Tag: hope

life, love

What is to Come?

A Graceful Catastrophe

I fell in love.

Yep. There it is.

I’ve been open and honest about the vast array of complicated emotions that have filled my life over the last 9 months and for some reason, sharing the negativity in my life wasn’t ever that difficult for me to do. We all have our own challenging journeys we have to navigate around and throughout these months, I have always known someone who was trying to trudge through much deeper and smellier shit than I was. So, somehow, it was just natural for me to write about mine. It’s always been cathartic.

This blog, though, is different. And the same. I will still be vulnerable and raw – I’ll just be telling a different type of story.

You see, this one is about love.

When everything exploded in my world, I stopped believing in romantic love. How could someone with two failed marriages possibly believe that true love exists? The answer is simple – she couldn’t.

I told my girlfriends that I’d never love again. Fairy tales aren’t real. Love like that surely doesn’t exist. I’ll never be swept off my feet by some Prince Charming. My heart was hardened. I didn’t want to feel love again. Because then, I’d inevitably have to feel that excruciating pain again. And I sure as shit never wanted to shatter again. There’s only so many times you can break before it’s a lost cause.

Or so I thought.

But in the end, I was wrong.

Because I did fall in love. And yet, I didn’t experience excruciating pain when it ended. And I surely didn’t shatter.

And yes, those of you who follow me and read these blogs, you know I fell in love with myself while in Greece.

But I’m talking about before that.

I’ve written from my heart – and with my heart – since I started this writing journey. I’ve been raw, honest, and vulnerable.

But, for some reason, writing about love is so much harder for me. Perhaps it’s because it’s the purest of emotions? Perhaps it’s because it hasn’t even been a year since finding out about my ex’s infidelity? Perhaps it’s because I hear so many people tell me that I can’t, shouldn’t, they wouldn’t…the list goes on. *sigh*

Yet, here I am, my heart racing with nerves as I write this, because love is probably the most intense topic I’ve written about to date. For me, it really is the hardest.

So, thank you. Thank you for reading, for supporting, for commenting, and encouraging, because I’m finally ready to write about love.

I gave my heart to a truly a wonderful man. A man who also happened to be completely emotionally unavailable for me. It was always going to be a dead-end relationship. Dead-end for many reasons.

But…you know what I realized this morning when I woke up?

I fell in love with this guy before I fell in love with myself.

That doesn’t work. It just doesn’t.

You can’t expect someone else to fill your bucket when it’s riddled with holes. I had that epiphany while in Greece and immediately went to work, patching up my holes.

And when I came back from Greece, my path had cleared. He’d fallen for someone else while I was away. It was always going to end and the timing felt right. I’d felt him pulling away for at least the last month we were “together,” so I knew it was coming.

And you know what? I’m happy for him. That’s how I know it was really love that I felt for him. His happiness, his ability to pursue his dreams and settle into the life he’d always imagined, that’s all more important than my momentary sadness at it ending. And since we’re both mature adults, we ended on excellent terms.

Plus…I had this, umm, I don’t even know what to call it other than a magical experience at Byzantino. This is the jewelry store I referenced in my blog: Today is Thursday and where I bought my ring made of old watch parts.

So, quick summary in case you missed that one… While I was in Greece, I went to a super special jewelry store. The women there were beautiful beings, filled with love that they projected onto me. We spent a fair amount of time chatting with one another and I shared my story with them. This was my last day in Greece and I had already undergone an incredible transformation. While we were chatting, one of the women told me things that she saw for my future. My daughter’s, as well. The energy in that little store was so intense while she was speaking and you could literally feel the power behind every word she spoke. It was a moment that has become etched into my very soul.

After purchasing my things, and before I walked out of the store, this same woman approached me with a gift. It was a glass blown heart pendant. As the other woman that worked there was placing it around my neck, she looked me straight in the eyes and began to speak to me about love. She told me that I was going to be blessed with love greater than I had ever experienced before, love that I barely could imagine exists, love that I had ceased to believe was real.

As she spoke these words, I felt my hair go up and had chills all over my body. It was an incredibly intense moment for me where…can you guess what happened? Of course. I cried. It was so intense for me because, with every cell in my being, I believed her. And I knew she wasn’t talking about anyone that was currently in my life.

Somebody else was out there for me. Hoping to feel love like he’d never been loved before. Looking up at the same stars and wishing for the same things as me. A fellow hopeless romantic who would yearn to understand me – all of me. Somebody who would want to hear my stories, feel my history, and use that to understand why I am who I am today. And, more importantly, (now here’s the kicker…) somebody who will choose to make time in his life for me.

My ex didn’t. He couldn’t put his phone down and couldn’t even pretend to care about anything I had to say. And the guy I was seeing, well, in his defense, his career is intense. He rarely has his phone on him during the day. Even so, there were ways he could’ve shown me that I was valued, had he chosen to try, rather than be satisfied having me as a mere convenience in his life. But he chose not to try.

And because of who I was then, because of the lack of love I had for myself, I allowed that type of treatment. I’ve said it before: how could I expect another to value me more than I valued myself?

But in Greece, I shifted. My path shifted. My whole universe shifted, guys! I felt it. Literally. Physically. I can’t even begin to explain the feeling, but people have told me, since coming home, that I look different. And I feel it. My whole aura is bright and light. So, yeah, there’s somebody out there who will match so perfectly with that, that when our paths align, I wouldn’t have to guess my importance in his life. Or hope for it. It’d just be. Effortless. But in the best of ways.

In that moment, in Athens, as I walked out of that jewelry store, my whole world was this new, magical place to live. As I left the little store that was the final piece to my soul’s puzzle, smiling and practically floating along, I fully opened my soul to the universe. My energy was changed. My heart was fully opened. I had learned in the previous month or two that I was capable of loving another. That was a pleasant surprise. I also had learned what made me feel uncomfortable in a relationship. What bags I could help carry and what ones I’d let the other unpack before deciding to join him on his journey. For weeks, I had been thinking I should let the guy go that I was seeing…and then he let me go.

“Trust the journey.” That’s what I kept telling myself in those early days. Over and over. I came home from Greece 3 weeks ago yesterday and, boy, did I struggle with getting my mindset right. It was a fight to be present – I didn’t want to be here. I wanted, desperately, to be back in Greece. So, one night, when I was feeling particularly melancholy, I wrote my photographer friend on Instagram – the one I’d just spent 6 days with in Greece. We’d talked a lot, both before my trip and also so much during my trip. He knew me well by this point and was quite familiar with my story. Here’s a bit of our conversation:

Me: B, I just want to experience all of Earth’s beauty. Greece opened my eyes to so much… And when I say “Greece” opened my eyes, a great deal of that was you. You are such a caring person. Genuine. I want someone in my life who cares like you do. And, man, did we laugh so easily! I want that, too. You set a bar, for a future relationship of how I want to be treated. You opened my eyes to so much more than photography. I’m really grateful for you, for the whole trip, for all the laughter…for everything.
B: No! This is normal. If you respect yourself, you respect others in the same way and I’m pretty sure that you’ll find someone who will care about you… I mean, for real this time. Believe it or not, everyone takes what he/she deserves to have in this life. It’s up to you to live the life that you want. Nothing beats a strong mindset. Everything else is just the result of this.

He repeated exactly what I’d been telling myself. Someone is only going to value, love, respect, (you fill in the blank) me as much as I do myself. I’ll get exactly what I think I deserve and nothing more. I know this now. And I know me now. And I love me! And I just know that somebody is going to see this light that I’m projecting like it’s a damn lighthouse and want to see what it’s all about.

The lady in the jewelry store was absolutely right. I will be loved again. And it’s going to feel out of this world incredible. And I know I deserve that. Because not only am I in a space that is open to being emotionally vulnerable, I also respect and value myself in such a beautiful way now. I’m comfortable being alone. Actually, I rather enjoy it. And I can find comfort in being uncomfortable. And the best feeling? I no longer rely on any outsider to define my worth. I define it.

So, when my path aligns with another, it will be as a sweet addition to my life, not a necessary one. I’ve never been in a position where I’ve felt that to be true. Goodness, it feels amazing.

It’s all quite delightful…this journey I am on. My path has never been clearer. I’ve never felt lighter or more sure of who I am. There’s 15 more days until my birthday and 16 until the last day of this decade. I’m ready to close it down and happily bid it farewell. A lot of incredible things happened in this decade. I’m quite honestly grateful for it all. Even March 17th, 2019. Maybe even especially March 17th, 2019.

And I’m so hopeful for what is to come.

life

27 1/2 Hours

A Graceful Catastrophe

As I write these words, I’ve been awake for the last 27 and a half hours. I’m tired, but feel more alert right now than I did a few hours ago. At 2:45 am, my alarm woke me up in Greece. It was the last sound I wanted to hear and gave me an emotional start to the day, knowing I was leaving behind the most incredible country filled with equally wonderful people. Though leaving everything I came to love about Greece behind, I at least got to bring back with me my memories from a trip of a lifetime and sooo many pictures. (On that note, check out theatlasroamers.com and book a photography trip with them. As you can read here, they’re so much more than a photography workshop, as Billy says, they are an “open school.” You’ll walk away with so much more than photography skills. I know I did.)

All day, from Athens to Amsterdam to Salt Lake City, then finally to home, I had a lot of time to think. And think. Then process and think some more. And then I came home and had a conversation with a friend, causing me to pause and really analyze the massive changes occurring within.

And then it finally clicked. The person I once was lacked confidence and looked to others to show her that she was valuable. But, lovely irony here, others valued me only exactly to the extent that I showed them I was worth. And I didn’t think I was worth much. So, of course my ex did what he did. And of course others have treated me as a doll on a shelf, to be taken down and given attention only at their convenience. That was all I thought I was worthy of – their actions matched the energy I put out.

How could I expect to be cared for and truly respected when I wasn’t caring for nor truly respecting myself? And, boy, do I love to make excuses for other people and their actions – too busy with ______, too stressed about ______ , too tired because ______ , or lashing out because their hangry. Their behavior was never because they just didn’t care. *facepalm* Look. If someone values you, they’ll show it. They’ll make the time for you because, in their eyes, you’re worth it.

You know, it has really *finally* sunk in that so much of who I was for a long time was rooted in not believing in myself. I tried so hard to convince myself of all the things that I wanted desperately to believe were true. I behaved with this frantic urgency, as it turns out (this post explains this behavior more), because I was trying to prove something to myself. If I did it, then I was good enough. I was enough. So I did all the things. So many of my decisions over the last few months came from the intense insecurity that came from years of being told by my ex that I was awful. And that no matter what I did, I was never enough for him.

My solo trip to Greece was to prove to myself that I could do anything I wanted to on my own. That yes, I absolutely was an empowered and strong woman. But I was doing things outwardly to fix myself inwardly.

As I learned, it doesn’t quite work that way. It takes hard work and effort and more self-reflection than I ever imagined. The physical act of going to Greece was huge, indeed. But it was everything that happened there that reignited the fire within and helped me realize my worth. I think the epiphanies could’ve probably happened anywhere, really. At least, anywhere there could’ve been a quiet, solo escape, where I would’ve had the opportunity to feel truly vulnerable and live in that space for a while. We should all experience that feeling. I’ve found that, at least for me, silence and vulnerability are huge for personal growth.

Conversations with my dear photographer friends helped, as well, as did the beauty and kindness of the perfect strangers I encountered on my travels. People are genuinely good. Well…let me re-word that. People genuinely have good intentions. Their follow-through, as I am learning, depends greatly on my very own energy. How I am being treated is exactly because that is what I am allowing to take place. People will live up to whatever bar you set for them, so if you set it low, don’t be surprised when their behavior matches that. Or, sometimes, they will leave your life. It’s that simple. And when they go, sad as it may be, I accept it as a pretty obvious message that my path is being cleared of the clutter that would’ve continued to hold me back and keep me from growing properly.

And if I frame it just right, then I get excited. Because within every transition lies an opportunity.

But it all takes time. Transitions are hard. Change can be massively difficult.

And also so incredibly worth it.

I wrote here, which was a few blogs ago, how I fell in love with myself while in Greece. I went a step further and made a commitment to myself. While walking along the streets of Athens, heading towards the Parliament building to watch the changing of the guards, I passed this cute little jewelry store. Something inside told me to slow down and to look at the display. When I did, several rings jumped out at me and I tried a few on. I felt like Goldilocks, eating the bears’ porridge. There was one I really liked and was pretty sure I’d be buying it. But then, when looking back at the display one last time, it was like all the angel voices sounded in my head. There was this ring. It was beautiful. I asked about it and she said it’s strictly a left-handed ring. I asked the sweet woman running the store what she meant by that. She said here, try it on. You’ll see.

And forget it. It was as though Cinderella had found her slipper! The other rings were too this or too that. This one, though? Absolute perfection. And how fitting that its place on a hand is the left ring finger. As I slipped it on, I made a commitment to myself that I would love myself truly and deeply from that point forward. In theory, that’s the exact practice I should put into place. In reality, it’s so, so very hard for me. For so long, I accommodated others, excusing their lousy behaviors, refusing to truly see them. Old habits die hard.

But, as in any commitment, it takes constant work, reflection, and daily, sometimes even hourly, re-commitment. As things come along my path, I’m committed to only move forth with the radiant and loving energy I now feel within.

And when somebody shows me who they are, I’m believing them, dammit. The first time. Even when I desperately don’t want to. Because that is true self-love.

life, love

Only the Beginning

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

This is Real Life

A Graceful Catastrophe

I’m not entirely sure what the “typical” or “normal” process is when trying to navigate life after catastrophe strikes. I just know what I’ve personally been experiencing and it makes me feel crazy. It feels like everything is extreme – the happiness I feel is just off the charts and wildly amazing and the sadness I feel makes me want to hide under my covers and never come out again.

I’ve drafted several blogs that I haven’t published, for a variety of reasons. Mostly, though, it’s because I just wanted to write and get it out of my head. Sometimes I worry that you will worry about me after reading my words.

I am okay. I will be okay.

And because I know this to be true about myself, I wanted to give you pieces of blogs I’ve written, just to show you exactly how all over the place my emotions are – and how quickly they change from moment to moment throughout the days and weeks.

Perhaps you’re dealing with your own stress and feel a bit “crazy,” too. Perhaps your feelings jump from one to the next to the next, from one extreme to the other, in a matter of hours – or even minutes.

You are not alone. You are not crazy. This is grief. This is real life.

The following draft was written 4 days ago:

Today was a really wonderful day. I woke up to a beautiful view, got an amazing workout in, worked a good bit, had a great doc appointment to try and get my leg issues/cramping under control so I can workout without pain again someday, and then got bonus time with my daughter in the evening. We went to listen to live music on the patio of a restaurant/bar with new friends, magnificent weather, and a perfect view of the mountains in the distance.

I sighed contentedly all day long. 

It wasn't until a little after 7 pm that I realized the date. And you know what? I smiled. Four months ago, I was set free. I didn't realize it then. And sometimes I forget it now. But my whole soul has shifted. I feel like a whole new woman and I feel so much lighter.

The biggest change that I keep coming back to is how unafraid I am. I have no fear of rejection or of being hurt and let down by another person. Literally none. I have no fear about going places by myself. In fact, there are many times where I'm quite excited to go to a bar or restaurant solo. 

I have met so many wonderful people. I have had conversations filled with substance. There have been many chats where I'm left chewing on the words for hours - and even days - afterwards. 

I have met couples that renew my faith in the possibility of love. I have met strangers that have treated me more kindly than I've been treated in years. And these strangers have quickly turned into friends. 

I'm reminded, almost daily, that people are good.

This was written just two days later, the night before last:

I wonder how long it'll be before I feel a sense of normality again. I wonder when my ex's words will stop hurting. I wonder how long it'll take before I stop internalizing the garbage he spews at me. I wonder how long before I can stop letting him get to me. I wonder when my emotions will stop fluctuating from the highest highs to the lowest lows. 

I wonder when my eyes will stop being puffy from crying so much.

I wonder why, after 124 days, I still feel every minute detail of this pain.

I wonder when it will all stop feeling so heavy.

And then it occurs to me why it's all so dark. Actually, a friend pointed this out to me today. The awful part of our marriage, the incessant emotional abuse, hasn't stopped. And I can't block him from contacting me because he needs to be able to get in touch with me in case of an emergency with our daughter. 

Our daughter. 

The one that is around when he lashes out at me. The one that is there to hear all the ugliness spewing from his mouth. The one that, according to him, should hear it all because she should know "these things" about her mother.

So now I'm worried. The psychological and emotional trauma I have received over the last 6 or so years is not only being witnessed by our daughter, she's now on the receiving end of it, also.

I had to tell her that when daddy talks to mommy, she needs to plug her ears and go away.

Why do I have to say that to my daughter?!

I wonder...when will this all end? When will he leave me alone? I'm not his to attack anymore. 

Well, I never was, but I allowed it for so long that it's now a natural way of treating me.

I no longer know what to do. 

I'm sick of living in the dark.

The ups and the downs are constant. I spent most of lunch with a friend the other day crying. In public. Tears streaming down my face, shamelessly.

Because this is real life. People cry. They hurt and they feel pain. And they laugh through the tears and they get up every morning and brush their teeth and start their day, so they can hopefully catch a glimpse of joy during the day. Or hit the jackpot and have a banner day.

Like I did yesterday.

It seems as though so much of living used to intimidate me. Or maybe it was that I felt like I had to be this ultra responsible, no nonsense person to offer a counter balance to the lack of boundaries and relative irresponsibility of my ex. Looking back, I think I felt stifled, like I couldn’t be free to really be me because I always had to be the “responsible one.” So then I became the boring one.

I don’t have to be that person anymore! I can be free to be spontaneous and truly live! I am doing things now that I never would’ve done before – like going to places alone, chatting it up with strangers, going to outdoor bars to listen to music by myself (well, my daughter was with, too), and joining a random group of strangers to hike up a mountain together for over 8 hours.

This wave I’m riding is wild and turbulent. I fluctuate from feeling like I’m doing a killer job surfing it and am nailing this whole living life thing to feeling like the wave is drowning me.

Yet, I’m still here, riding that wave. I refuse to give up. I refuse to allow it to keep me down. I will not drown in the sea of my tears. I’m hopeful this sea will calm eventually, that the wave will be something like you’d perhaps find in a kiddie pool rather than in the middle of an ocean during a storm…I’m hopeful.

Some days it’s a little harder to have hope, it’s a wisp floating by that is just out of touch. Other days, it’s this big, fluffy, beautiful entity that embraces me and I don’t have to worry about trying to chase it down.

The moments fluctuate – constantly. From the highest of highs to the lowest of lows. It’s almost impossible to process, which is why I write. It’s why I see my therapist. It’s why I break down at lunch with a friend and then keep crying so much throughout the day that my eyes are still puffy the next morning. It’s why I find extreme joy in the little things and can’t help but exclaim, “Wow!” over and over again when I see the beauty that surrounds me. It’s why I get out of bed, out of my house, and go away as often as I can – even if it’s for a walk.

I want a sense of normalcy again, whatever that is.

It’s been 126 days now. There are days where the emotional exhaustion from just living the moments and riding this volatile wave are so heavy, that I physically feel it to the point that it is difficult to walk upright. I literally lean on things to help me take another step.

And there are other days where I feel so buoyant and light and free that I feel like I could just float away into the bliss that surrounds me.

Then there are those days where both those feelings take turns, bouncing from pure radiant joy to utter misery, within hours of each other. (Those days are great fun! *rolls eyes*)

If I take a step back, however, I realize this is all just a side-effect of living. If we are to live, to sincerely and authentically invest in our souls and live to our fullest potential, we all experience a wide range of emotions – throughout our day, the week, the year. Perhaps it is all just a bit more intense now, due to the nature of this beast that has temporarily taken up residence in my space.

Yes, temporarily. Nothing is permanent. This wave I’m riding surely isn’t.

And thankfully, little by little, I’m realizing that I’m not actually living in the dark, though at times it may feel as though it’s impossible to see an inch in front of me. The good days, the beautiful moments, are slowly starting to outshine the shadowy gloom. I’m carrying a flashlight that’s ready to illuminate my world in a wondrous glow.

I just have to remember to turn it on.

life, love

Exit 147

A Graceful Catastrophe

Exit 147. Race Rd.

This particular exit has represented a nightmare for almost 21 years. Every single time I’ve driven past it, I get a physical reaction – my heart races, my palms get sweaty, and I have to distract myself so that I don’t really look at it.

Well, that was before this past Sunday. On Sunday, this was the exit we had to take to my sprint triathlon. There was no more avoiding it, after almost 21 years of successfully doing so. After almost 21 years of never taking that exit.

And just like that, there was nothing I could do, it was time to face it.

Let’s rewind for just a minute. It’s December, 2007. A prominent light bulb in my house was out and my husband at the time (this was husband #1) had just left, like, a day or two before and was going to be out of town for the next two weeks. I needed this light bulb. I begged him, with real tears and real fear, to come back and change it…because I had deemed myself incapable. I was incapable of that and so much more.

He couldn’t come back – of course! So, after a few days, I finally went out to the garage, grabbed the ladder, then found the extra light bulbs, climbed to the top of the ladder, unscrewed the old bulb, and put in the new one. And then lost my ever loving mind. In a good way.

It took me just about a full 10 years to move past the trauma that occurred off Exit 147. And all it took was me changing a light bulb. Seriously. The light literally turned on and it figuratively filled my soul, finally releasing the darkness that had suppressed me for so long. I cried, at the top of that ladder, broken light bulb in hand.

My life turned a sharp corner after that. Switching out that one light bulb was monumental.

Such a small act, with such a significant impact. It was truly life changing. And I was blindsided by it.

You never know when something seemingly insignificant rocks the boat so severely that you wash ashore a changed person.

So, now here we are, back to June 23, 2019. Taking that same exit to my tri that I’d successfully avoided for over 2 decades, driving down that same road…such a small and ordinary act, right?

But now, I get to redefine what that exit means to me. It now symbolizes strength, empowerment, conquering of fears…and the best one – delight.

I am strong.

I will rise up.

I have overcome significant trauma before. I have woken up from a nightmare before, stronger, wiser, and happier. I can, and will, again.

Mindset is absolutely everything. I am allowed to define and redefine what certain things symbolize. I am allowed to define and redefine who I am. I am allowed to change and ride the wave and see just where it takes me. I give myself permission for all of that.

Nothing feels insignificant to me right now. The universe feels as though it’s beckoning me into its depths. I feel energized, the spark igniting every cell of my being. It’s begging me to listen, showing me signs everywhere.

Like Exit 147.

I am not who I once was. I am not who I was 4 weeks ago. I feel as though I am so fluid right now, becoming a new me, making leaps and changes with every new sign shown to me.

I’m grateful my eyes are open. I’m even more thankful that my heart is, too.

On May 27th, I wrote a blog that was filled with bitterness and lacked hope. I never wanted to be vulnerable again. I didn’t want another man to have the opportunity to throw me away again. I didn’t want to ever love again – I didn’t think it was worth it.

Guys, I am 38 years old and today, I feel healthier than I have in a long time. I can’t be that hardened and jaded and bitter and angry. I won’t let such toxicity flourish within.

So, just as I can redefine Exit 147, I can redefine who I am, what I want, and what I’ll allow my heart to feel.

I want to feel loved again. Which means I have to allow myself to be vulnerable. While that evokes so much terror that it is almost crippling, I understand that, in order to live a fulfilled life, I have to be vulnerable. But perhaps, vulnerable with a grain of salt. It’s much more palatable that way. *wink*

I’ve learned a lot about myself in the last 100 days (I just can’t believe it’s been 100 days…) and some characteristics I have always had have been reaffirmed. I’ve never cared what others thought of me and still don’t. I’ve always only half listened to advice, picking and choosing what suits me best. I’ve been like that my whole life and I don’t see that part of me ever being redefined. I am quite confident in my brain and ability to *eventually* settle into a place that feels right within. While I have always known that about myself, I’ve discovered new things about who I am.

In these last 100 days, I have come full circle, I think. I am starting to settle in and things are feeling right within my soul. I’ve learned that, in times of high stress, I am not the one who reaches out and leans on others. I’ve learned that I’m much more apt to take flight than to fight. My skin has gotten thicker and I’ve learned to start embracing the dear Dalai Lama’s quote, “Do not let the behavior of others destroy your inner peace.”

It took me awhile to get to that last one. Like, 98 days…

But I think I’m getting my inner peace back. I no longer want to run away. I believe that I am strong enough to face my reality now. I am definitely strong enough to re-write and redefine my path.

Just as Exit 147 now symbolizes all things strength and beauty, the road ahead of me does as well. Perhaps it always has, it’s just that now I’m willing to see it.

life

The Phoenix Begins to Rise from her Ashes

A Graceful Catastrophe

I’ve been struggling a lot today. Well, for the last 2 weeks, really, but today especially. The weather is crap and that surely isn’t helping. My gym is closed on Sundays, so I didn’t get to workout, though I think I may go for a run when I’m done writing. Or go have a drink. A run is healthier but a drink sure is yummier! (*Update: I opted for a nap. It was quite lovely.*)

It all just feels so empty. And I feel so sad because of how afraid I am to connect – like, really connect – with someone ever again. The idea of a future like that, while super safe, just feels so lonely. And it’s just that I don’t know how I’d ever trust anyone again. I don’t want to let anyone in; I don’t see how it’s worth it to let my guard down and be vulnerable. But maybe that’s the only way to combat the emptiness…

So, are those my options? Have superficial fun, never get hurt, and feel a bit empty inside? Or let someone in and put myself at risk to feel extreme trauma and pain? Because to me, now, love is synonymous with pain. The two go hand in hand.

They always have. So why wouldn’t it always be that way?

Guys, I can’t ever feel like this again. This anguish and turmoil, this colossal, life and soul altering catastrophe that’s changed everything I once knew…this has to be a once in a lifetime thing, right? But there’s no guarantee to that. This could absolutely happen again. People cheat and lie. They betray. They are selfish and awful. They convince themselves that their awful behavior is justified in some way. And I’m not just talking about my ex. There is a ton of evidence that this is exactly what people do. It’s naive to believe otherwise.

But, one thing at a time, I suppose. There’s not a whole lot that matters past how I’m feeling today, right now. And, again, today sucks. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I just want it all to stop. Without really realizing it, I’ve buried my pain, for the most part, for the last 84 days. I ignored it and focused on being angry. But it’s getting harder to ignore. And it’s been far more noticeable at home.

My ex ended up getting the house and we told our daughter yesterday that she’d be living in two homes. Her response? “Eh, I knew this was coming.” That was it. She didn’t even care. She literally said, “Eh.” I mean, come on!

And I think I know why. It’s been so toxic in her home for the last 2 weeks that I think this was a welcome relief for her. I hope that it will be a welcome relief for me, too. Though I also think it’s going to force me to face my reality that I’ve been trying so hard to escape. And that scares me. I don’t know that I have the capacity to fully grasp the level of hurt that is in me. The few times that I have allowed this pain to surface – or, more accurately, that I haven’t had the emotional energy to keep it stifled – has been truly debilitating. It’s paralyzing. It makes me want to stay in bed and just shut my eyes to the world. I become this, ugh, I don’t even know how to describe it…but it just feels empty.

I feel empty.

In this moment, it feels as though I’m never going to be able to get past this betrayal. Every time I look at my ex, I see someone who massacred who I was. Right now, in this moment, I feel like his actions have forever changed me and in some ways, that’s a phenomenal thing and in others, it’s just a pretty terrible thing. I know that eventually I will be able to move past what he’s done to me. Time heals all wounds, doesn’t it? I also know that I can’t move past this until I can make sense of it all. And none of this makes sense. This level of pain that I have living in my heart just doesn’t make sense.

So, to be perfectly honest with you, now that I am going to have a significant amount of quiet time, I’m pretty nervous about it. I’m going to be forced to confront exactly what I’ve been trying to bury. I’m going to finally have to process this trauma. And I don’t know that I have the strength within to do so. It just feels like way, way too much. It’s layered and intertwined and invaded my soul. The shattered pieces are far too small to collect, much less put together.

But, as I write these words, I feel a spark within. If I can’t reuse the old pieces to reshape my life, why not mold new ones? I have an opportunity to reinvent bits of myself. I can use this catastrophe to catapult me into a new and wonderful space. One that only existed in my dreams. I can chase down those dreams, unafraid now, because if I fail in my pursuit, it’ll still never feel even close to how I feel today. Tomorrow’s pain from life’s stumbles surely won’t compare to the utter destruction in my soul I have today.

So, perhaps my mindset needs to be that I now know the true “depths of despair” (thank you, dear Anne Shirley) and I can only go up from here.

Huh. I love writing. I literally am crying right now because I genuinely feel hope. I actually can tackle whatever life throws at me. Barring something horrible happening to my daughter (God forbid…), no failure in life would be worse to come back from than my current situation. If I can process this and figure out how to let my pain go, then I honestly feel like I could conquer anything.

I feel like something incredible just happened. I can see the phoenix beginning to rise from her ashes.

Perhaps I will be okay, after all.

It’s all about perspective, right? Today sucks. No doubt about it. And very little could make tomorrow suck worse than today.

So, time to stop wallowing in the suck. I can honor that this sucks. Of course it does. I can give myself grace to feel this pain – no, agony, really.

But I will not give myself permission to let this jade me. I’m making that decision right now. I refuse to let the bitter taste of this betrayal linger on my tongue for much longer.

I may not know what tomorrow holds, but perhaps one day I will believe in fairy tales again.

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

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.