honestly. I learned that. I used to be so skeptical and ready to mistrust. Now, I have this incredibly beautiful faith in humanity once again.

My energy is changing and it’s changing for the better. This whole attitude of saying yes and just truly living in the moment has inspired a sense of freedom I don’t think I’ve ever had. And I’m getting rather addicted to it.

I’ve never felt stronger, braver, or more empowered. I am showing my daughter that even though we may fear something, it doesn’t mean we avoid it. On the contrary, it means we embrace it wholeheartedly. That never used to be my philosophy. I used to be so cautious. So incredibly cautious that I think I stopped actually living. I stopped enjoying the moments and being silly and free. I’m sure that absolutely impacted my marriage. (But I also had to always be on point, always the consistent parent, always the responsible one. There really wasn’t much balance or sharing of the parenting responsibilities, which was exhausting.)

Actually, now that I just wrote that, something so obvious just struck me. Life changes us. Okay, duh. I told you it was obvious. Seriously, though, without even realizing it, one day we are somebody we don’t recognize. Someone stuck in the rut of life. We slowly become the person we need to be in the situation at hand. Okay, maybe not everyone gets stuck, but I surely did.

I’ve always been strong, a bit reckless, and someone who desires adventure.

But life changed me. Having a daughter being born so sick we almost lost her devastated me. Having a husband who had a hard time finding the line between responsible adult and perpetual 14 year old was exhausting. I felt I had to become someone else in order to maintain balance in our lives.

And now I have this life. One where I am free to be free.

One where I am free to be me.

And I refuse to lose myself again. It’s interesting, going through this journey at almost 40. The first time, when I left my first husband, I was in my late 20’s and I thought I knew who I was and what I wanted out of a partner, out of life. I really did. Now, though, it’s different. And I’m not so naive as to believe that in another 10 years, I won’t have an entirely new perspective and outlook on life. In fact, I hope to continue to grow and adapt and flourish.

So, how long will I wait for the one I deserve?

Well, here’s the thing. I now know what I deserve. I know what I want out of a partner. I know I want to chase down adventures with him and laugh and have deep, meaningful, and emotional conversations. I want to be with someone who is completely smitten by me and treasures me like the gem that I am, even in the moments…no, especially in the moments when I’ve temporarily lost my shine. I want to be with someone that helps me to flourish and blossom and I long to be in a relationship where we constantly elevate one another to the next level of awesomeness.

And the moment it all stops, I know to give it my everything, to devote my energy to the honest effort that a relationship deserves, and then to get out if it still is no longer fulfilling.

Life is simply too short to waste a second on something that, after thought, effort, and consideration, is still broken.

I have seen friends’ husbands who genuinely adore their wives. I know it exists. I know, in my heart and into the depths of my soul, that there is someone out there, ready to point out everything I can be and show me all the beauty that I can’t see.

And I will wait a lifetime for him if I have to, all the while having a blast solo, and saying yes to all the things that scare me.

So to quote Mark Groves, I will end with this:

"And just when you think it's the end, it will be the beginning. You will find someone who will learn the nuances of your soul. Who will be able to predict the tears on your cheek so they may catch them and turn them into a river of desire. They will break the cage that protects your heart so the same light that fills your cells can fill theirs. They will learn why you do everything you do so that in the fleeting moment of fear you will run to them. And if there should be moments of despair, you will land in their arms so they may carry you so high that the only fall you will experience will be in love."

I am not only trusting my journey, I’m skipping down my path with a joy in my heart and a strong conviction that all is unfolding as it should. (Well, the skipping and joy may not be there everyday, but I at least feel it on some days and for now, that is enough for me.)

So, with that same zealousness, I will no longer be here, merely existing. But I will live with more enthusiasm and zest than I have in years.

Because a great many adventures lie ahead in my future. This is only the beginning.

life, love

Basking in the Shit

A Graceful Catastrophe

I’m not entirely sure how many times I cried yesterday but tears were shed here and there for the majority of the day. Insult to injury because I just got my lashes done and you’re not supposed to get them wet for 24 hours. *sigh* It’s 8:35 am and I’ve cried a handful of times already this morning.

Yesterday, the trigger was that my week with my girl was over, she had to go to “daddy’s house.” I have spent virtually every single day of her life with her and now I’m forced to experience 50% of her life now. *cue the rainfall of tears again*

This all just sucks. So bad. My heart hurts for a million different reasons… (Ugh, I can’t see what I’m typing through the blur of my tears.) I still can’t believe this is now my life. In two days it will have been 4 months since finding out about my ex’s infidelity. It’s been 120 days. And I think I feel worse than than I did that catastrophic day – at 6:08 pm, March 17. In fact, I’d say I definitely feel lower now than I have in any of the last 120 days.

But I think I know why it’s worse now. I’m actually feeling now. I’m finally facing it. I was numb, in complete shock at first. I didn’t feel anything. And then I actively escaped for a while, avoiding facing my real life because how in the world is it that this is my real life??? That lasted for a good 2 or 3 months.

And now? My house is empty. My heart is empty. I feel a giant void within. I don’t want to feel that. How can one feel so lonely when surrounded by so much love?

I’m so sick of hurting.

I’m so sick of being triggered randomly.

I still want to run away.

And maybe I will. I mean, I only have my daughter every other week. Perhaps I should run away. I’m thinking a Thanksgiving adventure is a must. July 4 was super challenging. I cried and felt the sting of every second all day long. I can’t imagine how I’m going to feel without my girl that whole week. A week that is supposed to symbolize gratitude and family and love. Yep. I’m out. I’ll need a giant distraction for that one…

Until then, though, I’m here, swimming in the shit that no longer feels like it could be fertilizer (read my blog: Grateful for My Ex for the reference). It just feels heavy and dark and really, really toxic.

On the other hand, at least I’m feeling it. I’m no longer avoiding the pain. I know I have to ride this wave, process these negative emotions. If I keep shoving them aside, I’ll get nowhere but bitter. So as hard as this is, it’s finally time to face my reality. It just might mean that I’m going to have a harder time smiling a genuine smile now – and for a while. And that’s okay. I guess. This is part of the wave, part of the grief. And it sure doesn’t help that these next weeks are some of the worst of the year.

So, if you see me, understand that it feels like someone cut a huge part of me out. I feel vacant and hollow. I feel the enormous weight of this new life pressing upon me as though it were physically there, sitting on my shoulders.

But…I feel it.

And I think that’s progress.

It’s a bizarre place to be, though – feeling. Little things randomly cause such enormous pain. Hearing a husband call his wife, “my girl” with so much love and affection caused a lump to form in my throat and tears fell the second that I could turn away. The sadness feels almost unbearable at times.

Almost.

So, I wrote everything until now this morning, before heading out to work and then getting my hair done. I contemplated not posting it, leaving it as a draft as I have for 7 other blogs I’ve written, because it’s just so dark.

But you know what? So many of us have been here. This place where the sadness is so overwhelming it feels as though you’re drowning and you kind of don’t really mind – you want it to swallow you whole so the hurting can stop.

That’s where I was yesterday and this morning.

That’s not where I am now.

It’s a wave. A constant, fluid drifting of emotions. And I’m feeling them all. This blog is meant to be raw and real and a place for me to process. It also is turning into a place where my words resonate with some of you. So, why filter now?

Yes, I was in a dark place. No, it doesn’t mean I literally wanted to die or take on any direct action to hurt myself. I was just intensely sad.

But I didn’t let it consume me. Sure, I ate some cookies yesterday and went to the bar, solo, for a couple of margaritas (where I became fast friends with an incredible couple, married 29 years!). I also practiced self-care by going to the gym and then (FINALLY) getting my hair colored.

I feel like I’ve got this again. Am I still sad? Of course. Am I drowning in my tears? Nope. I won’t allow these negative emotions to consume me. I refuse to live in the dark place. So, I change my mindset. I focus on the good. I force myself to take direct action that will make my heart happy.

I allow myself to redefine this suck that I’m living in – and embrace it.

And I decide to turn the shit into fertilizer once again. And bask (using Google dictionary’s 2nd definition here: revel in and make the most of) in it. Because I know I am growing leaps and bounds every single day. 

 Even on my weakest days, I get a little bit stronger .
- Sara Evans
life, love

One Breath at a Time

A Graceful Catastrophe

Since I’ve had teeth, I’ve bitten my nails. Years ago, I made the decision to finally stop biting my nails – for the 34,000 time of my life – and finally succeeded.

Recently, I started biting my nails again. When I’m feeling highly anxious, my fall back habit since childhood is to bite my nails. You know I’m struggling internally when the skin around my thumbs are wrecked and I no longer have long, beautiful nails. Last night, I looked down at my hands and realized that not only are my nails gone, the skin around most of my fingers is looking pretty raw. Great. That looks attractive and feminine. *rolls eyes*

I’m riddled with anxiety and a million difficult emotions. Obviously. It’s been less than 4 months since my ex’s lovely emailed me and broke the news of the double life. I’m still being randomly blindsided by new feelings of betrayal that slowly simmer into awareness.

But this next month just makes everything worse.

On July 7th, 9 years ago, our friends gathered the three of us at their place and proposed to us, telling us we were going to be married in exactly one month and every detail was either already planned or in the process of being arranged.

On July 12, 2002, I married my first husband. That relationship ended after being together for almost 10 years and the divorce finalized in August of 2008.

On July 21st, 2009, my ex’s birthday, he proposed to me – in the sweetest and most perfect of ways.

On August 7, 2009, I married my now ex in the most fantastic wedding ceremony a bride could dream of – our friends really pulled together an incredible celebration of love.

So, these last few days and the coming weeks are all just painfully awful reminders of failure. I have no clue how to have a successful marriage, how to love and be loved in the ways of fairy tales (which do exist because I see the evidence of fairy tale bliss in my friends’ marriages all around me), or how to be enough of everything necessary to maintain a successful (romantic) relationship.

I just want to run away and come back in September, when all of the pain isn’t magnified by the memory of these dates.

It’s funny. If you were to have seen me today, you wouldn’t have guessed that I was struggling. I put a smile on. I look out to the world with eyes that shine. Because what else am I to do? Allow myself to actually fall into the abyss? Never. I worry that it’d be far too much effort to climb back out. I worry that the grip of this great sadness and the weight of my failures would overtake me. So I fight it. Fake it ’till I make it. I absolutely refuse to allow this chapter of my life to take this smile off my face – even if it’s fake.

But, the truth of the matter, guys, is that, for the most part, it is fake. And it has been for the vast majority of the last 116 days. Sure, I get crazy happy with the “good” in my world but I think it’s because I’m so desperately craving good. No matter how minutely small, I feel it to my core and it absolutely thrills me. Those moments are real. They’re also fleeting.

I’m also fiercely desperate for validation. Logically, I know that I create my own worth. I validate myself and I am enough.

Logically.

Emotionally, the massive feeling of emptiness is breathtaking, really. The void that I’m trying to fill within is far greater than I think I can even begin to comprehend. I’m so grateful that I have an extraordinary therapist to help me work through all these tangled emotions because there is no way I could do this on my own.

And with his help, I hope to one day be able to answer these questions: How on earth do I come back from this? How do I repair the damage within? How in the world do I believe my heart if it tries telling me it’s in love? TWO failed marriages, my friends. And both husbands ended up being manipulative and verbally and emotionally abusive. I saw the warning signs in the first, but failed miserably to see them in the second. I truly suck at this game.

But…I want to be loved again. I just don’t think I’d ever trust myself of being capable of choosing correctly. But then again, I’ll never hurt like this again, so why overthink it all? And it’s not even been 4 full months, so it’s not like there’s anything to worry about in this moment. But I think about it anyway…

So then I fall further down this rabbit hole of over-analyzing everything in my world – do I want to be loved again because I am so hungry for validation? Because I ache for the day that I am enough for another? Because I fancy the fairy tale story, too?

Am I looking for love for all the wrong reasons? The precious little seed of love doomed before it even has a chance to blossom? Why on earth am I even looking?!

Goodness…sometimes it’s all just a bit too much. I know I want to run away. I also know that I cannot. Running would never be an option.

So, I feel it all. I try, in vain, to make sense of it all.

I am hopeful that I will look back on these days and understand they launched me into a wild and wonderful future. Until then, there’s nothing much else to do. So I plaster a smile on my face. And then I take my next breath.

life, love

Grateful for My Ex

A Graceful Catastrophe

If my ex had never cheated on me, I would never have had the opportunity to be who I am today.

So I’m grateful.

How on Earth can I be grateful that my ex betrayed me, you ask? Well, just keep right on reading and you’ll quickly find out.

The other day, I was having dinner with a friend and she fluffed my feathers so much that I’m not entirely sure how I was able to walk out of that restaurant. We met at the gym somewhere around 2 or so months before my world exploded, I think. She says it was around February when we really started to get to know one another, as our friendly competitiveness started to ignite. So, she knew the “old” me, the “married with a child” woman, but also the gym version of the old me, so also pretty confident and semi-outgoing.

Since March 17th, we’ve become incredibly close and she is one of my top “go to” people. She’s been there for me every single day, ready to catch me at any moment, and also has been the one to boldly call me out when I needed it. She’s insightful, supportive, and caring and to say I’m grateful for her is an understatement.

So just the other day, she, once again, (both literally and figuratively) picked me up and proceeded to say all the right things. And I love the analogy she gave.

She said that when she first met me, talking about the “me before,” she could see I had this fire within. Yet, it was small and controlled. Beautiful and radiant, though reserved and perhaps a bit protected, but you could still see it, as though looking at a small campfire through a transparent glass covering.

She said that now I’m like this uncontrolled wildfire that is igniting the world around me. The true essence of who I am, who I want to be, is finally able to flourish. The glass covering has been removed and the spark set alight all that I had allowed to die – there’s no stopping me now. There is nothing to stifle me, and I am no longer living in someone else’s shadow.

You see, my ex is a true extrovert. The life of the party. My ex is just so full of life and fun, and for a long while, complete and utter irresponsibility, there had to be someone to balance that all out. I was still me, still fun, just a subdued, and at times, highly irritable, version of me. Without realizing it, I allowed myself to fall into the roll of “responsible mom” and “boring wife.” And it’s exhausting being the only consistent parent, the one working hard to raise a child that had darn well better be greatly beneficial to society.

My ex didn’t make the greatest “parent partner.” Not only did he travel often, he just wasn’t ever consistent or that into doing the “parenting” part. He was the fun dad. So, since my goal was to raise an exceptional human, and I wasn’t getting that much help from my spouse, that’s where all my energy went. Don’t screw up at being a mom was on repeat in my head. I couldn’t be anything else, it was far too exhausting to be anything but the stable and responsible one.

Now, he has given me freedom. My ex has to be the responsible one now, too. And I can finally figure out who in the hell I really am. I’ve played roles for so many years, but never really fully “being,” anyone. I was merely existing. And, guys, ugh…man, was I ever afraid. I was intimidated by the world around me. I was comfortable in my role, being the hard working teacher, the good mom, the responsible, rule following woman. Anything outside of my comfort zone made me super nervous.

Then, March 17th at 6:08 pm, my world became incredibly uncomfortable. And there was nothing I could do about it. My new reality hit me like a complete shit storm and I was covered in it for a while. Through the storm, though, I’m coming out stronger. It’s like it ended up being fertilizer and I’m growing like crazy. *get it? hahaha*

I’m no longer afraid. My interactions with the world have completely changed. My friend told me something along the lines that I put out this energy that attracts others – it’s like I’m glowing and they are drawn to the warmth of my light. (See? I told you she super fluffed my feathers.)

And it’s true. She’s absolutely right. No matter where I go, it seems, I either know someone or I find myself talking with someone new within a few minutes. These interactions add so much value to my life! And I am so incredibly thankful for each new encounter because every new experience is helping to shape who I am, helping me to rise above who I once was, and blossom into this marvelous new being.

There’s a song on my playlist that is purposely on there to remind me to be grateful for my ex, for throwing me into this new world of mine. The song is A Little Bit Stronger by Sara Evans. Every single time I hear it, a huge smile spreads across my face. Here are the lyrics that are the most meaningful to me:

I know my heart will never be the same
But I’m telling myself I’ll be okay
Even on my weakest days, I get a little bit stronger…

Getting along without you baby
I’m better off without you baby…
I’m getting stronger without you baby”

Sara Evans – a little bit stronger

It’s all so true. I am a new me, thanks to him, and I am getting along okay without him and I know I’m better off without him. Even on my weakest days, I’m fearless. He has given me the gift of fearlessness! Guys, I’m not even kidding – I wouldn’t go to Target after dark, for fear that something awful and catastrophic would happen… *facepalm*

Now, something awful and catastrophic has happened. And guess what? I survived. Not only am I surviving, it has ignited something within that is truly beautiful.

I go to restaurants and bars alone now. Happily. And I hike alone. Super happily! And I even go to Target after dark now. (Shocking, I know.) I approach someone that I want to talk to, without fear or concern, which has led me to engage in a multitude of interesting conversations.

All of these experiences are shaping me. They’re helping me grow into my true self. This is all helping me to discover who I am, who I want to be, and what ignites my fire within. I am not who I once was and I’m so grateful to my ex for that.

I am stronger now than I ever was. And I’m fearless. Because nothing will hurt me like I’ve been hurt. No rejection will be as painful as this has been. For those of you who have been shattered – you understand how freeing this feeling is. Will I fall again? Will life come at me sideways again? Of course! But I now know I am strong enough to stand up and face whatever the universe decides to throw at me. My flame is far too great and has spread into every corner of my world…there’s no dousing this wildfire.

So, ex husband of mine, since I know you read these “articles,” as you call them, thank you. Thank you for putting my entire world into such a tailspin that I lost myself so completely that I had to figure out who in the hell I really am. Thank you for putting me into a situation where I could become fearless.

Thank you for shattering the glass dome that was keeping my flame from growing. Thank you for igniting this wildfire. I will be forever grateful for your actions because without them, I would never have had to dig out from the depths of despair and rise above. I would’ve never had the opportunity to discover this new and fearless me.

This wildfire is spreading and igniting all that it touches.

And from the ashes, “I am getting stronger without you, baby.”

And to your lovely, thank you for taking the time to read my blog – hopefully this one isn’t “too preachy” and “almost unreadable.” *wink*