Tag: grace

life

Lucky

A Graceful Catastrophe

I am lucky.

Yes, sure, I am going through some things right now and processing this chapter of my life has been interesting, to say the least. I’m on a wild ride with my emotions, my hand is slowly healing, and my (ex) husband has been so kind that it’s confusing. I’m constantly having to re-evaluate my boundaries and remind myself that life as I once knew it has forever changed. While daily moments feel “normal,” they aren’t.

Yet, I’m lucky.

I have an incredible community that surrounds me with love and continuously lifts me up. I have friends that run away on spontaneous vacations with me. I have friends that, even after well over a month, still check in on me. The families I work for are the most understanding and giving people. My incredibly sweet neighbors surprise me with the most delicious chocolate chip cookies. My parents constantly worry about me and remind me daily that they are there for me and my daughter. My friends and followers on social media, from all over the world, send me messages that they’re thinking of me and make sure I am okay. Today, my house is cleaner and more organized than it has been in months, thanks to two incredibly hard working women. My gym family pushes me through killer workouts so I can keep working on having both a fit body and fit mind. And even my doctor and all the medical staff at the orthopedic group I go to care about me and give me hugs when I go for my check ups. Everyone wants to help.

I hear stories about women who’ve been cheated on and how their spouses responded to getting caught. It’s not pretty. I’m so fortunate that when my (ex) husband’s two worlds collided, it humbled him. He’s been validating me. He’s been complimentary on how I’m handling all of this. He’s being a wonderful father. He knows he needs help and wants it. He’s actually been reflective (he’s never been reflective).

Today, I am happy. Better yet, I’m rather at peace with what has happened. Grateful. I think this is what was necessary to jolt me (us) awake.

So often, we (married couples) get caught in negative cycles and get stuck, both unwilling and unknowing how to get out. My (ex) husband’s actions were equivalent to someone grabbing me by the shoulders and shaking me – hard. And actually, now that it’s out in the open, I’d say the same is true for him.

We’re both very much awake.

Which means we can work to do better. Albeit, now as individuals.

And that makes me smile.

Whatever the future has in store for him, for me, for my daughter, I think it’ll be good. We’ll always be a family but we won’t necessarily always be together. And that is okay. Eventually it’ll probably be better than okay.

Today the waves are calmer. And because I fully understand that these moments don’t linger, I’m taking the time to pause and soak it in.

Today, I am grateful for my (ex) husband’s infidelity. My world was shaken, straight down to its core. He lied and manipulated for almost a year. And because of that, I’ve taken honesty to the next level. I want to be the polar opposite of who he was (is?). I am currently living my most honest and authentic life. To me, lying has always been the most despicable character trait. Nothing ever made me more mad than encountering a liar. And here I was, married to one. Yet, oddly enough, I’m finding myself grateful for that very attribute.

Him, having the most loathsome of character flaws, is giving me the opportunity to practice grace and be understanding to an extent I’ve never been able to truly practice before. I consider myself to be patient and kind. I’ve also always found it difficult to forgive a liar.

There has never been a better occasion for me to practice forgiveness. To truly give grace to someone who least deserves it.

His indiscretions are helping me grow to be a me that I may have never been able to become without this adversity.

I sit here and really cannot believe that I’m even feeling this – I’m actually grateful that my husband cheated on me?! And not just, like, an oops, one time thing, but months and months of it?

Yes, I am.

I have been given a chance to practice being a better human. What an amazing opportunity.

I am lucky this happened now. And so very grateful. Since I’m still relatively young, this skill set I am working on mastering is going to serve me well for the next 40 or 50 years of my life.

Maybe this is how we all should approach life’s catastrophes. Mindset is everything. If we look at the events in our lives that shake us to our cores as opportunities to grow, to reflect, to be better humans on this Earth, then we can stop questioning why it happened to us. We don’t have to be victims. We can be incredibly strong and beautiful people, with the capacity to forgive, to give grace, and to love, fully and unconditionally – and not only for others, but, perhaps more importantly, for ourselves, too.

Wouldn’t you want to live in that type of world? I do.

So I will not be bitter. I will stop asking why he did this to our family. I’ll stop feeling like he threw me away. I’ll stop wondering if I’ll ever be enough. I’ll live each day as best as I can (giving myself grace when I make my own mistakes, too).

Look, I am fully aware that today is a good day. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll read this blog and laugh because it’s so “butterflies and rainbows.” Nonetheless, I feel strongly that I am supposed to use this as an opportunity to grow.

Tonight, I will rest better than I have in over a month.

Because tonight, I am going to sleep with a mindset focused on gratitude.

I am really so very lucky.

life

The Wave

A Graceful Catastrophe

Not even 2 hours before I started writing this, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I was pleasantly surprised when I saw a glimmer of happiness in my eyes, a speck of hope. As I walked past the mirror just now, before sitting down to write, I just saw pain and hurt staring back at me.

Depending on when you talk to me, I’m having a great day, an okay day, or a difficult day. And all three could occur (and have) in a matter of 20 minutes.

I think the most difficult part of where I currently am in this journey are the triggers – especially since I don’t know what they are or when they’ll hit.

Tonight, I came home from Target and we were both in the kitchen, making a snack. We talked about watching something together on T.V. I was in a great mood and so was he. And then he made a joke, which, while under “normal” circumstances would’ve been harmless, it wasn’t at all a joke to me. It triggered me and I began to quietly spiral.

For the next hour or so, I played this movie in my head, filled with imaginary scenes I concocted as thoughts of his indiscretions rained upon my brain in a sudden downpour. He must’ve noticed because he came over and asked if I wanted to talk, or yell, or stab him with the fork I was using (he likes to make jokes when he doesn’t know what else to do).

I told him, with pain and sadness dripping from my voice, that this was just part of the process. I ride the wave. If grief strikes, or anger, or loads of disgust, I try to feel every bit of it. I have to. I don’t dare stifle the emotions, or try to bury them, or else they’ll surely continue to haunt me, years into the future. And I definitely don’t want that to happen.

You see, I fully understand with my logical brain that I am on a roller coaster that has no end in sight. I feel like I have embraced this; I am on a journey at sea and am at the mercy of the waves. Sometimes the sea is calm and in those moments, I feel legitimately strong, hopeful, and happy. Other times, though…man! It’s like I’m riding through the craziest storm. I mean, we’re talking Cat 5 hurricane. And my poor boat is being rocked so hard that I don’t have a clue how I’m even holding on. How is it possible that I haven’t yet drowned?

I’m exhausted at times, so emotionally drained, just from hanging on.

And that is okay. I am perfectly fine being broken right now, picking up my pieces one by one and learning how they will now all fit back together. I will not be okay still struggling to find peace with all of this years down in the future. Now is the time to face it and deal with it, so I can move forward with a newfound strength I still don’t fully realize I have.

And so I workout. I write. Sometimes I talk. And a lot of times, I just process alone.

And I ride the wave.

*This was written at night on 4/22/2019, but then I fell asleep. *shrug*

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.

life

Class & Grace

A Graceful Catastrophe

When the shit hits the fan, it splatters all over everything. Some days it just feels like you accidentally stepped a toe in it. Some days it feels like you’re drowning in it, gagging on it with every breath you try to take.

Today, I’m drowning.

There are exactly 86,400 seconds in a day. I’m sleeping somewhere around 5 or 6 hours a night lately, so let’s subtract 21,600 seconds (6 hours). That’s 64,800 waking seconds. That means that I have to remind myself to live with class and grace about 3,240 times every day. That’s about 3 times a minute.

Okay, I may be exaggerating a smidge, but not by much.

It is a constant battle, raging inside, to be gracious, to be understanding and compassionate…. I’ve learned today that sometimes not causing my (ex) husband any physical pain is actually an act of class and grace. Sometimes I have to very loosely define what it is to act with class and grace, and I have also learned that loose definitions are okay.

On good days, acting with a bit of a higher bar, a more classic definition of class and grace, is simple. Some days, it’s really so easy. Some days I feel like we really could be friends, that he can live right there in the basement for the next 8 years. And then some days, like today, my interactions with him are anything but classy and I think it’d be great if he left right this second. And then there are those days where I think one way for 5 minutes, another way for the next 20 minutes, and then I’m a puddle, crying for the next 30. I have very little control over anything right now, much less my emotions. I’m just kind of along for the ride.

Which is why I have to be intentional and tell myself about 3,240 times a day to give grace. More often than not, it’s usually said out loud, in a stern voice, and with significant volume.

Acting with class and grace through this, while trying to raise a strong, independent, and happy child, sometimes feels like the most impossible thing to do. I have worked my tail off for almost 9 years to make sure I am raising her right. So far, so good. My daughter is caring, clever, and has lofty goals, with even bigger dreams. It is my absolute nightmare that anything that is going on around her undoes all of my hard work.

Let me explain really quickly why I say “my hard work” because that was intentionally written. I was chatting with a friend these last few days and she calls it “being the heavy.” I have done the vast majority of the hard stuff for my daughter’s whole life. I am consistent, predictable, and firm. And she has thrived. I am not the “fun parent.” I do the “heavy lifting.” I’m the one raising a child into someone who will be a productive member of our society. I mean, she wants to go to MIT! The road to MIT starts now and she understands fully that actions have consequences. I’ve told her since she was barely a toddler that “good things happen to people who make good decisions…and the opposite of that is also true.”

So, she works hard to make good decisions. My greatest fear is that I will inadvertently ruin the work of the last almost 9 years by mishandling this situation. I’m an adult and am having a hard enough time processing what is happening! How in the world will she end up absorbing the end of her parent’s marriage? Thankfully, she is being spared the details, but you hear all the time how divorce changes children, and because she has no clue why, it’s all very sudden and confusing to her.

Which is why I initially thought it’d be best for my daughter to have daddy around, still living in the house, even though that is the most difficult thing for me. I can’t stand seeing him. I see a stranger where my husband once was. He’s not even remotely close to the person I thought he was – in fact, he’s exactly the person I was convinced he’d never be. And I have to see him anytime he’s not traveling for business and for now, that’s just about the hardest, most awful thing for me.

But then I see my daughter’s happiness when she sees him here first thing in the morning. And all that felt impossible feels possible once again. For her. So she is minimally affected. It’s not about me, really. I’m an adult with an incredible community. I can suck it up. And while my daughter may be able to as well, I just don’t know that for certain. So, for now, he stays. I’m the heavy. And because I’m the heavy, every decision I make is run through the filter of how it will affect my daughter. It’s all for her.

Which is exactly what has kept me from lashing out against my (ex) husband. Thank you, my sweet child of mine. And I’m sure your daddy thanks you, too. It’s quite shocking, really. I never thought I’d be someone capable of even thinking about hurting a living being but extreme trauma and pain make you think in some really intense ways. So, for today, the simple decision to not act upon the desire to cause great physical pain is the loose definition of me acting with class and grace. It’s all I can muster at this point.

Thankfully, I know tomorrow will be a better day because tomorrow will be a busy one, as I get back into my routine and away from vacation mode. Busy is good. And because mindset is everything, it will be one where more hope lies, one where I will once again believe with all my heart that children are resilient and I won’t “ruin” my daughter with whatever decisions I make regarding this messy, shitty situation.

Hopefully tomorrow, only a toe gets in the shit.

life

A Graceful Catastrophe

A Graceful Catastrophe

Google defines “graceful” as having or showing grace or elegance. Grace, in the way I am wanting to use it, is then defined as:

  • courteous goodwill
  • an attractively polite manner of behaving.

Catastrophe is defined by Google as:

  • an event causing great and often sudden damage or suffering; a disaster.

Despite suffering a pretty major catastrophe, with disastrous results, I am now choosing to live my life filled with grace towards others. Starting with my (ex) husband.

I didn’t get to this point immediately, though. I am currently typing this with a “boxer’s fracture” in my right hand. If you don’t know what that is, it is most commonly referred to as a break in the pinky finger, typically occurring after punching something.

You may not know me, so, let me quickly describe myself. I am an eternal optimist. I describe myself as being filled with rainbows and sunshine. I struggle killing insects – even mosquitoes. I am not, generally speaking, impulsive or violent.

However, the mind’s response is quite fascinating when presented with stress.

On March 17th, while at a dinner party for St. Patrick’s Day, a catastrophe struck in the middle of my heart. My home, as I knew it, was destroyed. I received an email from a stranger at 6:08 pm, telling me my husband has been leading a double life for over 6 months. See, he’s a stereotypical traveling salesman, who decided that turning to Ashley Madison was the way to fix an unhappy marriage. In a way, he was right. He is no longer in an unhappy marriage because we are no longer married. (I mean, we haven’t quite sorted things out to be legally separated, but that’s strictly a technicality.)

The rage and fury within was something I didn’t realize I was capable of, and, to be perfectly honest, I thought that extent of emotion was only real in movies. On Day 4, I lost my ever loving mind. I went into a complete blind rage (that’s totally a thing, by the way). I hated him with every cell in my body and in that moment, I wanted to hurt him. Like, really, really hurt him. I thought about attacking him but somehow ended up punching a column in the kitchen a few times instead. I didn’t really realize what I was doing. I actually don’t really remember much about those moments. He’d said something that triggered me and that was the end of any rational thought.

So, I broke my pinky bone bad enough that a few days later, I had surgery. I now have a significantly bulky cast on my hand that happens to slow down typing tremendously. *sigh*

But, a curious thing happened. My rage is gone. My hate is gone. And it happened instantly. Punching the wall, breaking my hand, was, simply put, cathartic. All the anger, rage, and fury flew out of my body through my fist. Immediately after it happened, I literally felt flooded with an inner peace. It was incredible.

I’ve heard that the people who least deserve grace are the ones who most deserve it. My ex-husband does not deserve grace. Yet, that is exactly what I am choosing to give him. He is still the father of my child, who is a sweet and innocent bystander in this catastrophe. She’s watching me and is ridiculously conscious of my every move. While she doesn’t quite understand yet, my actions are showing her how to handle pain and trauma. How to respond to those that hurt you. Revenge isn’t the answer. And surely hate only hurts the one who harbors it.

Love is always the answer.

I am hurt, disappointed, and awfully sad. Someone is going to cause my daughter to feel those exact emotions. How do I want her to handle herself when that time comes? I know one thing for sure, I definitely do not want her spinning into a blind rage where she becomes someone, even momentarily, that scares her. I don’t want her to realize she’s capable of such dark and ugly thoughts. I want her initial response to be that of grace and compassion.

So that is exactly what I am showing her. I’ve learned so much about myself in the days since March 17th. Some of which scared me and shook me to my core. Who knew I was potentially capable of such evil? Is that living deep within all of us?

It may have come about 4 days late, and my broken hand is an undeniable part of my story now. Though I believe it is there as a conscious reminder that I have to intentionally choose to live through this catastrophe gracefully. This deliberate way of living is for my daughter just as much as it is for myself.

We all have choices as to how we handle the difficult situations life throws at us. Please be sure you choose wisely. I will, too, as I will now consciously choose to live life with grace and class…(and muscles. But that’s for another blog. *wink*)

Uncategorized

The Journey Begins

A Graceful Catastrophe

You just really don’t know when the universe is going to throw a curve-ball at you. One day, life is your typical beautiful chaos, as you try to maintain some semblance of sanity, balancing – or trying to balance, it all. Whatever “all” is for you.

And then, completely out of nowhere (but usually not really, there are almost always signs that you missed) BAM! The world as you once knew it completely explodes. Or shatters. Or implodes. However you wish to describe it, life is forever changed.

This blog is dedicated to explaining my perspective of my journey as I start over, choosing to live with class and grace (most of the time), following the catastrophe that made my world explode. Thanks for joining me.

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton

2019-03-31 (6)