empowered – A Graceful Catastrophe

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

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

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

- Outnumbered
Dermot Kennedy

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

I am a hopeless romantic.

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

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

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

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

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

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

How long can I wait for the one I deserve?

A lifetime, if I have to.

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

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

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

And this is only the beginning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One where I am free to be me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Life 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:

suffer (something painful or difficult) patiently.
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.

Tag: empowered

Only the Beginning

Suffer Patiently