Tag: betrayal

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

21 Years

A Graceful Catastrophe

It feels like a lifetime ago, and I suppose in many ways, it was. It feels like it was so long ago that it simply shouldn’t matter anymore.

Yet, it does.

After 21 years of life, a person undergoes an incredibly substantial transformation. A person goes from the rather incomprehensible and mind boggling transition from tiny bundle emerging from the womb to adult human, capable of making such important decisions as, which shot am I going to take as my birthday shot.

21 years is a lifetime.

Last night, in the wee hours of the morning, marked 21 years since an event occurred that fundamentally changed who I was. I thought I was “me” again. I thought that I had mostly healed and returned to the woman I knew I once was, when the light came back on – both literally and figuratively, about 11 years ago.

That is, until last night.

Last night was the first August 1st that I have spent alone since that night in 1998. When that hit me, it kind of shattered me all over again. Last year, the 20th “anniversary,” was difficult in its own way because, while my husband at the time was indeed laying by my side, I felt lonely. I wrote my first blog that night and it felt really good; I felt exceptionally strong, though undeniably lonely, despite his warmth next to me.

This year, I, thankfully, did not feel lonely, as I was texting with a friend that lives out of state. Our conversation brought many smiles to my face and I am so grateful I had that. He has no clue of the gift that his presence and insightful conversation provided me.

But I was still alone.

For the first time, in 21 years, I spent that night all by myself.

I don’t know why that fact affects me so – but it does. I suppose, perhaps, it’s because I didn’t have the option of a shoulder to lean on, someone to hold me, and remind me that I am safe, if I wanted one. And I did want one.

But that’s my job and mine alone now. I remind myself that I am strong. It’s up to me to wrap my arms around myself and tell myself how resilient and fierce I am. I just have to believe it.

Sure, I have friends that do the same, but on a night like last night, I just would’ve appreciated something a bit more. And I no longer have that, because I no longer have my husband. Truth be told, I didn’t have him last year either, but at least then I wasn’t alone.

So if wrapping my own self in love and self-care is now my reality, then I shall embrace it.

I just don’t want to today.

Dealing with the reminder of the date, the event that occurred, compounded with my current reality, makes today one where I’d rather just crawl under a rock.

Luckily, it has been a busy day, and I’ve smiled and done my best to put on my game face while I worked. But make absolutely no mistake about it, my heart has been heavy all day and tears were shed in between clients.

Hell, tears are falling now.

The swirling of pain just seems to get worse. And then, I guess there are moments that are better. It’s an ebb and flow, I get it. Today, though, everything is mashing together in a way that has taken me completely by surprise.

Everything about August 1st has always been heavy. Its weight is barely endurable this year. And the absence of someone to lean on, for someone to hold me and give me the love and respect that I didn’t receive that night, makes today suck a whole lot more than it has in a long time.

I have nothing uplifting today. No words of inspiration to end with. Just the somber reflections of a burdensome past coupled with a really shitty current reality and writing it all down gets it out of my head, at least.

So, thank you for reading. And maybe even for embracing me from afar. And I have to tell you, I am so grateful that August 1st only comes but once a year.

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

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*

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

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, 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.