life, love

Exit 147

A Graceful Catastrophe

Exit 147. Race Rd.

This particular exit has represented a nightmare for almost 21 years. Every single time I’ve driven past it, I get a physical reaction – my heart races, my palms get sweaty, and I have to distract myself so that I don’t really look at it.

Well, that was before this past Sunday. On Sunday, this was the exit we had to take to my sprint triathlon. There was no more avoiding it, after almost 21 years of successfully doing so. After almost 21 years of never taking that exit.

And just like that, there was nothing I could do, it was time to face it.

Let’s rewind for just a minute. It’s December, 2007. A prominent light bulb in my house was out and my husband at the time (this was husband #1) had just left, like, a day or two before and was going to be out of town for the next two weeks. I needed this light bulb. I begged him, with real tears and real fear, to come back and change it…because I had deemed myself incapable. I was incapable of that and so much more.

He couldn’t come back – of course! So, after a few days, I finally went out to the garage, grabbed the ladder, then found the extra light bulbs, climbed to the top of the ladder, unscrewed the old bulb, and put in the new one. And then lost my ever loving mind. In a good way.

It took me just about a full 10 years to move past the trauma that occurred off Exit 147. And all it took was me changing a light bulb. Seriously. The light literally turned on and it figuratively filled my soul, finally releasing the darkness that had suppressed me for so long. I cried, at the top of that ladder, broken light bulb in hand.

My life turned a sharp corner after that. Switching out that one light bulb was monumental.

Such a small act, with such a significant impact. It was truly life changing. And I was blindsided by it.

You never know when something seemingly insignificant rocks the boat so severely that you wash ashore a changed person.

So, now here we are, back to June 23, 2019. Taking that same exit to my tri that I’d successfully avoided for over 2 decades, driving down that same road…such a small and ordinary act, right?

But now, I get to redefine what that exit means to me. It now symbolizes strength, empowerment, conquering of fears…and the best one – delight.

I am strong.

I will rise up.

I have overcome significant trauma before. I have woken up from a nightmare before, stronger, wiser, and happier. I can, and will, again.

Mindset is absolutely everything. I am allowed to define and redefine what certain things symbolize. I am allowed to define and redefine who I am. I am allowed to change and ride the wave and see just where it takes me. I give myself permission for all of that.

Nothing feels insignificant to me right now. The universe feels as though it’s beckoning me into its depths. I feel energized, the spark igniting every cell of my being. It’s begging me to listen, showing me signs everywhere.

Like Exit 147.

I am not who I once was. I am not who I was 4 weeks ago. I feel as though I am so fluid right now, becoming a new me, making leaps and changes with every new sign shown to me.

I’m grateful my eyes are open. I’m even more thankful that my heart is, too.

On May 27th, I wrote a blog that was filled with bitterness and lacked hope. I never wanted to be vulnerable again. I didn’t want another man to have the opportunity to throw me away again. I didn’t want to ever love again – I didn’t think it was worth it.

Guys, I am 38 years old and today, I feel healthier than I have in a long time. I can’t be that hardened and jaded and bitter and angry. I won’t let such toxicity flourish within.

So, just as I can redefine Exit 147, I can redefine who I am, what I want, and what I’ll allow my heart to feel.

I want to feel loved again. Which means I have to allow myself to be vulnerable. While that evokes so much terror that it is almost crippling, I understand that, in order to live a fulfilled life, I have to be vulnerable. But perhaps, vulnerable with a grain of salt. It’s much more palatable that way. *wink*

I’ve learned a lot about myself in the last 100 days (I just can’t believe it’s been 100 days…) and some characteristics I have always had have been reaffirmed. I’ve never cared what others thought of me and still don’t. I’ve always only half listened to advice, picking and choosing what suits me best. I’ve been like that my whole life and I don’t see that part of me ever being redefined. I am quite confident in my brain and ability to *eventually* settle into a place that feels right within. While I have always known that about myself, I’ve discovered new things about who I am.

In these last 100 days, I have come full circle, I think. I am starting to settle in and things are feeling right within my soul. I’ve learned that, in times of high stress, I am not the one who reaches out and leans on others. I’ve learned that I’m much more apt to take flight than to fight. My skin has gotten thicker and I’ve learned to start embracing the dear Dalai Lama’s quote, “Do not let the behavior of others destroy your inner peace.”

It took me awhile to get to that last one. Like, 98 days…

But I think I’m getting my inner peace back. I no longer want to run away. I believe that I am strong enough to face my reality now. I am definitely strong enough to re-write and redefine my path.

Just as Exit 147 now symbolizes all things strength and beauty, the road ahead of me does as well. Perhaps it always has, it’s just that now I’m willing to see it.

life, love

Suffer Patiently

A Graceful Catastrophe

Life is full of challenges, right? Some we choose to endure, some are completely involuntary.

Endure. That is really quite the interesting word with two distinct definitions. Google defines it as:

  1. suffer (something painful or difficult) patiently.
  2. remain in existence; last.

“Suffer patiently.” Isn’t that a rather beautiful phrase?

I think dealing with the aftermath of this betrayal (because it’s so much more than infidelity, to me) has felt more like definition number 2. It has remained in my existence, completely overtaking my being. It has lasted for what has felt like an eternity already. I have had moments where this betrayal has all but consumed me. And while I have been suffering, I have not been doing so patiently.

This challenge has been one for the books. And I did not ask for it by being a terrible wife or having an awful marriage, no matter what anyone says, thinks, or tells my ex. And no matter what my ex himself says.

Yet, it’s a challenge. It’s here. In my face. And while I did not welcome it, I am living it.

And today, I embraced a different kind of challenge. I participated in my first open water sprint triathlon. Completely voluntarily. It’s an endurance race and a delightful combination of the two definitions. *chuckle*

I embarked on this adventure because I wanted to challenge myself both mentally and physically. I also wanted to face some fears and conquer them. You see, I am not a strong swimmer. I learned how to swim in my backyard pool and created some terrible habits. After taking swim lessons for 6 weeks, I knew what I was supposed to do, I just was incapable of actually doing it. I need a lot more practice. But that didn’t stop me from signing up and, consequently, participating in the open water race. And you know what? I did way better than I had ever thought I’d do on the swim. And you know what else? I actually enjoyed it!

Fear faced…and conquered! *huge grin*

Some challenges we don’t ask for – yet they still force us to face unpleasantness and decide how we’re going to react to them. Or, do what I did and make almost no decisions for 3 months and let the wave carry me to wherever it wanted to guide me.

Whatever works for you.

Making zero decisions and riding the wave was exactly what I needed to do. I don’t regret it, or any of my behavior during this ride, because it guided me to where I am today. And today, I am at peace. Finally.

In a typical tri, you bike after the swim. I can bike for a while without any bother. So, I entered “the zone” in my mind and just rode. Shortly before mile 4, my mind wandered to my current situation. More specifically, it wandered to my ex. At exactly mile 4, tears sprang to my eyes and I almost started to full on cry because I was flooded with the desire to forgive him.

I want to be his friend. (Yeah, that blindsided me, too. I surely wasn’t expecting that today.)

At this exact same moment, I felt a vehicle approaching from behind and it wasn’t exactly going slow. Because I was lost in my thoughts, this vehicle startled me and I went off the road. I forgot my foot was in a cage and when I went to put my foot down, I was unable. I very nearly almost bit it – hard. I was still going pretty fast.

But, I didn’t. I didn’t fall down. Not today. And not in life.

I took a breath, guided my bike back onto the road, and began pedaling my heart out again, annoyed that I’d lost a few seconds there.

While I realized then and there that I needed to stay focused on the road – and the ride – the epiphany stayed with me.

Cue definition 1: I think it’s time for me to suffer patiently. I think I am ready.

I have been undergoing a shift these last 2 weeks and I mentioned it in a previous blog. But, I’ve still been holding on to my anger. All that bitterness has lived inside of me for the last 98 days. I am quick to snap or cry or get frustrated. My emotions live right there, simmering on the surface, ready to get triggered at any moment. This is still the case – but at least now I realize it.

This pain is going to linger. I’m fully aware, as my therapist reminds me, that I could still get triggered by this 5 or 10 years down the road. It’s a journey. And like I said before, it is far more about the betrayal than the infidelity. And this betrayal is so multi-faceted that I’m sure it’ll haunt me for a good portion of the rest of my life, and in ways that I’m still unaware.

Because I know this suffering will persist, at least for a while, I have to learn to live with it without it consuming me and turning me into something – and somebody – that I am not. And this bitterness I taste, and quite possibly could always taste, is beginning to be covered up by something just a bit sweeter now.

I am patient. I always have been. I have not been patient these last 3 months. I have lashed out in anger at moments where I should’ve bitten my tongue. There have been a few episodes where I was a complete jerk to my ex because I didn’t care if it hurt him. I wanted to give him a glimpse into my pain.

But nobody can understand the depth of this pain. That is a gift strictly for me.

And it is a gift. This dreadful catastrophe changed me. Who I once was in no longer who I am now.

Which is perfectly fine, too. I think I’m going to like the new me. Empowered. Communicative. I know what I want and I’m not afraid to voice my opinion about it.

I have endured pain in the form of heartbreak that I’d never realized could exist. I did not welcome it but it is now time to embrace it. It is my story. This is my journey.

I am ready to forgive.

And I’m ready to suffer patiently.

With class. And grace. And muscles. Again.

life

Fight or Flight?

A Graceful Catastrophe

You always hear kids saying how unfair life is, “it’s not fair that so and so gets a TV in their bedroom!” Or, you know, insert some material thing that some friend of theirs, or classmate, has.

As adults, life is still anything but fair.

It’s not fair to get cancer at 33 years old. It’s not fair to kick it’s butt and then struggle with crippling depression after getting the news that you’re all clear, making you, in ways, sicker than you were when you were actively fighting and going through all the treatments.

It’s not fair to grow up dreaming of motherhood, being a young adult and doing everything right to prevent a pregnancy, working incredibly hard as an adult, waiting until you’ve reached a “respectable” and “fiscally responsible” time of your life to start trying, and then finding out that you can’t have kids naturally. It’s not fair to spend 10’s of thousands of dollars and still come up empty. Causing you to feel a void greater than you ever thought was possible.

It isn’t fair to lose your dear brother, your best friend, to cancer, watching him slowly and painfully die and leave behind a family that loves him with every breath they take – and will ever take.

It isn’t fair that, when you’re doing everything your instincts are screaming for you to do, so much that you end up losing yourself in motherhood to protect the baby you almost lost, and then your husband’s response is anything but compassionate and empathetic. It’s not fair to devote 11 years to a man, when he only devoted 10. It’s not fair that now he wants to be a husband and blames me for tearing apart our family because I cannot look past all that he has done.

Life. Isn’t. Fair. You know it, too.

Insert your reason here. You know you have one. We all do.

So what do we do with that? So, okay, life can be shit. My best friend coined the phrase, “shituation.” We all have shituations.

Do we let it overtake us? Do we become bitter and jaded, holding on to the hurt and the anger caused by the shituation? Do we actively escape our own lives in whatever way we can?

Well, yeah. Maybe. For a while, at least.

And then what?

We all know it isn’t healthy to live in that space. Not for any extended period of time, at least.

So how do we get through it?

Well, I’ll tell you what I’ve done – and am doing – and who knows if it’s right or wrong or would work for anyone else other than me. Be sure to take it with a grain of salt.

I escaped my reality. I ran away, sometimes with friends and sometimes alone. Any opportunity where I had no motherhood obligations, I drank myself happy. Drank until I didn’t care. Drank to forget.

I also worked out – obsessively at times. I still do. (I’ve got to counteract the drinking… *shrug*)

And I finally reached a point where I didn’t want to escape anymore. If you read my previous blog, I, at what feels like long last, got to the point where I was ready to face this beast. And I’m now doing so, in very small bits at a time.

Fight or flight. I was in denial for a good month, then flew directly to flight for the last two.

I’m ready to fight now.

Are you?

How are you going to fight your shituation? How are you going to face the utter depths of despair and begin to crawl back from them?

I’ll tell you a secret: there’s absolutely no way I could ever possibly do this alone.

I’ve learned something about myself during the last 3 months. Okay, I’ve learned A TON about myself, but here’s one thing. I don’t reach out. When life explodes in my face, I actively avoid. I thought, a few blog posts ago, that it was only those most familiar to me that I didn’t – couldn’t – be around. But it’s not. I avoid anyone and everyone.

The people I’ve opened up to are the ones who have reached out to me. They’re in my face and I literally can’t avoid them, no matter how hard I’ve tried. I’m honest – to a fault (live out loud, right?). So, if you’re someone who has reached out, and then reached out again and again, and happened to catch me in a moment that absolutely sucked, I’ve opened up to you – probably giving you more than you bargained for. I’ve done this with strangers. I’ve opened up to close friends. I’ve opened up to acquaintances. Anyone who happened to be there for me and just wouldn’t get out of my face.

The ones who have consistently checked in and would check in again and again until my silence and facade broke? Guys, find those people.

I know I haven’t been that person for so many going through their shituations. The energy necessary to consistently check in was more than I had in my tank. It troubles me greatly that I haven’t been able to be that person for all my friends going through their shit. Because I know how impactful those people have been to me. I hope my tank is starting to fill. I can’t keep running on “emotional empty.”

This shituation I’m in has been draining on so many levels. SO MANY, GUYS!!!

And I’m angry and frustrated that it has changed who I am as a friend.

It’s changed who I am as a person, guys. I am not who I was. I’ll never be her again.

I don’t know who I am. Honestly.

And that’s so hard to admit.

I’ve always had a good head on my shoulders. I’ve always been responsible and thought about how my actions would affect my future. I’ve always known exactly what I was going to do tomorrow and next week and next month and next year…and so on.

But for what? All of that for what exactly?!

There is no reality past this breath I am taking right now.

But there has to be a balance.

So how do I find it?

How do I care about how my actions today will affect my future when time and again I have been shown that my future can change in a second. A mere, tiny, oh, so very significant second!!!

Oof, I am angry.

I am on a plane right now. And I’m surrounded by couples, actively loving one another. And I just wonder, when will it end for them? What will be their demise?

Because relationships aren’t infinite.

*sigh*

So, there you go. Real time. Real emotions. This blog quickly shifted from uplifting to anger.

This anger is constantly simmering. I’m always at the edge. It doesn’t take much to trigger me anymore.

And this is just not who I am! I’m not an angry person. I never have been.

Maybe this is the new me.

Distrusting. Angry. Frustrated. Jaded. Bitter.

Do you realize how toxic those emotions are? And they’re all harboring inside of me. Silently waiting to show themselves at the first opportunity that presents itself. And I have no clue when that could strike.

Like in the middle of a crowded plane, as I furiously write this on my phone.

So here we are. Full circle.

You are reading it live…raw. The full gamut of what I live, moment by moment, every single damn day.

Future? What a joke. I can barely process an hour at a time.

But I can’t keep flying away. That’s not reality. And it surely isn’t healthy.

So, ladies and gentlemen, how do we fight?

This life is absolutely worth fighting for. I obviously have no doubt about that. This life, these moments in my life, they all serve a purpose. I believe that all the way to my soul.

From moments filled with hope to moments spiraling out of control and finding themselves settling in rage, they all teach me something.

And they are all valid.

This blog feels absolutely all over the place.

Real time.

Real emotions.

This is life.

It fluctuates for everyone. Though, perhaps, not as quickly as you’re seeing here.

I have been writing for a little over an hour, or so, now.

And this is why I’m pretty consistently emotionally drained right now. And a self-absorbed person. And probably – no, definitely – not the greatest friend.

So, I hope you can forgive me.

And I hope, whenever I reach “the other side” of this shituation, you are still there. Because I love you dearly.

I guess I’m asking for grace.

And perhaps, just maybe, I am ready to start living with it again.

life

Eating the Elephant

A Graceful Catastrophe

You know, there just isn’t any guidebook for how to deal with trauma. When you see someone going through something difficult, you sometimes *try to* put yourself in their shoes. Sometimes people make judgments on how the other person is responding or how they would do it differently. Other people seem rather fascinated and can’t even begin to understand how the person is coping “so well.”

In reality, you just don’t know until you go through it – and even then you have no idea how to process life.

For me, I’ve been processing by choosing to escape. I haven’t wanted to face my reality because the rare moments where I couldn’t avoid them were crippling. So I did what I could to bury it further. The pain from the discovery on March 17 has really, quite honestly, been impossible to bear.

But I think it was because I was trying to face it all at once. I thought I had to eat the elephant in one bite, so to speak. I thought I had to look at my pain, all of it, and try to process it as a whole.

That idea was beyond overwhelming. To think that I had to try and understand what was going on inside my head, to sit down and pick apart the betrayal and agony one layer at a time until it had all been chewed up and spit back out, was inconceivable!

But I thought that’s how it was supposed to be done. Just face your fears, right? Why wouldn’t the same idea apply to facing your trauma?

And do you know how absolutely and genuinely terrifying that is? And I mean “terrifying” by its exact definition: “causing extreme fear,” as Google’s dictionary says. “Extreme,” guys. Not just regular, run of the mill fear, but extreme. Again, thank you Google dictionary for defining “extreme” for us: reaching a high or the highest degree.

I had reached the highest degree of fear and was sprinting away as quickly as I could. I was never suicidal, thankfully, but I didn’t want to live this life. I wanted, desperately, to run away. So I could pretend that this wasn’t my reality. How could this be my reality? How could I ever trust again? There are, I’m sorry, were, two men in my life that I blindly trusted. My dad and my now ex-husband. How could he do what he did, day in and day out, for almost a year, all while coming home and complaining about what an awful wife I was? And let’s not forget about how he sat in marriage counseling and complained about how awful I was there, only to turn around and tell his Ashley Madison lovelies all about our therapy sessions.

Yeah, I wanted to run. Far and fast. How could that have been my life?!

At first, I thought I could handle everything with grace. Of course you should give grace to those who least deserve it. Well, that’s all fine and dandy when you’re in the denial stage of grief. There wasn’t a ton of grace to be given during the anger stage! I don’t know if you can see the hashtags on my blogs, but if you can, and you take a look back, there’s a definite moment where I stopped using the hashtag “living life with class and grace and muscles.” Because I was only living life with muscles.

I was angry a lot of the time, which I preferred to sadness. Sadness shut me down. Sadness made me want to hide under the covers and never, ever move again. Anger, though, anger made me feel alive! I could still laugh when I was angry. I could put up a front and live in the moment and feel free of my reality.

But, that’s not exactly the most healthy way to live…

Like I wrote in yesterday’s blog, there’s a distinct shift occurring within. I couldn’t pinpoint it yesterday but I can today.

The last 2 months, while wild and fun, have still felt empty. I have felt so empty and I have been trying, in vain, to fill that void.

But when the wild and crazy calmed down, I was left feeling emptier still. I’ve never done ecstasy or Molly but I feel like my last 2 months resemble what I’ve heard those highs – and lows – are like. From what I understand, when under the influence, you feel euphoric. But then when it starts to wear off, the coming down from it is one of the worst things ever.

That’s how my life has been. I have a blast going out with my friends, or going out on dates, but when it’s all said and done, my reality is that I’m still alone, trying to process a trauma so great that it has been both exhausting and crippling. And simply too excruciating to face.

There has been very minimal light and the darkness definitely won for some time.

But I had the most amazing session with my therapist Thursday of last week and he gave me permission that I don’t have to face my reality all at once. What?! I don’t?! Oh, my goodness, halle-freaking-lujah!!

Do you know that I felt about a million times lighter after that? I can just live. I don’t have to sit down and spend hours – or days – doing nothing else except focusing on sorting out all the emotions! I can walk through life and just live. And when something triggers me, I can feel sad. I can honor that emotion, that moment, process it for what it’s worth, and then move on. I don’t have to linger there and go deeper and try to understand how it applies to the 34 thousand other layers of pain. I can just process that piece. I can eat the elephant one bite at a time.

Life. Changing.

Friday night was like my grand farewell to the last 2 months. It was probably the wildest, most uninhibited night I’ve ever had. And probably the most fun.

Saturday morning I awoke with a distinct shift in my mindset.

I want more.

I don’t want to feel empty anymore. I also don’t feel the need to escape anymore. Now that I know I don’t have to swallow this elephant whole, I am no longer terrified.

Guys. I am no longer terrified of my reality.

I fully understand what this means for me…it means that I can finally begin to heal.

And that makes me smile.

As I write this, it is June 17th. At 6:08 tonight, while I was out with my girls for dinner, I hit the 3 month mark exactly.

It makes me laugh to think it’s only been 3 months. A lifetime has occurred in these last 3 months! And I’m sure I’m in for a million more changes and ups and downs in the next 3 months.

There’s no doubt my mindset will continue to flex and change as the time progresses. If nothing else, I give myself permission to continue riding this wave, to allow it to guide me through this next phase. At least now, I am facing the challenges ahead unafraid.

This elephant will be eaten – eventually. And I’m giving myself permission to do so one nibble at a time.

life, Uncategorized

90 Days

A Graceful Catastrophe

As I write this, it’s two days shy of 3 months since I received an email that completely and irrevocably changed my world. It’s been exactly 90 days.

When I left my first husband in January of 2008, a lot happened in those first 3 months. A lot of fun was had and life was carefree. Then, by early April, I was in an exclusive relationship with future ex-husband #2.

I can’t even begin to imagine trying to be in a relationship at this point. I mean, come on, let’s be real… I can’t think of ever being exclusive with someone again, but for sure not after 3 months! I was with my first husband from late 1998, when we’d started dating, until early 2008. Almost 10 years together. And just a bit more than three, short, insignificant months later, I was already in another relationship.

Ex-husband #2 and I were together almost exactly 11 years. I didn’t choose to leave him so the way this is going down is significantly different than with #1. My feelings, my heart, my everything, really, is completely changed. The way I perceive life has been catastrophically altered. After #1, I still believed in love. I still saw the world through a set of beautifully romantic lenses. Perhaps that’s why it only took me about 3 months to be in a relationship again.

There’s an interesting parallel that’s beginning to develop between the end of this marriage and marriage #1. After just about 3 months post leaving my first husband, I was ready to calm down some and re-focus my energies. It just so happened to be in the form of a new relationship with now ex-husband #2. Today, early this morning, a feeling from deep within started bubbling to the surface. I’m undergoing a bit of a transformation, something feels slightly different now, in how I’m approaching life and how I see the world around me.

So much has happened in 90 days, yet I still wonder who I am and I constantly question what I believe. I have moments of sadness that are so great that even breathing feels like an impossible task. I have super low lows and also pretty magnificent highs. And the rest of the time it just “is.” I run through the motions. I take care of my daughter. I workout and hang out with friends. We laugh. I cry. Some days, the moments range from feeling quite “normal” to catastrophic to incredible. All within hours of each other.

For example, yesterday was such a day. The morning was great. The afternoon was filled with sadness and I felt like a zombie, simply going through the motions. Then the evening was one of my favorites I’ve had in the last 90 days. That’s a lot of emotion to process in just one 24 hour period!

But that’s also the way it has been, day after day, one after another, strung together now for 90 days. There’s just so much emotion to process in each 24 hour period. And it’s been exhausting! I’m seeing hope on the horizon, though, that the sea is about to calm significantly, going into these next 90 days. I feel something shifting within and I’m curious as to where it’s going to take me.

I’ve learned a lot, I think, in the last 90 days. Mostly, about people. People are inherently good. I’m no longer afraid to talk to a stranger or go to Target after dark or sit by myself at a restaurant or bar. Literally, guys, these were things I didn’t do because the fear was so all consuming. I catastrophized and feared so much that it stifled my life. Now, so many of those fears and hesitations no longer exist. I’m becoming far more confident in who I am and in going after what I want.

Unapologetically.

I’ve spoken with more random strangers in the last couple of months than I probably have in the last 10 years total. And the freedom to just connect with other humans is so beautiful! It has opened up my world. I’ve experienced things that I normally wouldn’t have ever even tried before. I’m being introduced to new music, food, drinks, places…all because I have stepped out of my comfort zone (okay, I was thrown from it) and I’m creating a new comfort zone. I am free to reinvent myself and to explore life in a way I never have before.

It’s energizing. And exciting. And liberating.

On this journey of reinventing myself, I’ve had to do an insane amount of self-reflection. And over the last 90 days, I have reached some hard truths. I realized, finally, that I lost myself for a while. I threw myself into being not only a mom, but the best mom there could possibly ever be. I also was incredibly sick for years and, man, living with a chronic illness really changes you. And then, all of a sudden, I was this person who was not me. She just wasn’t Katrina. But nobody could’ve told me that. I would never have believed it.

I know that I was a big problem of why my marriage sucked. It takes two, for sure, but in talking with someone tonight, it hit me that I probably started the negative cycle we were stuck in by not reaching out and getting help after my daughter was born. I blamed myself for her traumatic birth and lived with that for way too long. I put my husband on the back burner because he was not a helpless little child that almost died because of his mother’s stubbornness. He was a grown adult who didn’t need me.

But he did. And it surely wasn’t fair for me to treat him like an afterthought. Not only did I just not know any better, it wasn’t a conscious decision. I didn’t even know that’s what I was doing. So he struggled, of course, with being an afterthought, and that also changed our dynamic. He wasn’t understanding or compassionate towards me. I viewed him as selfish – didn’t he understand why I couldn’t be anything more than a mom to this helpless little girl? But of course he didn’t understand. It is very difficult to understand irrational behavior and my behavior was exactly that. Like I said, I needed help. In those moments, though, I didn’t think I did. Hindsight is always perfect, isn’t it?

So here we are. 90 days later. The actions of our pasts are permanent and irreversible. We can be sorry for our parts we played and also understand that somethings are just too great to come back from. My ex’s cheating and lying for so long – that betrayal – is far too great to come back from. It changed me to my core and has made me question everything I thought I knew or believed.

It also put me on a path towards a new sense of freedom and discovery. There are no expectations, limitations, boundaries, and, most importantly, no fear. It’s incredible how much fear and worry I had. How it snowballed, too, and magnified my fear. And it’s even more astounding that it’s *mostly* been erased. I think it’s because everything I avoided out of fear was to keep me from being hurt (physically or emotionally).

I’ve now been so deeply hurt that I literally can’t put it into words.

The pain is truly indescribable. There isn’t much that could make me feel lower than I have in certain moments over the last 90 days. So my attitude and approach towards life is now just so free of concern. Because nothing (pretty much) will ever hurt this bad so why not take the risk and go for it? If I end up getting hurt, it still won’t be this bad, so it doesn’t even matter. To know that I am rising above this pain means that I am capable of rising above whatever adversity is thrown in my direction.

Well, except when we’re talking about that “r” word. That’s something where I am making a conscious decision to avoid at all costs. I’m surely not ready to consider being in a relationship. I may never want to go down that road, to be that vulnerable again. That’s pretty much the only thing that could make me feel this low, so out of self-preservation, there isn’t much need to be in a relationship. Ever. Well, that’s how I feel today. That level of connection is just not anything that needs to exist in my world. And I don’t want it to.

But I digress… Back to rising above! I think part of the shift I’m feeling today is that I’m focusing more on the positive life changes that my ex’s actions are bringing me. I’ve never felt more confident. I’ve never realized the strength I have within. On those extremely difficult days, I still survive. As exhausting as it is, I take a breath…and then another. I’ve survived through incredible pain that stems from a betrayal so deep that it’ll be a long time before I process all of those layers.

For 90 days now.

I’ve done a ridiculous amount of self-reflection. I mean, really looking at myself. And I have no regrets about who I am becoming. I’ve learned that I can be exactly who I want to be and that this moment, right now, is the only thing that is real. I’ve learned to live in moments, not days, weeks, months, or years. I’ve learned to let go of expectations and just be. I’m open to try things I never would’ve before. I’ve learned that living out loud is the most freeing and wonderful way to live.

Life is difficult. For all of us. Every single one of us has something we’re going through. If anything, I hope to inspire you all to live out loud. Unapologetically be who you want to be, even if it differs greatly from societal pressures. This is your life and you are free to pursue your happiness as you see fit. And you definitely do not have to live according to tradition or society’s rules. That is far too stifling and you end up losing yourself. Live in the moments of life and actively seek out those moments that make you smile as often as you can. Don’t worry about what tomorrow could bring – just be. Right now is the only reality that matters. It’s the only thing that exists.

At least, that’s what I am doing. And because of the freedom to live out loud, unafraid and uninhibited, I have had wonderfully fun experiences and have met more interesting people that I never would’ve even made eye contact with before. By living life this way, by being on this path (thanks to my ex’s betrayal), I feel more alive than I have in a long time. And I’m now incredibly aware of how much I missed out on due to the grip of fear controlling me. My ex has done me a favor, honestly, by causing me to hurt so deeply.

I am no longer afraid. Truly, there is no better gift I could’ve ever been given. Who would’ve thought that I would’ve looked at his infidelity as a way of shaking me awake so I can live the life I want to live? 90 days ago I don’t think I would’ve called this betrayal a gift. Now, though, I feel as though it has empowered me. It has granted me permission to live an uninhibited life. It truly feels limitless.

So in this moment, I am now looking forward to the next 90 days. Who knows who I’ll be by then? What I do know is, whoever I am, I’ll be happy.

life

The Phoenix Begins to Rise from her Ashes

A Graceful Catastrophe

I’ve been struggling a lot today. Well, for the last 2 weeks, really, but today especially. The weather is crap and that surely isn’t helping. My gym is closed on Sundays, so I didn’t get to workout, though I think I may go for a run when I’m done writing. Or go have a drink. A run is healthier but a drink sure is yummier! (*Update: I opted for a nap. It was quite lovely.*)

It all just feels so empty. And I feel so sad because of how afraid I am to connect – like, really connect – with someone ever again. The idea of a future like that, while super safe, just feels so lonely. And it’s just that I don’t know how I’d ever trust anyone again. I don’t want to let anyone in; I don’t see how it’s worth it to let my guard down and be vulnerable. But maybe that’s the only way to combat the emptiness…

So, are those my options? Have superficial fun, never get hurt, and feel a bit empty inside? Or let someone in and put myself at risk to feel extreme trauma and pain? Because to me, now, love is synonymous with pain. The two go hand in hand.

They always have. So why wouldn’t it always be that way?

Guys, I can’t ever feel like this again. This anguish and turmoil, this colossal, life and soul altering catastrophe that’s changed everything I once knew…this has to be a once in a lifetime thing, right? But there’s no guarantee to that. This could absolutely happen again. People cheat and lie. They betray. They are selfish and awful. They convince themselves that their awful behavior is justified in some way. And I’m not just talking about my ex. There is a ton of evidence that this is exactly what people do. It’s naive to believe otherwise.

But, one thing at a time, I suppose. There’s not a whole lot that matters past how I’m feeling today, right now. And, again, today sucks. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I just want it all to stop. Without really realizing it, I’ve buried my pain, for the most part, for the last 84 days. I ignored it and focused on being angry. But it’s getting harder to ignore. And it’s been far more noticeable at home.

My ex ended up getting the house and we told our daughter yesterday that she’d be living in two homes. Her response? “Eh, I knew this was coming.” That was it. She didn’t even care. She literally said, “Eh.” I mean, come on!

And I think I know why. It’s been so toxic in her home for the last 2 weeks that I think this was a welcome relief for her. I hope that it will be a welcome relief for me, too. Though I also think it’s going to force me to face my reality that I’ve been trying so hard to escape. And that scares me. I don’t know that I have the capacity to fully grasp the level of hurt that is in me. The few times that I have allowed this pain to surface – or, more accurately, that I haven’t had the emotional energy to keep it stifled – has been truly debilitating. It’s paralyzing. It makes me want to stay in bed and just shut my eyes to the world. I become this, ugh, I don’t even know how to describe it…but it just feels empty.

I feel empty.

In this moment, it feels as though I’m never going to be able to get past this betrayal. Every time I look at my ex, I see someone who massacred who I was. Right now, in this moment, I feel like his actions have forever changed me and in some ways, that’s a phenomenal thing and in others, it’s just a pretty terrible thing. I know that eventually I will be able to move past what he’s done to me. Time heals all wounds, doesn’t it? I also know that I can’t move past this until I can make sense of it all. And none of this makes sense. This level of pain that I have living in my heart just doesn’t make sense.

So, to be perfectly honest with you, now that I am going to have a significant amount of quiet time, I’m pretty nervous about it. I’m going to be forced to confront exactly what I’ve been trying to bury. I’m going to finally have to process this trauma. And I don’t know that I have the strength within to do so. It just feels like way, way too much. It’s layered and intertwined and invaded my soul. The shattered pieces are far too small to collect, much less put together.

But, as I write these words, I feel a spark within. If I can’t reuse the old pieces to reshape my life, why not mold new ones? I have an opportunity to reinvent bits of myself. I can use this catastrophe to catapult me into a new and wonderful space. One that only existed in my dreams. I can chase down those dreams, unafraid now, because if I fail in my pursuit, it’ll still never feel even close to how I feel today. Tomorrow’s pain from life’s stumbles surely won’t compare to the utter destruction in my soul I have today.

So, perhaps my mindset needs to be that I now know the true “depths of despair” (thank you, dear Anne Shirley) and I can only go up from here.

Huh. I love writing. I literally am crying right now because I genuinely feel hope. I actually can tackle whatever life throws at me. Barring something horrible happening to my daughter (God forbid…), no failure in life would be worse to come back from than my current situation. If I can process this and figure out how to let my pain go, then I honestly feel like I could conquer anything.

I feel like something incredible just happened. I can see the phoenix beginning to rise from her ashes.

Perhaps I will be okay, after all.

It’s all about perspective, right? Today sucks. No doubt about it. And very little could make tomorrow suck worse than today.

So, time to stop wallowing in the suck. I can honor that this sucks. Of course it does. I can give myself grace to feel this pain – no, agony, really.

But I will not give myself permission to let this jade me. I’m making that decision right now. I refuse to let the bitter taste of this betrayal linger on my tongue for much longer.

I may not know what tomorrow holds, but perhaps one day I will believe in fairy tales again.

life, love

Square Pegs Just Don’t Fit in Round Holes

A Graceful Catastrophe

This whole chapter of my life is so stupid and I can’t wait for it to end. It’s filled with ups and downs and it’s incredibly draining. I cried during Aladdin today, for Pete’s sake. My daughter, saying nothing, simply wrapped her arms around me and rested her head on my shoulder until my tears stopped. She’s so used to seeing her mama cry that she knows exactly what to do and that just sucks. I just want to press fast forward on my life…

But I can’t. I know I have to learn from this. So, I have a strong desire to try to process this logically because my emotions are all over the place and just make no sense. I look up the stages of grief almost every day. Just so I can see where I am in the process. Honestly, it varies tremendously from one moment to the next. There are days where I hit all 6 stages. Seriously. In the same day. It is exhausting!

I am exhausted.

With every bit of my being, I just want to move forward. My ex is currently trying to buy a house so he can move out. When he’s here, the roller coaster is so filled with twists and turns that I can just about barely hang on. I try to hide inside of myself, shut down completely, so I can whether the storm of his presence with as little trauma as possible. It doesn’t usually work. Which is why he needs to get out of my space and into his own.

So, until then, I fake it until I make it – or I just go work out as much as I can. *shrug* Working out makes me feel different types of exhaustion and pain, ones that makes sense. And my community there is incredible. The gym is, quite honestly, my happy place.

Outside of my gym, my community is also so strong, priceless, really. Some of them, however, I have been actively avoiding. Those in my community that also know my ex are harder for me to be around. With them, somehow, both the pain and the confusion increases. And I have to face my reality. Which I really do not want to do.

Right now, all I want to do is escape. And you can’t escape around people who knew your previous life. Or perhaps you can, but it is so much more difficult for me. So, my dear friends, I love you, I want you in my life, and sometimes it’s just too difficult and bizarre to be around you.

God, an escape would be so welcome right now. There’s a music festival in Germany at the end of July that I’d love to run away to. There’s this company called Active Escapes that creates vacations where you also have intense workouts and I’m pretty sure that would be my dream vacation. There’s a vacation through that company to Greece on July 5th. I’m pretty sure I’d give my left kidney to attend (kidding…kidding…not really…). I wish I could just go away until this chapter has ended. I want to flip the page.

I am so ready to flip the page!

And perhaps I am close. I feel like I might be able to flip the page after he moves out. I have no idea what is written on the next page. I have no clue if I am forever changed and jaded or if, once this pain is further in the distance, I’ll care again. I wonder if I’ll ever believe in love again. I’d like to turn the page so I can start figuring out who I am now.

Because I’m most definitely lost. I know that I am. And I also think it’s okay to be a bit lost. My world violently erupted and in an instant, his actions – the magnitude of his betrayal, unraveled me. It was catastrophic. I need to find out what I believe in. I want to discover where my energy is taking me and who it’s attracting – or pushing away.

The more I go through this process, the more interesting I find our energy and the universe and how it all works together. I am finding that anything that is supposed to be on our paths will be easily attained. I mean, perhaps you still have to work hard, but it just flows naturally. There is no “square peg, round hole” feeling.

My marriage felt like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. Trying to buy a car a couple weeks ago felt like I was jumping through all the hoops to make it work. Until I let it go. Then, a couple days ago, I had an extra hour so I went to buy a used car, on a whim. It was just easy. Everything came together effortlessly. I’m learning that if it requires *too much* effort, then I just need to let it go. It isn’t meant to be on my path.

Life should be easy. In ways, so much of my life has been easy. And in other ways, I’ve been challenged in ways that should’ve broken me. And perhaps they did. I think I have been shattered a time or two. And I also think, ultimately, I’ve come out stronger in the end. I know I’ve been shattered this time. I hope, once this is a part of my past, that I will come out even stronger, once again.

I was watching a movie with my daughter the other day. In it, one of the characters had been hardened against love to protect herself from the pain. It was pointed out to her that that was a weakness. It wasn’t her being strong, and fierce, as she’d thought. I cried… In my defense, that scene just hit a bit too close to home.

I’m hardened against love. I have no desire to be loved, romantically speaking. Not because I don’t want to be loved – of course I wish to be loved! – but because in order to be loved, or to give love, you have to let your walls down. Become unguarded. I’d have to bulldoze my castle and all its protective measures that I solidly have in place. And when you allow yourself to be that unprotected, you’re too close to feeling incredible pain. It’s a very fine line. As history has proven, time and again in my world, romantic love assuredly leads to pain. I honestly thought that guarding myself was a sign of me being strong. I am protecting my heart, after all. But this movie reminded me that vulnerability is a sign of strength. *sigh*

I’m not ready to be vulnerable again. Not yet. But it still makes me sad. I’m so devastated that this is the life I’d prefer. But for now, it genuinely is. Nothing about being in love or being loved is appealing. I can’t see myself in a relationship. I see myself strong, independent, and single. Until I’m a little old lady. This is the new future I see for myself. So I’m grieving that, too. I’m grieving the lost part of my soul, the one I’ve buried in order to protect myself from the immense pain that loving someone could bring. That loving someone does bring.

Every single time I’ve loved someone, it’s ended in pain. Since my first love as a child all the way to now. How is that worth it? Honestly, it’s not. So, as strong as I want to be, perhaps I am just this pitiful little soul who now refuses to be vulnerable. Nah, that isn’t true either. I know I’m strong. It’s just that I don’t need that kind of love in my life – the one that inevitably ends in pain.

Give me fun escapes. Give me all the friends in the world. Give me familial and friendship love. All of those are wonderful and long lasting. And my track history shows that.

The proof is in the pudding, as they say. Romantic love, in my world, is fleeting and ends in a flame of fury. Every. Single. Time. To hell with it. And to hell with the vulnerability it takes to allow romantic love to occur. I’m obviously not strong enough to let my guard down.

And honestly guys, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. Yes, it makes me sad, but sadness doesn’t make it wrong. I can travel with friends and have great, genuine fun with friends. With no expectations for anything. Do you know how freeing that is?? So if it takes strength to be vulnerable, I’m okay being weak there. I am strong in a thousand other ways.

So, I guess the overall message here is to just do and feel what you believe is right in the moment. No judgments that it’s not socially acceptable. No beating yourself up. No worrying that it’s not where you thought your path would take you. If it goes smoothly, then that means it is the right decision. You’re meant to do exactly whatever it is that you’re doing. If it causes stress in your life, if you feel like you’re putting in way too much effort to make it work, then let it go. If it’s right for me, I’m learning that it aligns beautifully and with ease.

And I’m going to start listening to that more. I’m going to be consciously aware of the amount of effort it takes for something to exist in my world. A little effort is okay. It’s probably even good. After all, challenges help us to grow. And the universe surely understands how much growth my soul requires.

Difficulties are acceptable. Some pegs may take a bit more effort, but they’re still the right size and shape. They still fit.

On the other hand, I don’t think I’m going to insist that a square peg could ever fit in a round hole again. Some things just aren’t meant to be and while it hurts to let it go, that is exactly what must happen in order to continue moving forward. Forward progress is always the goal. If I do get stuck in my life again, as we all do from time to time, wasting effort and time trying to make something fit that never will, I hope to remember this advice for myself.

If it’s on my path, the energy will flow so easily that it’s actually beautiful. Square pegs don’t fit in round holes. They just don’t and never will. I know that now.

life, love

In Spite of the Ache, I’ll Rise Up

A Graceful Catastrophe

This whole grief cycle is stupid. I’m so super completely over it. I’m finding that the ramifications of my ex cheating on me for almost a year has caused so many more layers of hurt than I initially even realized and they are all sandwiched in anger and disbelief and frustration and so, so much sadness.

What’s interesting is that the sadness, right now, isn’t coming from the marriage ending. I’m too logical to pretend that it didn’t completely suck for a long time.

What I am really struggling with is that I know my world view has been completely altered. I honestly, today, right now in this moment, believe that romantic love is an illusion. I believe that familial love is a thing and I think you can feel it with your friends. A deeper sort of affection and connection with family and those that feel like family. I think that’s ingrained in us at the cellular level.

Romantic love, though, has got to be a joke. In the last few days, I’ve heard about two more women whose husbands cheated on them with multiple women, one dear husband was also a fellow Ashley Madison user.

Everyone has a story. Woman after woman and man after man have come to me with stories of relationships ending due to infidelity.

Romantic love is like that faint smell of beautifully blossoming flowers that you catch for just a moment in the summer breeze – and then it disappears and you wonder if you’d imagined it. It’s there, so distinct, so strong…and so fleeting.

I don’t ever want to love like that again. And I don’t want to be loved like that again. It isn’t real. And if it is, it is fleeting. It is there one moment, so intense and beautiful, and then whisked away in the next. Only incredible destruction is left in its wake.

Why would anyone willingly subject themselves to that level of vulnerability?

That honestly just feels like such nonsense to me.

I know I’m still processing through this pain and I am fully aware that my thoughts vary depending on my emotions, depending on how I’m painting the world in that given moment.

In this moment, based on my own life experiences at age 38…and those of my parents, friends, and strangers…romantic love is a sham. It’s been proven to me over and over and over again. It’s a sad, horrible joke. It’s short-lived…momentary.

And once it’s gone, terrible things can happen. Lives are forever altered. Perceptions of the world that is being lived in have to be re-created. The world is no longer the same.

My world is no longer the same.

I am no longer the same.

I can’t decide yet if that’s good or bad or if it just is. I’m leaning towards it just is. It is my reality.

I don’t think I’ll ever again look at anything the same as I once did. Everything is different. Well, the way I view it is different. I suppose it’s the same world. I am just wearing different lenses now.

Surprisingly, I do have hope that this new world I live in will be beautiful for me. It does make me sad that I am no longer the romantic soul I’ve always been. It makes me sad that I genuinely have zero desire to be loved in a romantic way ever again. I’m mourning the fact that I no longer believe in the fairy tales and romance stories that have always grabbed at my heart. It’s all just fiction.

But what is real are people and moments and delightful moments with those wonderful people. It doesn’t need to be any deeper than that and to think that it does is a societal joke. I no longer care about the future, I put absolutely zero stock in it. It doesn’t exist and it never will. What exists is now. And I laugh plenty now. So many of you make me feel so special now. I am deeply loved by you. And I know it. Because I feel it.

I have a playlist on Spotify that started when two of my close girlfriends decided I needed music to go with this chapter of my life. I have since added to it and I’m really liking how it is taking shape. Music is so powerful and these songs are doing a phenomenal job at summarizing my current state – and helping me make sense of it all.

These are lyrics from one of the songs my girlfriend recommended. The song is called Rise Up and it’s sung by Andra Day. I actually frequently cry when I hear it because it hits me right to my core.

You're broken down and tired
Of living life on a merry go round
And you can't find the fighter
But I see it in you so we gonna walk it out
And move mountains
We gonna walk it out
And move mountains

And I'll rise up
I'll rise like the day
I'll rise up
I'll rise unafraid
I'll rise up
And I'll do it a thousand times again
And I'll rise up
High like the waves
I'll rise up
In spite of the ache
I'll rise up
And I'll do it a thousands times again

The next line is “For you.” But I’ll rise up a thousand times again – for me. For my daughter. I’ll rise up every time I fall. Every time I feel broken. Every time I feel hopeless.

I’ll rise up. I’ll walk it out. A thousand times again. Though, the “unafraid” bit is a struggle. I think that is there for the long haul. I’m far too afraid to be hurt and betrayed like this again. I won’t allow myself to be vulnerable. This castle is secure.

Which makes me think of another song on my playlist: Because of You by Kelly Clarkson.

Because of you
I never stray too far from the sidewalk
Because of you
I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt
Because of you
I try my hardest just to forget everything
Because of you
I don't know how to let anyone else in
Because of you
I'm ashamed of my life
Because it's empty
Because of you
I am afraid

I know this song was written for a completely different situation, yet it fits – for the most part. Because of my ex’s actions, I’m now extremely guarded. And I just want to forget everything. But I’m absolutely not ashamed of my life. It isn’t empty. And the way I now am choosing to live it isn’t wrong. Though there is a void where romantic love used to exist and that void will remain. I no longer know how to let in anyone in that capacity. And even if I could remember, I’m much too afraid.

Despite that, most days, I am happy. Genuinely. I am fulfilled. My community lifts me up – you all help me walk it out. You, all of you in your variety of roles you play in my life, you fill my life with joyous moments. You make me feel loved and special and like I can make it through another day. You fill my life with meaning.

This journey feels as though it will be a never-ending roller coaster ride. A constant struggle. But I am not one who stays down when she has fallen – I am far too stubborn for that. And so, “I’ll rise up. In spite of the ache. I’ll rise up. And I’ll do it a thousand times again.”

life

Nobody Should Ride a Roller Coaster Alone

A Graceful Catastrophe

I’ve dreamed of being an author since I was in the 4th grade. My closest friends have encouraged me, for as long as I can remember, to carve out time during the day to write. One of my bestest friends of all time gave me two journals, one pocket-sized, so that I can never have an excuse that I’ve lost a potential book idea. I carry the pocket-sized one with me at all times and I write down book ideas and inspirations that I get randomly throughout the day.

I have so many ideas for books. And they are all written in those journals. Perhaps one day I’ll actually write one of those books.

But for now, I have a monster book brewing in my head. It’s a memoir/guidebook of sorts. I’ve lived through my fair share of trauma, this latest catastrophe being the most destructive. Yet, I’m still smiling – well, most of the time. I have a lot of stories to share, a lot of lessons learned and even more that are yet to be learned. And you all seem to connect with what I write.

It makes me wonder what could happen at a much larger scale.

So, this blog that I am currently writing is dedicated to one of the potential chapters of my future book. Please tell me how you like it.

Chapter Something

Processing life after a catastrophic trauma is so much like riding a roller coaster. You feel clammy all the time, with moments where you want to cry to moments where the tears are from laughter. You’re so nauseated. All. Of. The. Time. You don’t dare eat because you just know you’ll throw up after coming down from that first big hill. And if you’ve ever ridden a roller coaster, you know all of those sensations, all of those feelings, are valid. They’re normal.

The same is true when processing great catastrophic life events.

When I was younger, a trauma occurred and I felt so isolated, so scared, so confused. I didn’t understand what I felt or why I was feeling it. And I was ever so ashamed. Even though it’s 20 years later, and I’m going through a significantly different situation, though of catastrophic proportions once again, it is just as confusing and scary, and also again, I feel shame. Though this time around, I’m not isolated. I have chosen to share my story. To live out loud. To talk about all of my feelings with anyone who will listen. I will not be silenced. And I will not be bullied or threatened into keeping my story to myself.

I am screaming my story to anyone who will listen.

And, damn, is that ever so helpful!

It’s helpful because it reminds me that I’m not alone. So many other people have experienced my same pain. They’ve told me that I could be writing the words that are engraved on their hearts.

The last thing you want, after experiencing sudden devastation, is to feel like nobody would understand what you’re going through, to think that you are living this chaos alone. Yet, so many people do. They suffer in silence. They don’t want to be a burden on others.

Guys, I have burdened so many of you! And because of that, I have been held up, physically and emotionally. You have been my lighthouses, shining your bright lights into the darkest places of my mind, never relenting until it penetrates my soul. And none of you have made me feel like a burden.

It’s human nature to want to help others! We desperately want to comfort other people – even strangers. Though we especially want to be there for those closest to us. And when I lay my troubles into their hands, it helps. I feel lighter. They empower me, help me feel embraced, loved, and supported. They help me acknowledge that while I currently have shit in between my toes from it hitting the fan and going everywhere so then I of course can’t help but step in it, it won’t always be there. Not only do they remind me that it won’t always be there, they actually get their hands dirty and help wipe it away.

The community you allow into your life wants to be there. They want to lift you up. They want to see you succeed and grow and flourish. They want to shower you with love and support.

So let them in. And burden your community with your troubles. You will find yourself in a much better place to cope with the turmoil in your heart and you’ll probably even find that certain relationships within your community strengthen. Friendships deepen to levels you didn’t really think would be possible in such a short amount of time.

So dare to live your story out loud. Find the strength to speak your truth. Start with one person, and then let the flood gates open. You’ll be so surprised by not only the sympathy, but also by the empathy. People will feel badly for you, feel angry with you, cry with you, get drunk with you, and laugh with you.

Others will connect with your soul. They’ll understand you before you even understand yourself. Because they’ve walked a thousand miles in your shoes already. They’ve worn them in for you, making your navigation through the storm perhaps just a wee tiny, little bit easier.

Not everyone will agree with you reaching out to anyone who will listen. And that is okay. This isn’t their path to travel, nor is it their wave to ride. As long as you find peace in sharing your story with others, keep right on narrating your life. Your community will make it known who wants to listen, who feels comfortable being your lighthouse. So follow their beacon and expose your heart. The more raw and exposed I have lived in these last 2 months, the less alone I have felt.

And I just can’t say it enough. You do not want to feel alone while weathering your storm. Many in your community will definitely be able to sympathize. And at least one person will be able to empathize. They will wrap their arms tightly around you, flooding your whole body with a warm embrace that is electrified with their unconditional love and support, and they’ll shower you with forehead kisses. Your community is waiting, at the ready, to do whatever it takes to convince you that you are not alone.

Find them and lay your sadness, your fears, your anger and your anguish into their awaiting hands. If you bend too far, and end up broken, hand them all of your broken pieces. And do so without shame or worry of being a burden. Because they are waiting there, judgement free, with duct tape to slowly help piece you back together.

Your community loves you. Unconditionally. Lean on them and let that love fill you until you feel strong enough to survive another moment.

And before you know it, you are no longer merely surviving. Thanks to them, suddenly one day you are thriving.

As I write this, the lyrics to the song, “Lean On Me,” popped into my head. Specifically, these:

Please swallow your pride
If I have things you need to borrow
For no one can fill those of your needs
That you won’t let show”

Lean On me
bill withers

That Mr. Withers sure knew what he was talking about! Be unashamed of your roller coaster. Swallow your pride and lean on your community because your feelings are valid and shouldn’t be felt in isolation.

Nobody should ride a roller coaster alone.

love

Fairy Tales are Simply Nonsense

A Graceful Catastrophe

I used to be such a romantic. I’d cry at love songs and sappy romcoms. I used to love it when a boy made me a mixed tape, listing all the songs that made him think of me.

I used to believe in fairy tales. And I honestly thought they could happen in real life.

Now, some days I feel like a zombie, operating in full-on survival mode, functioning with a smile on my face that is only surface deep. Faking it ’till I make it, not daring to show those around me the insurmountable pain I feel, for fear of it consuming me if I acknowledge it exists.

Other days, I legitimately feel like a freaking rock star. Like I have everything under control. And on those days, in those moments, my smile stretches widely across my face and travels deep into my soul.

I’m living in two worlds, with a foot planted firmly in each.

I’ve thought a lot about why I have my zombie days. I mean, it’s not like my marriage was great before he cheated. It sucked. And it had sucked for years. I had told those closest to me that it felt like I was trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. It was never going to happen; it wasn’t ever supposed to fit.

So, why am I so affected by this? I’m free from a lousy marriage! The things that annoyed me about my ex are no longer anything I have to put up with anymore! I can stay in Colorado, for Pete’s sake!! (For those that do not know, the plan was for us to retire in FL. I do not like FL and was absolutely not looking forward to having to move from my Utopian CO to live there. Bleh.)

I think the thing that really gets to me is how it all went down. I don’t quit. Especially something like a family. I would never abandon my family like he did. When I was chatting with a good friend about the possibility of divorce, my friend asked me if I’d done everything in my power to save the marriage. Could I walk away with a clear conscience that every avenue was pursued, a good fight was fought, but just lost.

And I couldn’t. I couldn’t say that I’d put forth any effort into saving the marriage, to be quite honest. So, in that moment, I decided to try. Like, really try. I wrote a 3 page letter, front and back, and cried as I read it to him. I owned all my faults. I made myself so vulnerable. I thought, if I laid it all out on the table, if I admitted to all the moments I was an awful wife, we could grow together from there.

I read him the letter this last fall. He’d been cheating on my since the previous spring. I was too late – he was already gone.

I made myself so embarrassingly vulnerable to him, and I genuinely thought he had heard me. How preciously naive I was. And then 6 months later I found out he’d been cheating on me for a ridiculously long time. What a fool! I was lied to for almost a year and I ignored my gut when I had a feeling something was off. The levels of betrayal run so deep.

I was humiliated.

That’s where my anger is coming from, I think. That’s why I hurt straight down to my core.

I put everything out there. Left my heart unprotected, let my guard completely down. So that I could try to save my family and if I failed, I could at least say I did everything I could to keep us together.

But he can’t say that. Rather than expose his soul to me so we could grow together, he withdrew emotionally and fell into the arms of woman after woman. For months and months. Then came home and complained about what an awful wife I was.

Oh, I can feel the rage building right now.

And this makes me so mad because if I can be played for a fool so easily by the one person that I thought I knew so well, how on earth could I ever trust anyone to not do the exact same thing?

I’m jaded. And I hate it. I don’t want to feel this way. I mean, I don’t think I even believe in monogamy anymore! Everyone I know has a story. EVERYONE. I’ll never allow someone to make me feel this way again. Which means, I have to remain guarded. I can’t be vulnerable. It’s inevitable that I’ll just get hurt.

So why bother?

I know, I know. Two months. It’s been 70 days. I get it. I know what you’re going to say. The road to healing has only just begun to be traveled. I get I’m still in the early stages. And it’s impossible to really make any progress with him still living in the basement, still here to lose his ever loving mind around me whenever I do or say something that upsets him.

He’s not the easiest person to deal with. And now that I am so emotionally closed off, neither am I. Vulnerability, especially around him, is obviously not safe. I have to guard my emotions, guard my heart. I’ve already been a fool for the last year. I won’t allow that anymore.

But that means I come across as cold. Unfeeling. Uncaring.

Well, duh. *face palm*

I have to protect myself now from the person he’s shown himself to be. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

There won’t be a second time.

So when I want to escape, when I want to run away, I think it’s coming from a place of shame more than hurt. Shame that I didn’t know. Shame that I opened up, accepted blame, and put my heart tenderly in his hands – only for him to spit on it before throwing it away, tossing it haphazardly over his shoulder.

The hard truth? Our marriage, in my opinion, was inevitably going to end. He’d asked for a divorce about 9 or 10 months before he cheated. I told him no, I wasn’t going to quit the family. I didn’t believe in just giving up. I didn’t believe in abandoning the family (because that’s what I equated it to) just because we didn’t want to get our hands dirty and try to make the marriage better. I told him that we needed to work on our marriage, that I believed we could have a happy life together. So I denied him the divorce.

And then neither one of us chose to work. Neither of us tried. We both waited for the other one to change. It took me well over a year to finally get to a place where I was all in. But it took him 9 or so months to decide to throw us away and sign up for Ashley Madison.

I was too late.

I loved him. He can be such an amazing human. I married him for a reason.

And now I don’t know him. I don’t trust him. I have no clue where his morals lie.

So on the hardest of days, I completely shut down. I go out with my girls, probably drink a little too much, and try so hard to erase the shame of being such a fool, for being so hopeful and vulnerable, for being so extremely naive.

Because I had no clue, when I exposed my heart to him, that he was looking at me with eyes that had looked deep into another woman’s. That when he hugged me, he was hugging me with the same arms that had been wrapped around another woman’s body. Many other women’s bodies. And this had been going on for months and months.

How could I have missed it???

I’ll never miss it again.

Because vulnerability is too risky.

There is no fairy tale. No Cinderella story. Perhaps there’s no such thing even as true love.

I’m sure the days of operating like a zombie will pass. I’ll find a new normal and thrive there. I’ll have fun and make connections with others, but it’ll be a long time, perhaps never, before I place my heart in someone else’s hands.

I just don’t trust that they wouldn’t eventually spit on it, too.

I’ll never allow myself to walk into another relationship with eyes naively closed, blinded by love. Another person will never throw me away again.

My days of being a blindly trusting, naive little fool are over.

Walls up. Guards up. My castle is well protected. And will remain that way indefinitely.

Because those precious fairy tales I grew up watching? The ones my daughter watches and then, at the happily ever after, smiles through her tears and gives a little sigh?

They don’t exist.

It’s not better to have loved and lost. It’s better to not love at all so you can never be betrayed or hurt.

Because fairy tales, quite simply, are all just a bunch of nonsense.