Tag: compassion

life

365 Days

A Graceful Catastrophe

It’s supposed to be a lucky day. St. Patrick’s Day. The luck of the Irish, right? Well, perhaps, in hindsight, today continues to be lucky…despite last year’s events and this year’s pandemic shutting everything down. When viewed properly, March 17th is indeed a lucky day. It’s all about perspective…

There are distinct moments in our lives where we are shoved off our path with such great force that we’ve lost the old path completely and find ourselves battered and bruised in unknown territory. It hurts. It’s scary. And you’re absolutely lost.

But that exact moment, that figurative violent kick from the universe, was exactly what you needed to wake up and learn lessons you refused to learn the easy way. You weren’t entirely and intentionally doing anything to grow, so the beautiful universe then decided to intervene.

I flew off my path at 6:08 pm on March 17, 2019 and face planted elsewhere, landing in unknown and very painful territory. I spent the majority of the last 365 days rediscovering not only who I am, but deciding who I want to be.

This past week has been a lot harder than I anticipated. I love the path I’m currently walking. I love the people I am walking it with. I love myself. I love.

So why have these days been so hard?

It hit me on Sunday. The insecurities that overwhelm you when you’ve been cheated on are abundant. I…

Oof. I just had to walk away. This is surprisingly turning out to be one of the hardest blogs I’ve written. The feelings and thoughts filling my very being right now are so painful and I was not expecting this time to be so challenging. These emotions have caught me completely off guard.

It’s like, everything I’ve reflected on and had thought was nicely processed and behind me is right in front of my face again. It’s like I’m her again. The me I was a year ago. The one who was inadequate in all aspects of her life. Everything is rushing back to the surface and I feel buried in all that shit all over again.

Growth is work. Constant work. Constant positive self-talk, to drown out the voice that seems to always be there, ready to lie to you. And I’m trying so hard to shut that voice up. I thought I had. Ugh, it had been silent for months.

But today…today is hard. I feel inadequate.

At least today, I know that feeling is a lie.

Because I’m not only adequate. I far exceed that. I’m not just enough – I am more than enough. And today, well, today is weird. But, on most days, it doesn’t matter if others don’t see that. Because, quite simply, I do.

So that’s the key. I have to fill my head with positive self-talk. And surround myself with people who lift me up…who remind me that I am strong and amazing…who tell me they’re grateful I’m in their lives. There’s no doubt that my ex’s negative words became the voice in my head, filling my being with lies for years upon years. And there’s also no doubt that my community has gotten me to where I am today. They never hesitate to fill me with unconditional love and encourage me with their uplifting words.

My community has supported me for the full 365 days that have past, seemingly, in a flash. They never once judged me, ridiculed me, or left my side for even a second. They chose to lift me up when I fell and I had so many shoulders to cry on – which was necessary because there was a bit of a flood for a while. They never condemned me for how I chose to process the pain. They believed in me. Not only that, but they believed in love for me when I was sure it didn’t – couldn’t – exist. It is also because of my community that I was able to be vulnerable and dream of love again…because I felt their love so deeply that I knew it surely must exist in reality.

It isn’t easy to come out on the other side from a catastrophe. It takes careful diligence, intention, and far too many difficult moments of seeing who you are at your core. And it truly takes a village.

But it pays off.

So now I’m taking a moment to pause. As I close my eyes, I see myself standing in the middle of this beautiful, blossoming path, so fragrant with brand new, blooming life that I can no longer smell the shit that covered me just days, weeks, and months ago. And as I open my eyes and look around, I see my people who have willingly chosen to accompany me on this journey.

This new community is filled with not only my tried and true, been-there-for-every-step-of-all-my-journeys soulmates, but also people who have come into my life that I never fathomed could ever exist. These significant souls keep pushing me to grow, to dig deeper in order to discover the true roots of my pain, so that I can continue to properly heal my past wounds. And as I take this symbolic meandering down my new path, I can give myself a little pat on the back, pause to smile, and realize how far I’ve really come.

It was this past Tuesday, March 10, that I realized the date. And the week that followed has been a roller coaster. I was incredibly on edge and the people closest to me felt that chaotic energy and, thankfully, dealt with it with grace. I purposely pushed buttons over the weekend, as the emotions that were coming out by then were anger and insecurity. And then I started to write this past Sunday afternoon, when the anger had finally left and was replaced completely by intense self-doubt and vulnerability.

And I continued to write, well into Tuesday, March 17, but now in yet another significantly different place.

When I had to walk away, when I had a bit of a breakdown while writing…that began to heal me. When I wrote on Monday, I felt uplifted. I finally saw my baggage. I had been holding something so heavy all week but I didn’t know what it was. Just that it was an incredible burden. It was weighing me down and turning me into my former self – though I was fighting it hard.

But then, after a lengthy chat with a soul that truly gets me, I was able to stand in front of that figurative mirror, my dear old friend from the past year, that I hadn’t stood before in months. And I saw what that weight was. I saw the roots of those feelings of inadequacy.

And what I saw surprised me.

My ex did some work to bring me down and led me to believe I wasn’t enough. Years of it. Well into the wee hours of this morning, it hit me. I realized that what was really happening was that he was projecting onto me the pains from his own childhood, the feelings of never being enough for his own father. Growing up, no matter what he did, he couldn’t get his dad’s approval or attention. I can’t even imagine how inadequate that makes a young boy feel and how heavy that makes a little boy’s heart. The pain that my ex has lived with, of never feeling like he was enough…that’s heartbreaking. And he didn’t know how to process that pain, so he projected it onto me, causing his pain to be mine.

Ultimately, he cheated, I think, because I devalued him. Just like his dad had. I unknowingly and unintentionally triggered the memories of that same old pain from childhood because I wasn’t being nurtured how I needed to be. It was a vicious cycle. He didn’t give me what I needed, so I didn’t give him what he needed. I didn’t behave with understanding or compassion.

I see now, though, that I wasn’t getting what I needed from him, not because he didn’t want to give it to me, but because he was just too broken to do so. I took his pain personally and then internalized it all, because, frankly, I didn’t know any better. I didn’t understand because I had never really read the whole story. Looking at him today, I know now that he loved me, although that was something I’d questioned for the last 6 years of our marriage, causing more hurt and resentment. He just had no clue how to show it because he couldn’t overcome the hurt in his heart that’d been simmering there for decades.

Cheaters are victims, too. They cheat because they’re trying to cover their pain, ignoring it by finding solace, even for just a few moments, in somebody – anybody – who will give them the attention they’ve been seeking since childhood.

One year later, I understand. He never intended to intentionally hurt me. I was just the collateral damage to his trauma.

So I see it – and feel it – a bit more clearly now. I am not insignificant or inadequate. And I am not a victim.

I think I can finally move forward in grace, as I now have an understanding of what occurred like never before. Perspective is beautiful.

365 days later. What. A. Year!

Today, my heart swells with compassion for my ex. And I’m also thrilled to have been catapulted onto this path I am walking today, filled with these once-strangers who see me, push me, and help me to grow, and who I am now lucky enough to call my family.

As we navigate this new season all of us are entering, with our country, no, our global community, at a virtual standstill, I think it’s important that we embrace these hard-earned lessons. None of us fully understands another’s story because we’re all reading it through our own filters. If we take a moment to step outside of ourselves, to remove our personal filter, to change our perspectives, we can then begin to live with true compassion.

From the beginning I’ve wanted to live through this catastrophe with grace. I can see the bigger picture now. We all have our hurts. Therefore, it only makes sense that we all give grace, live with love in our hearts, assume best intent in others, and treat everyone with kindness and true tenderness. Life is hard. It’s going to be a touch harder now that everything is shut down and social distancing is a thing. As humans, we are naturally social beings. So, give love in whatever capacity you can. Be gracious. And if someone hurts you, try to approach the situation with mercy and understanding. Hurt people hurt people. Try not to add to their hurt.

I wish you all an open heart so you can feel the peace, love, and luck on this very odd St. Patrick’s Day.

life, love

Eating Crow

A Graceful Catastrophe

A few days ago, I was talking with a friend that has this ability to call me out, saying all the difficult things that I need to hear, yet doing so in such a way that makes me pause, rather than defend (for the most part). I definitely don’t want to hear these observations, or answer the questions that inevitably follow, but, the truth of the matter is, in order to really grow, I must listen. And, in the kindest of ways, he makes me question all the things I thought to be true about not only me, but also my past.

After some hardcore self-reflection, I realized I have been a pretty shitty person to my ex. And not just in the last 7 months since I found out about his infidelity, but for years.

I lacked intention.

I lacked compassion and grace.

I reacted to his poor behavior, validating my response because I was a victim. A victim of all the things I’ve written about in previous blogs.

But, you know what? Just because somebody shits on you doesn’t mean you shit on them back. That’s just not being a good human. There’s no validating poor behavior. No matter what.

For my own reasons, I chose to treat my ex poorly. I withdrew. Any affection I’d had for him diminished day by day. I started to only see him in a negative light. I focused on all of his faults. And when I spoke to those closest to me, I complained about him. Incessantly. All I saw were the awful things about him. That was all I chose to see. So, naturally, I convinced myself that my poor behavior towards him was understandable. It was excusable. My awful behavior was valid.

Sure, we all know by now that he did not treat me well. However, I allowed myself to play the role of victim – for years. And have continued to do so for the last 7 months.

Was I a victim? Yep. Did it mean that I had to define myself as that? Nope. But I did. Unconsciously, sure, but I did. Right up until Friday night. Until my friend smacked me with that info.

Oof. That didn’t sit well with me at first. I immediately tried to protest. “But I only behaved that way because he…” No, no, no! That’s not okay. It was time for me to own my actions.

So I bit my tongue. Literally. And I sat there in silence, continuing to listen to what he was saying. I processed this info longer than anything else we talked about that night.

I lived in a place of constant hurt. And anger. And I held onto those emotions tighter with every breath I took.

And when someone’s words and actions constantly hurt, there are some defense mechanisms that have to be put into place for survival.

Or so I thought.

So, that’s what I did. I began to shut down. To be perfectly honest with myself, and, I suppose, you, my ex eventually ceased to exist to me. Over time, he wasn’t someone I fought for or tried to engage with. I loved him, and at the same time, I didn’t really care about him. And I gave myself all the valid reasons for my actions.

  • “Because he hurts me.”
  • “Because he doesn’t care about my feelings. Or my job. Or my day. Or (insert reason here).
  • “Because he doesn’t respect me.”

And guess what? It showed. It showed that he was an inconsequential human in my life.

He felt it.

I’m not sure which happened first. Did I shut down first or did he? Who shit on whom first?

Honestly, it doesn’t matter. We both turned away from one another. And we both convinced ourselves that it was okay. Because of that ugly place of being hurt. Both of us just wanted to feel love from the other. And neither of us was receiving it.

We were stuck in a negative loop so deeply entrenched in anger and hurt, stubbornness and frustration, that we both made decisions, some deliberate and intentional, others lacking complete intentionality, that drove a very solid wedge between us.

Let me be clear – hindsight is 20/20. In the moment, I never saw this. I actually didn’t see any of this until that conversation a few days ago. But the very ugly truth is that, over time, I came to care so little about him, and his feelings, that I would live my life with absolutely zero regard towards how my actions would affect him. He became insignificant and unimportant in my life.

Guys, we were married. I was his wife. And, though it was unintentional, I was, at the very least, a big giant jerk to him and at the very most, an astonishingly cold-hearted and inconsiderate human.

Just because it was unintentional doesn’t make it okay. Sure, I didn’t set out in the morning, when I opened my eyes, and plan how I was going to hurt him that day. I also didn’t set out that morning, when I opened my eyes, and plan how I would fill his life with happiness that day.

Truly loving somebody else is placing their happiness above your own. Seeing them happy should make you happy.

I didn’t care about his happiness. Because he didn’t care about mine.

Goodness, how wrong that thinking is!

Look at what it did, the outcome of that thought process…and to so many lives.

For the last 7 months, and for years before that, even if I thought that perhaps my actions could hurt him, I didn’t care. If it was something I wanted to do, I’d do it. His reaction to my actions weren’t my fault.

But, in a lot of ways, they were.

It wasn’t that I would purposely do something to hurt him. I’m not consciously evil. It’s that I wouldn’t think twice and consider that my actions could perhaps hurt him. He was that inconsequential to me.

Ouch.

Time for this incredibly inconsiderate person to eat crow.

Should he have betrayed me for almost a year? Of course not. Is it my fault? Of course not.

Were we operating from a place of love towards one another? Of course not.

My happiness didn’t matter to him. His happiness didn’t matter to me. Neither one of us mattered to the other.

Again…ouch.

I see the wife I was to him. I see it now, at least. Operating from a place of hurt and anger is simply a terrible way to live. And just because his behavior was poor and it did cause me pain and damage, it still doesn’t excuse my shitty behavior. I’m a grown woman capable of making sound decisions. I’m intuitive and bright. I engage in self-reflection. Yet, I chose to play the role of victim and react with venom, adding to the toxic environment. And then I justified it.

Not anymore.

My friend encouraged me to try to finally forgive. And not just my ex. But to take an honest look at my role in this and then forgive myself. He told me that it was an absolutely essential step in my ability to move forward. In the moment of that conversation, I probably looked at him like he was crazy.

But you know what? He’s right. So I have. I am. I’ve already begun to let my hurt go. I’ve come to terms with all the circumstances that have ultimately brought me here, to today, and to writing this blog.

If I want to move forward and continue to grow, if I want to be a positive and loving example to my daughter, and if I want to have any chance at having a healthy relationship in the future, I have to be a good human. And I have to face the realities that, during my marriage and right up until this last Friday night, I was not. And I have to not only forgive him, but I have to forgive myself.

So today, I am at a place where I have hope. I have hope that we can be civil to one another. I have hope that we can respect one another. I have hope that we will be supportive and kind to our future new spouses. I have hope that, someday, all 4 of us will be incredible parents to our marvelous little girl.

I have hope that, from this day forward (or, at least, most of the days that will follow), I will make the daily choice to walk through this life with purposeful intention, acting from a place filled with grace, and of love, which is once again filling my heart.

Crow has never tasted so good.

life

Everyone Needs a Lighthouse

A Graceful Catastrophe

According to the National Park Service’s website, a lighthouse “is a tower with a bright light at the top” and its purpose is to “serve as a navigational aid and to warn boats of dangerous areas.”

I am in a boat. And I’m out sailing the turbulent waters of this catastrophe, in areas of the vast sea that appear ever so scary and dangerous.

You all, well, most of you, are my lighthouses. You shine your bright light straight into my soul, illuminating my path, cautioning me away from the dangerous areas. You remind me that my actions impact my daughter…because I’m not sailing alone. You remind me that I am strong. You remind me that not only should I live my life with grace and class, I am also fully capable of it.

You remind me that my feelings are valid. That anger is an appropriate response at this juncture. I’ve only been navigating this storm for 2 months. You remind me that it will get better. You remind me that I am not alone. You share your stories with me, giving me perspective from the other side.

You envelop me with love. So. Much. Love! You make it so that I can hold my head high and choose to live with compassion. Because you remind me of how loved I am. And when you’re loved unconditionally, you are capable of anything.

You. My lighthouses. You have helped to navigate me away from such nasty waters, ones that I almost sank in.

Tonight, I’ve found a patch of calm sea. I’m drifting in a bit of peace. Because you’ve given me the strength to steer my boat out of danger.

I appreciate you for lifting me up, for shining your beautiful light in my direction, for helping guide me back to who I am at my core.

Tonight, after being home for all of about 5 minutes, my ex and I had yet another heated exchange. I told him, again, that I hated him. And then I went to my room and read and re-read your messages to me. Love flooded through me. And soon enough, so did my internal strength. I want to give grace. I want to be understanding. He’s the father of my child. A man I have a lot of history with and someone I wouldn’t have ever married had he not been a good person. He may not deserve grace right now, but I want to give it to him. After spending some time breathing and reading your messages that were all filled with beautiful love, I went downstairs and asked my ex if we could talk.

And we did.

It started a bit rough, but I was filled with your light and your love, so I was able to remain calm. Eventually, his anger dissipated. You know, I am not someone who enjoys being filled with hate. I am a peaceful, compassionate, and loving person. It just takes so much awful energy to feel such an intense negative feeling. It is toxic and I don’t enjoy who I am when I’m filled with it.

So tonight, I was able to let it go. Again.

I’m angry. Hurt. Sad. Emotional. I mean, I’m pretty much a general mess. But I’m not filled with that rage and hate anymore. It is no longer all consuming. I was able to let it go – and without punching something this time. And I feel so much lighter again.

These blogs are personal. They’re raw. And they’re written in real-time. So because of that, I am able to receive your unconditional support and love in real time. I receive your beautiful light and it shines so strongly into my soul that it is overwhelming and brings me to tears, in a most amazing way. Thanks to you, I was able to process through this negative space of the last several days without resorting to behavior that I could potentially regret (like a broken hand).

And my ex and I are in a decent place once again. He apologized. I apologized. We want to be better to one another. To do better. I know he genuinely wants to improve how he responds to the stressors in his life. When it comes to stress and choosing how to respond – with fight or flight – he has pretty much always chosen to fight. He gets backed into a corner and he lashes out. It isn’t right – and he knows that. And just like Maya Angelou says, when you know better, you do better.

I know better, too. I know that the best way to approach life is with grace, compassion, and understanding. You catch a whole lot more flies with honey than you do with vinegar…isn’t that the saying?

At times I’m so hurt that I feel broken. But you put me right back together. You lift me up, taking turns when it all just gets too heavy for any one of you. But there has always been someone else to take your place, jump in, and show me love.

So, thank you for that message. I am paying it forward and showing my ex that same message. And hopefully he can learn how to pay it forward and show grace and compassion when life gets just a little too uncomfortable, rather than go on the attack.

We live what we know. I am fortunate enough to know unconditional love from so many different people. Now that I’m filled with it, I want to live that love you all have shown me, time and time again.

I am not broken. Maybe I’m cracked. And I’m definitely not shattered. My boat is intact for the most part, though perhaps taking on just a little water. I have the resources necessary to make sure my boat doesn’t sink. I won’t drown. And I’m beyond grateful for those resources.

I am choosing to live with grace again. I am choosing to use my resources to help me grow and have a better tomorrow than I did today. My boat will be stronger every day…because of you all.

My ex may not deserve the grace but deep down, he is a good person. He’s just lost. We live what we know and I want him to know that there are better ways to respond to stressful, awful situations than to lash out and attack. He needs a lighthouse. Perhaps I will start building one for him, one beautiful brick at a time, built with compassion, grace, and understanding.

Everyone needs a lighthouse.

life

Choices

A Graceful Catastrophe

The one thing you can’t take away from me is the way I choose to respond to what you do to me. The last of one’s freedoms is to choose one’s attitude in any given circumstance.”

-Viktor E. Frankl

The origins of this quote stem from an entirely different reality but hits home with me nonetheless. Life is simply a series of choices.

Choice is an extremely interesting concept and I think many of us forget exactly how much control over our lives we really do have. We paint the lives we have with our choices every day. It is up to me, and no one else, how I decide to see my world. And for a long time, I chose to focus on the negative in my (ex) husband, so that became the world I lived in.

Because I chose to focus on all of his faults, all of the ways I was treated disrespectfully and hurtfully, all of the times he was either emotionally abusive or manipulative – or both, I painted my (ex) husband as someone who didn’t deserve kindness, much less love, in return.

Every day, for so long it makes me feel uncomfortable, I painted this extremely detailed world – one where I was the victim. I was unloved. I wasn’t enough. I, perhaps with no conscious effort, chose to self-sabotage my marriage.

Those are strong words. But I’ve been nothing but honest here, completely transparent, especially with myself. That’s been my choice of how to process a world that was filled to the brim with lies. I am doing constant and intense self-reflection. When a catastrophe hits your world, there are obviously many ways to handle it. I have chosen to spend a lot of time looking within.

When I chose to take my (ex) husband’s attacks personally, when I chose to react with something so far away from compassion that it hurts me to think of the person I was, I was allowing my world to self-destruct. At any given time, I could have chosen to respond with a gentle, caring heart.

Okay, but really, do you know how hard that would’ve been?! I was quite sick, basically at the level of “functioning adult” and not much more, and was being berated for being an awful wife. I was the butt of the jokes when we hung out with other people. I was humiliated and embarrassed, both publicly and privately. The things that my (ex) husband said to me in in the safety of our home and during our arguments, simply put, cut me to my soul. It would have taken intentional effort to respond with compassion. And I was so exhausted and hurt.

But here’s the kicker. I am so exhausted (emotionally) and hurt now. The pain cuts so deep now, far deeper than it has the last 6 years. I have the same baggage as before – not feeling “enough” – but it’s become sharply intensified since March 17. Yet, despite all of this, I am choosing to live with kindness. I am actively choosing to not react to his anger and hurt and jealousy. I am giving grace. I am doing today what I actively chose not to do before. Every single day, I intentionally choose to treat my (ex) husband with the grace and compassion he doesn’t deserve. I didn’t realize it during the last 6 years, but my choices actively destroyed our marriage. Well, they at least aided to the collapse.

Well, now our marriage is over. Shattered. Completely wrecked. And all that’s left are the people involved. And people deserve grace – even when they don’t.

So now, when my (ex) husband is angry, or hurt, and has the apparent need to lash out, I, rather willingly, become the (figurative) punching bag. I let him throw all the low blows he desires. I barely blink as he says all the things, as he throws words and phrases at me that are laced with so much venom. Because now, I understand how to not take those words personally. The toxicity pouring from his mouth comes from a place so deep inside him that he has no clue where to even find it. It comes from so much childhood and adult trauma. It all comes within him and has very little to actually do with me.

Some of the times, living with the level of intentionality I am choosing to live with just becomes too much – and I mess up. The conscious effort it takes to live with grace becomes overwhelming and I find myself behaving in a manner that is far more how I used to respond to things, rather than how I actively want to respond to them now. Old habits are hard to break and it takes all of the intentionality I can muster, all of the conscious thought and effort, to respond how I want to respond. Sometimes the knee-jerk reaction is still there.

But when you know better, you do better. And now I know better. So I am doing what I can, moment by moment, to do better.

I choose, at every opportunity that I consciously remember to, to give grace. To live with true kindness in my heart. To approach the current relationship we’re in – one now as coparents – with the compassion I consciously refused to give for the last 6 years of our marriage. To be the punching bag.

By leading with grace and kindness, I am actively choosing happiness. By understanding this has so very little to do with me and so much to do with him, I am capable of forgiving him when he chooses to attack me. By consciously self-reflecting, I remember that my choices were not always coming from a place of love and my focus, for so many years, was destructive.

When you know better, you should choose to do better. Today, I choose grace, therefore, I am choosing happiness (and I do strongly believe that happiness is far more choice than it is emotion). Every day, I paint the world I live in with my thoughts and I now refuse to focus on the negative energy that was my focal point for so long.

We must be careful with the choices we make. And we must remember how much control over our choices, over our world, we really do have.

I will actively choose happiness, grace, kindness, and compassion, especially in the moments where those are the hardest to muster. Because I choose to live in a world that is filled with rainbows and butterflies. So that is the world I will paint by choosing my thoughts intentionally and carefully.

We must choose our thoughts and actions wisely. We must be careful to avoid helping to create the catastrophe. And if it’s too late, if catastrophe is already upon you, if your world has already imploded, as it has for me, then choose grace moving forward.

We cannot always choose what happens to us. We can, and absolutely should, choose how we react and move forward. Give yourself grace and especially give it when others don’t deserve it.

life

34 Days

A Graceful Catastrophe

It’s been 34 days since I found out my husband had been cheating on me since last May. It’s really quite incredible how much can occur in a mere 34 days. And it’s even more amazing how much one can process and grow after experiencing trauma.

I learned that I am capable of emotions I didn’t even think were real. I’ve learned that I am capable of choosing how to digest life. I’ve learned that I can have completely different answers to the same questions, depending on the day, and sometimes the hour, and fully believe that each answer is accurate, though they may be polar opposites. I’ve learned that I can be forgiving in a situation I once judged the heck out of and I’ve learned that PTSD can come in moments as simple as receiving an email notification.

I’ve been uplifted by my community, showered with generosity at levels that have made me cry, been hugged and supported more times than a person should need in just 34 days. I have felt genuine and beautiful love from people who were complete strangers 6 months ago and caring, sweet concern and love from people I’ve known since childhood. My immediate family has rallied behind me, showing me unconditional love by just being there to listen.

I broke my hand and have felt no physical pain, yet experienced emotional pain that cut through my soul. I’ve laughed wonderfully one minute, then ugly cried the next minute. I went from wishing my (ex) husband were dead to hugging him and crying with him, and trying to be empathetic with him about his pain.

All in 34 days.

The 27 or so hours that occurred between this last Thursday night and Friday night were some of the most difficult yet. The mindset I’d chosen after coming back from North Carolina this last Monday has treated me well. I liked the space I was entering. I felt mentally and emotionally strong.

And then something happened that triggered my (ex) husband, something that caused an interesting array of feelings to suddenly appear.

You see, in order to do what he did to me, his head space was such that he didn’t love me anymore. Because no one who actually adores their partner would ever do something like that, over and over again, for almost a year. He didn’t even care about me.

Or so he thought. He realized, late Thursday night, early Friday morning, that he does care about me deeply. He may still love me. And has been consumed with self-hatred, regret, and shame since. He’s finally feeling a fraction of the hurt I feel. He’s discovered empathy.

This has been so hard for me.

You don’t stop loving your husband immediately when something like this happens. Perhaps some people do, but I sure didn’t. He’s a good person, he has a great heart, and he’s the father of my child. So, I had to shut down that love. I had to turn it off. It’s not that I’ve fallen out of love, it’s that I had to bury the love in order to maintain a semblance of sanity.

I also stopped focusing on the pain of the betrayal. I buried the person he was to me. His role as husband was officially dead. Instead, I chose to consciously see him as the person he is to me – still the father of my child and someone who has all the potential to be a great friend. By changing his definition, by choosing to focus my thoughts differently, is how I’ve been able to gracefully move forward. My newly constructed mindset is still quite fluid, though. I’m still grieving, and some days, living through those day to day moments is still a struggle. I am very much still in survivor mode. I’m just here for the journey, riding the wave until the seas calm.

And then the full realization of not only his actions, but his feelings he’d buried so deep, come boiling to the surface, exploding out in such an emotional burst, that it took us both by surprise.

How do I process that?! This doesn’t fit in my nice little mindset frame that I built.

So, yesterday I tried handling it by working out until I was stupid (does anyone else turn dumb after intense workouts?? Is that a thing? Seriously, inquiring minds want to know…), because feeling physical pain and exhaustion is far easier to comprehend than emotional pain and exhaustion. And today I worked out again, pushing my body to its limits, causing me to feel that euphoric high that occurs when you crush a goal.

And you know what? I’m processing it all much better today.

Add that to the list of things I’ve learned in the last 34 days: having a healthy outlet to turn to when the emotions just get too much is life saving. Without exercise, without the community at my gym, I don’t know where I’d be. Having a healthy response (exercising) to wild emotions helps keep me from *accidentally* breaking my bones. I know, a shocking concept, right? *eyeroll*

After my last workout of the day today, my head felt less foggy, my emotions less erratic. My mindset has changed a bit – again – focusing now on the hope that through this pain and trauma, both of us will become better people. We can’t change the past, the choices that were already made, but we can surely focus on becoming better humans. We can both choose to move forward with grace.

David Crosby wrote about pain that was beautiful, really. He said, essentially, that “your pain is changing you.” There is no doubt that this pain is changing the both of us.

This chapter of my life is a full on storm filled with blinding pain and, therefore, an abundance of opportunities to show grace and compassion. I feel that I am a completely different person today than I was 35 days ago. At first I was sad when the old me died, as she was very good to me. Now, in just this short period of time, I’m finding I love the new me even more. Already.

Imagine what 68 days from now will look like. A full year. I don’t know why I’m on this path but there is a purpose to it. Nothing happens to us by accident.

So I, as best as I can, now embrace the trauma. I am grateful for the pain. Without the last 34 days, I would’ve never been who I am now becoming.

We all live through storms, some of our storms are more like a Cat 5 hurricane, some just a quick thunderstorm passing by. One is not greater than the other, all storms come with moments to embrace the ugly and hurt and turn it into something beautiful.

We just have to frame our mindset to see the beauty, rather than the pain. While I fully acknowledge that this isn’t possible all the time, I’ve learned that mindset is everything. We paint our world with our thoughts…and then have to live in that world. Why not make it full of rainbows and butterflies?

So, as you navigate your storms, both present and future, choose your thoughts wisely. As will I.

And always remember, we are all stronger than we think. We all have the ability to overcome.

My strength, currently, comes from reflecting on how much has happened, how much I’ve changed in just 34 days. It gives me hope for the next day, as that is all I can focus on right now. This storm has already lessened in its intensity and I know I’ve already grown exponentially.

I have hope for tomorrow again.

And it’s only been 34 days.