Tag: friends

life, love

Love in this life?

A Graceful Catastrophe

On Feb. 28, 2021, I wrote a blog by this title, minus the question mark. I’ve lived a bit more life since I wrote that hopeful little piece and the way I think of love has changed once again.

At that point in my life, I always thought of love in a romantic sense. With a forever partner. And I always thought that that specific kind of love had evaded me, since I always seemed to have problems with romantic love.

What I have since discovered is that I actually have experienced that rich, beautiful, loyal, unconditional love I had always been chasing and felt I’d never received because, well, the choices I made in men and the choices those men made. I had just been looking for it in the wrong places and ignoring the love that I had been cloaked in for years.

That darling, special love is the love I experience with my closest friends. They’re always judgment free zones, they ask questions and push me to be a better version of myself, they’re my biggest cheerleaders, and the ones that support me unconditionally. I was so focused on romantic love and felt its absence soooo intensely that I completely ignored the greatest love of all.

My closest friends have witnessed pretty much all the versions of me and have never once done anything other than celebrate each me that’s ever existed. I’ve never been too much for them and I’ve never had to shrink myself for them. Their words have been writing me love letters for decades and their actions have backed up each and every one of their sentences.

Now, when I hear a love song on the radio, I think of the friendships I have in abundance, those people who define what love truly is and how it is supposed to feel. They know how to love me, how to support me, and how to encourage me. When I go silent and retreat because life is just too heavy to be able to lift the weight from me, they patiently wait for me. And when I come back, they welcome me back as though I’d never gone missing and no beats were skipped.

True love is sitting with my bestie in her living room while we’re each on our phones doing our own thing because simply breathing the same air and sharing the same space is enough. She demands nothing from me, and I return that same sentiment. True love is knowing how much music and lyrics touch my heart and receiving a random song on a random day, because my bestie thought of me. True love is showing up for an event for my bestie and barely even talking to her because she’s busy hosting, yet we still feel the love between one another, without a single spoken word.

True love is listening to my drama and asking me questions and leaning in with curiosity and when I say that I just don’t know and lack understanding and clarity, they say that’s okay and remind me it’s a normal space to be in, all while being free of judgments and their opinions.

I have experienced an abundance of true love in this life. It’s always been there, I just didn’t realize it was defined in this way. Once I shifted and started listening to love songs through the lens of friendship, I practically melted.

Love in this life? Yeah, I have it. Wholly, deeply, completely. And, man, am I lucky.

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

Fight or Flight?

A Graceful Catastrophe

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

As adults, life is still anything but fair.

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

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

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

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

Life. Isn’t. Fair. You know it, too.

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

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

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

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

And then what?

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

So how do we get through it?

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

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

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

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

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

I’m ready to fight now.

Are you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I don’t know who I am. Honestly.

And that’s so hard to admit.

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

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

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

But there has to be a balance.

So how do I find it?

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

Oof, I am angry.

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

Because relationships aren’t infinite.

*sigh*

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

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

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

Maybe this is the new me.

Distrusting. Angry. Frustrated. Jaded. Bitter.

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

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

So here we are. Full circle.

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

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

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

So, ladies and gentlemen, how do we fight?

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

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

And they are all valid.

This blog feels absolutely all over the place.

Real time.

Real emotions.

This is life.

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

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

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

So, I hope you can forgive me.

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

I guess I’m asking for grace.

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