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.
** I wrote this blog 2 days ago, on a note taking app on my phone, because I was staying in a remote village in northern Greece and had no WiFi to publish it. So, I updated it by striking through the original time references. **
Life is a journey. Duh.
Okay, fine. Sure. But, let’s explore that a minute. First, let’s define “journey.” Merriam Webster’s online dictionary says, “something suggesting travel or passage from one place to another.”
I’ve been saying, in my writing, that this has been a journey for me. I’ve been moving through time, my mindset passing from one stage to the next. So, sure, a journey. I’ve oftentimes referred to it as a roller coaster ride. Or to that of riding the wave. Today’s analogy is a bit different.
Eight months ago, I was drowning. I was doing everything and anything to keep the flood of emotions from bringing me down. It didn’t matter, though. For a while, they still did. And then, every now and then, I’d come up for a breath before being completely washed over by them again.
This phase lasted a really long time. Well, it felt like it, at least.
Then, after so much exhausting and draining hard work, I was finally ashore. I’d made it through the initial chaos. I thought I was in a great place then! I felt happier. I felt like everything was leveling out, in a way.
But, thanks to constant self-reflection, I realized that wasn’t quite right, either. I wasn’t quite on the other side of this whole catastrophe yet.
Today A couple days ago, I realized I’ve been living quite like a bull in a china shop this whole time. I just did. If I wanted it, I pursued it, bought it, did it, you fill in the verb. I thought I was this strong, empowered woman. Look at me!! I can do anything!
Well, yep. True. I am.
It just doesn’t mean that I should.
Oof. That was major today the other day. I physically felt the change in my being. Honestly. And that realization came from a moment with my photographers where, to be quite frank, my actions were entirely disrespectful. Though, obviously, completely unintentional. That doesn’t matter, though. I was still careless and thoughtless. Definitely not one of my best moments. *sigh* (That one is a self-reflective sigh, Billy, rather than a content one, but still good.)
While on this trip, I’ve learned more than I can even begin to process, I think. So, let’s just chat for a moment about what led up to this great epiphany.
Lesson of the day: Just because I can, doesn’t mean I should.
We all live life through our own lenses, further masked by our own unique filters.
The way we communicate – what is said and what is heard, passes through these first. The speaker delivers the message in a certain way based on personal history. The listener receives the information, interpreting, acknowledging, and responding based on their own backgrounds, without even realizing that is what is happening. (It’s truly a wonder how anyone effectively communicates!)
Let me explain, in detail, so you may understand. Today The other day, we visited a gorge. A gorgeous gorge, if you will. *wink* I was told to be careful.
Okay. Got it.
Well, my interpretation of being careful was slightly different than that of my cautious Greek guides. You see, there was this short wall, a deliberate divide between life and death. Of course, I wasn’t going to walk all along it, or even dangle my legs on the other side. That’d just be absurd! But, sitting on it felt perfectly safe. To me. I was steady. So I did it. Their definition, as it turns out, was for me to keep my feet firmly planted on life’s side, not balancing on the edge between life and death…as was mine. I’ve grown quite comfortable living in that space and didn’t think twice about it.
But here’s what got to me. I didn’t see their perspective. Never even thought about it. I knew what I felt comfortable with and went with that.
But I forgot a very important detail. It’s not all about me. While on this workshop, I am their responsibility. They are in charge of my safety. And I complicated that for them. Ugh.
I think that I had lived with such a healthy dose of fear for so long that when catastrophe struck my home…my heart, my pendulum swung to the extreme. If I can do it, I’m going to do it. And I can do anything. So…bull in a china shop.
Yeah, that’s not exactly the best philosophy. *facepalm*
Respecting another means meeting somebody where he or she is at, not where you think they should be. I needed this reminder today. And I appreciate the lesson.
Both Billy and Chris called me out on this, each in their own way. That’s so important. I find that I’m surrounding myself more and more with people who aren’t afraid of challenging me. Of holding me to a higher standard. Of calling me out, kindly and through thoughtful conversation, when my behavior needs checked.
I knew I was coming for a photography workshop…who knew I’d be walking away with such a meaningful lesson from them, too.
I got slightly chastised, in the kindest of ways, for disrespecting nature and boundaries. From my perspective, that was not my intention, of course. I’d never be outright disrespectful to such kindhearted individuals or to sweet Mother Nature. I didn’t see anything wrong with sitting on that wall – because I understood my boundaries and felt safe. However, in situations such as these, I’m learning that you should go with the least common denominator, so to speak. They were less comfortable, they’re in charge of my safety, they have a vastly different perspective based on their knowledge of what has taken place at that gorge (and plenty of tragedies have occurred there). I never took the time to look at it from their eyes. I lacked true compassion and understanding in that moment. And that makes me quite sad.
After today’s little reprimand (I mean, it wasn’t even a reprimand, really. Just that awareness was given.), I see things a bit differently. I feel that my pendulum is coming back towards center. Thankfully.
I learned, today yessssterday (B & C understand this… Okay, it wasn’t yesterday anymore, but I have to leave this one. *hahaha* ), that properly respecting another, even nature, is to consider a perspective other than your own. Sometimes, you have to switch your lens, look past the filter that’s masking your view, and take a moment to pause and really study what’s going on in front of you before acting.
The lessons just keep coming, and I think it’s because my spirit is truly open to it all. The peace within is growing exponentially.
And the more peace I get, the more inconsequential other aspects of my life become. The things that matter to me, right now in this moment, are: my daughter and her journey, rocking my business, really opening my heart and truly living with authentic grace, and my newfound love for solo travel.
There’s no bull there.
It’s time to calm it down. Just breathe through these moments. Sigh those happy, contented sighs that I do when all is right in my world (Because it’s all good.).
I’m not going to be a bull in a china shop any longer. Yes, of course I can do everything and anything I choose. But that’s not the point. The real lesson here is, I shouldn’t, despite the fact that I can.
It’s time to incorporate a little caution into my life. Embrace the pause. Consider the perspectives of those around me. Because they matter. Especially when I respect and love them. I don’t want to be in a position again where I inadvertently disrespect someone because I don’t even think to show compassion. If I slow down, just a smidge, I can really take a moment and think about how my actions will make another feel.
All I want is to add value in others’ lives. And it’s difficult to do that when you’re behaving like a bull in a china shop. One of the characteristics I find the most admirable is the ability to pause and utilize boundaries. When you’re teetering on the edge of life and death, literally and figuratively, it’s hard to consider anything other than your current situation. And that is totally valid. That space is but momentary. One shouldn’t linger there, I think. That’s far too volatile of a way of living. So, now that I am able to find that balance again, or at least head towards it, I can remember to take a nice breath and then enjoy the pause in that moment.
I suppose old habits die hard. Though I am no longer teetering, my feet aren’t quite firmly planted yet. They’re getting there, though. And as Maya Angelou said, “When you know better, you do better.”
And after these 6 magical days, I do know better.
This has been so much more than a photography workshop. I’m leaving with more than merely knowledge and skills from all the hands-on photography lessons from two absolutely incredibly talented photographers. I’ve learned how to take a proper landscape photo, and even how to take a killer pano, aaaaannnnnnddddd (*wink*) I’ve learned countless other priceless lessons.
This solo travel trip has also given me the realization that Greek is definitely the sexiest language I’ve ever heard spoken and my photographers have an incredible ability to lull me to sleep with their melodic and soothing conversation (I think I lasted 5 minutes on any given road trip before I was laying down and out cold for a nap). And after the daily Greek language lessons and immersion, I’m even walking away with a few phrases that I’ll be incorporating into my life back home (and will be learning more, for sure).
From meaningful life lessons and deep philosophical conversations, to daily Greek language lessons (I’ll figure out oxi one day!), and finally to even the tiniest of details like mastering the fine art of taking a proper sniff, as Billy says about their workshops, “We are an open school.”
And that is absolutely no exaggeration.
I can credit my Greeks with giving me the necessary info to change. I’m done living the frantic lifestyle of being a bull in a china shop. My spirit is at peace. I don’t need anymore bull in my life.
Now that I’ve decided to remove the bull filter, it’s so much easier to see that every moment in our lives is an opportunity to learn and, therefore, to grow. We just have to be willing to see it, reflect on it, and then put in the hard work.
There are some things that have now been firmly rooted in my being. Like the knowledge that I am strong, capable, and enough. And, more importantly, I now know that there is further strength in the restraint. Just because I can, doesn’t mean I should.
People say it all the time, the past creates the future, which is why we study history, right? So we, as a society, do not repeat the same mistakes of our ancestors.
But why don’t we choose to study our own histories? Like, dig in and really do some research, as though we’re trying to get our PhD in life. Because it’s hard? Come on…nothing worth it is ever easy or fast. Maybe it’s because we don’t know better.
I didn’t know better.
I feel like I’m now well on my way to earning that PhD, though. I’m exhausted. And oddly energized at the same time. I only have a Master’s Degree, but can fully recall the exhaustion and exhilaration of presenting my thesis. I can only imagine what it’s like to defend a dissertation…
Why am I exhausted and oddly energized? Well, if you’ve been reading from the beginning, you know that my life today is far different than it was 8 months ago. (And if you’re new here, feel free to go check it out. It’s been a wild ride!) So, where was I? Yes, 8 months ago, and a few hours ago, actually. At 6:08 pm on March 17, 2019, the world I knew ceased to exist. And, as it turns out, that’s a wonderful thing.
That catastrophic moment when I opened the email from one of the Ashley Madison lovelies my ex had been having an affair with forced me to spiral completely out of control and then, finally, to make a choice. Do I continue to allow my life to spiral or should I, at long last, face my reality.
I finally decided to face my reality and it has not been an easy journey. For months, this journey was anything but graceful. Though it has been priceless.
I am no longer the same woman I once was…not even close. So, who was I? Those truths are mine, for now. But I will tell you this – after some incredible amount of determination to improve my mental space, I traveled back in time to childhood and began my healing there.
What I discovered was that my childhood wounds were never taken care of properly. And then new wounds layered on top. And that continued for years. Decades, really.
All that strain and stress to my emotional self caused gaping holes that were never patched. I suppose I never quite realized they were even there to be patched. But those wounds shaped me moving forward. I was married the first time at 21 (was it really 21?!). After about a 4 month separation, I was in another committed relationship, this time with husband number 2.
Let’s take a moment to envision my emotional self as a bucket. I kept, up until, like, last week, expecting others to fill my bucket for me. Some tried. The problem, however, is that bucket was riddled with gaping holes, wounds from my past. So, any love I received, any good intention given, filled my bucket and then seeped right on out. I kept waiting for someone else to fill my bucket! Why couldn’t they make me feel as though I was enough? Why wasn’t I worthy of being treated with respect? Both husband #1 and husband #2 were verbally abusive. Both beat me down with their words. I never had any physical scars, but the emotional ones created more holes in my bucket.
If you have something that you view as garbage, how do you treat it? How do you expect others to treat it? For a very long time, for far too long, I looked at myself as garbage. I wasn’t good enough. I battled an eating disorder on and off for a decade and tried to control what I could because there were far too many disappointing aspects of myself that I couldn’t control. I was not fond of myself. I treated myself like garbage with my thoughts and internal dialogue.
Yet, I expected others to treat me differently?! Ridiculous. If I think something is garbage, it’s quite unlikely that anyone else will see any value in it. Ugh, it feels so obvious now. *facepalm*
So, there I was, with a leaky bucket, all wounded and hoping others would come along with a patch kit for me. And now here I am, a month and a half away from 39, and I finally get it.
I have to put on my own patches, radiant and sturdy ones, to plug all of those holes. But first, I have to take the time to carefully find each and every single hole. So, with so much work on myself, I am finding them, one at a time, and I am lovingly patching over my broken bucket.
I feel, now, that I’ve covered most of my holes. Let me be completely clear about this, though. It has been 8 months of losing my mind to find this space within. I’m pretty much constantly in a state of emotional exhaustion. Self-reflection, intensely studying my history, asking myself the hard questions and then journaling about it, doing all the things that has felt right for me, has been emotionally taxing. And fabulously liberating.
With so much self-love and care, my holes are mostly patched and I’m beginning to fill my own bucket. I am not garbage. I am strong. I am capable. And I am enough. I know that. I’ve proven it to myself and, as they say, the proof is in the pudding.
I traveled abroad, by myself, to meet 2 strangers I met on Instagram. They are incredible photographers, which is how I stumbled across one of their pages, and then decided to send him a message. To my utter surprise, he answered. And we began communicating with frequency. I mean, really, it was practically daily. His passion for photography was contagious and his knowledge vast. Just 12 days after I first reached out to him, I decided to go on a private photography tour with him and his business partner and I think it was that day that I booked my tickets to Greece. I don’t quite remember – it all happened very fast.
That moment that I purchased the tickets, in and of itself, was HUGE! I remember feeling pure,boundless joy. In my head, I placed a lot of weight on this trip. It was to be the symbol of my soul’s restoration to peace. A reawakening. A message to myself (and my daughter) that I can, in fact, do whatever I want to do. I am fully capable of doing all things without a man by my side.
The day I left for this epic journey, I was a mess. I should’ve cancelled my morning, as living like a proper adult was rather difficult while in that head space. But, I am an adult and there were things that needed to be done. So, I rushed about to do them. And promptly got a speeding ticket.
When I got to work, the mom and daughter opened the door, and then I immediately started to cry. They were standing there, waiting for me, with gifts to celebrate my one year anniversary of working for them. I spent most of my session crying to these beautiful people.
And then I talked both ears off my dear friend, who’d offered to drive me to the airport. It’s at least an hour and 20 minute drive. I think she maybe said 2 sentences.
Once I was all checked in, I had time to squeeze in one margarita. As I took my first sip, I smiled, and the sighed, contentedly. The woman sitting next to me noticed and made a comment. We both laughed and shortly, were engaged in conversation. I explained to her where I was going – and why. And cried again, of course.
There was a married business man sitting next to me. He had no choice but to listen to my story as I chatted with the sweet lady next to me, as he finished up both his meal and what appeared to be some work. As he got up to leave, he looked me in the eye and said, simply, “Feel better,” and after I said thank you, he left. When I finished my margarita, I went to pay the bill. The bartender told me that it’d been paid for by the gentleman sitting to my right. The “feel better” guy. I completely lost my shit right then and there. Like, full on ugly cried. I was sobbing in a bar at the airport.
This is how I started my trip to Greece.
My head was scattered. Emotional. Anxious. I was a complete and utter wreck. I was doing something unlike anything I’d done for myself before. Alone. Could I do this on my own? No, wait… How could I do this on my own?!
But I did. I made it on my flight and settled in my seat. I made my two connections, landed in Athens, and waited for the cab that was supposed to get me. I found myself in the wrong part of the airport and a kind Greek gentleman told me where I was supposed to go. I contacted my photographer friend I came to Greece to meet and do the tour with and he spoke with my cab driver, making sure he knew where to take me. I got to the bus station, bought my bus fare, ate a Greek pastry, and made it on the right bus. I rode that bus for what seemed like forever, but it was only about 4 hours, then got in a taxi to take me to my hotel, where I checked in and made my way to my room. I contacted my photographer friend that I was there, safely.
I did all of that. Yes, with the help of others, but on my own. I made it from Denver to Athens safely and with nothing lost or left behind (though I did almost forget my suitcase on the bus… *eyeroll*). I am so used to someone double checking things for me that I wasn’t sure I’d be capable of any of this on my own.
Yet, I’m here. I’m still in Greece, in the middle of my photography tour, with 2 of the most wonderful humans I could’ve ever connected with. And they started as random strangers that I met through pretty pictures on instagram. (** Side note. Picture this. I wrote to one of them and told him that his pictures made me want to go there and see it all in person. Today, I saw through his lens, literally and figuratively, as I took my own pictures in the exact locations his pictures portrayed. Actively live life and things will happen that will blow your mind! **)
I took a risk. Somehow, I was able to force myself to take that risk, realizing I’d never prove to myself that I was “enough” of anything until I actually did something of some great magnitude. And now it’s paying off in ways I probably still don’t even realize. I have been in Greece for only 3 full days. I still have 4 full days to go.
And I’ve already fallen in love. Completely. Madly. Wildly.
I’ve fallen in love in Greece…with myself.
My bucket’s patches are holding strong – for now. Of course it’s a patch job, so there will be leaks and cracks that are bound to occur. Which is why this, proper self-care, is now a lifelong act. I cannot ever expect anyone else to make me feel as though I am enough. I have to believe it first for myself. I have to see my worth.I have to know that I am priceless.
And I do. Every single day is magical. Every day I have a choice to talk to myself rather than to simply listen to the old messages. Well, those messages? They’re being erased and replaced with a mantra I now tell myself throughout the day. The words are positive and reflect strength. They are superbly healing. My conversations within are filled with light and love for myself. When I begin to doubt, or self-criticize, or feel unworthy, I switch to my mantra and repeat it until I feel it burning true in my soul.
I am strong. I am capable. I am enough.
The more I say it, the more I believe it to be true. The more it becomes my internal message during times of doubt, stress, and hurt. No longer do I need to seek the attention from others to make me feel good and valued. It isn’t anyone else’s job to do that. Sure, do I like it when others make me feel good? Of course! Genuine compliments are beautiful and they make me smile. They make me feel all warm and fuzzy.
But I no longer depend on them. I see me.I see my worth. And you know what that means?
I am free. And I am happy. More so than I think I have ever felt in my entire adult life. The love and radiance in my heart and soul is pure bliss. So much, that I frequently find myself with a little smile on my face and then I sigh contentedly (much to one of my photographer’s unease *hehehe*).
All is good in this world of mine. And it just keeps on getting better. I am, quite honestly, now looking forward to this journey. Life is nothing but an adventure and I’m finally strong enough to see it that way.
So, if you find yourself struggling with your own self-worth, I would highly recommend you push out of your comfort zone – whatever that means to you. See what you’re actually capable of that you never thought you could do. Safely, obviously. Perhaps it’s sitting alone at a restaurant, enjoying a meal with only your own thoughts to keep you company. Perhaps it’s going to Target alone after dark. Those were both things I started with, both rather benign activities to some but that made my heart race and palms sweaty. Safely, with calculation, push yourself out of your comfort zone. Start small. Be smart about it. And then watch yourself grow and see where it leads.
I can promise you this, though: there is no better feeling than unconditionally loving yourself. You’ll be amazed with what follows when that finally happens. Tonight, I am sending my love to you all. May you feel it, understand how to create it from within, and go fall in love with yourself. And then keep doing so, throughout every moment of this marvelous life of yours.
You are strong. You are capable. You are enough. ❤️
Last night, my ex died. Not literally, though he is dead to me now. Any last hope I had that somewhere deep inside he’s a good person, is also dead.
Yesterday, I was served with papers from his lawyer stating he did not agree with the calculations ordered by the courts. He believed I was lying about my income and, therefore, is fighting me on support payments.
Here’s an interesting story for you.
Shortly after I started dating my ex, he was arrested for a DUI. He spent a night in jail, where I had to bail him out. He lost his job. He lost everything. And, while our relationship was still quite new at this point, I stood by his side. I lifted him up. I supported him in every single way a loving partner ought to have supported her significant other.
This DUI followed him for years. For quite some time, he had to take whatever crappy job he could, slowly working to build his career back up. We had our daughter and I managed teaching full time, taking care of every detail of managing a home and family, and raising our daughter, almost completely by myself. So that he could focus on rebuilding his career.
Today, he has a job where he makes over $10,800 each month (he actually texted me and corrected me on this) This month, I’ll make right around $800. I typically average right around $2000 per month.
In our divorce, I didn’t come after his retirement, though I could have. I didn’t come after him for many, many things I very well could have. I only requested to follow the court’scalculated support payments. The court agreed. And so did he, signing all the papers.
His income today is largely due to me – his girlfriend, then fiancée , then wife – supporting him, helping him rebuild the life he lost, through his own irresponsible actions. When we met, he was tens of thousands of dollars in debt. His credit score was embarrassing. He made extremely poor financial decisions.
I stood by his side. I helped him rebuild.
When he started punching me with his words, I still stood by his side. I helped him rebuild.
When he tells people “his side” of the story, he tells them how, y the end of our marriage, we had sex quite infrequently and that I rarely kissed him.
This is fact. I do not deny losing passion for him.
He treated me like garbage. Why would I choose to be intimate with somebody who spent much of his time insulting me? See, what people don’t know is that while I was fighting an extremely debilitating illness that gave me chronic fatigue and incredible pain, while teaching full time (where I had four preps – if you’re a teacher, you understand what that workload looks like), while managing the home, while raising our daughter, all with as much of a smile on my face as I could muster, he was out, building his career.
That was his focus. And I supported him.
Well, that, and treating me like garbage the next day for falling asleep with our daughter while putting her to bed rather than spend time in the evening with him. Falling asleep was never a choice. And I dealt with immense guilt for not having the ability to stay awake and spend time with him.
Rather than be compassionate and understanding, however, he would attack me first thing in the morning the next day, serving up an onslaught of words that felt like punches to the gut. His words were so ugly that they literally affected me physically.
And then, another new day started – again.
Where everything was repeated.
This happened for years and years.
I came to believe that I was not enough. I was not worthy. No matter what efforts I attempted to put forth, they were laughed at because, in his eyes, it wasn’t ever enough. To him, I showed no effort. He only saw what he wanted to.
Meanwhile, I was his punching bag and still tried to be a good wife, taking care of everything I could so that he could focus on rebuilding his career.
I took the almost daily verbal and emotional abuse. Why? I have no idea. Guilt, I guess. And believing I deserved it. If I could’ve been healthy enough to be a good wife, then he wouldn’t have had to be so angry towards me. If he could still be living in Florida, he wouldn’t have to be so resentful towards me, slinging his anger at me like daggers cutting through my heart.
We tried marriage counseling. The therapist tried outlining to my ex why I was who I was in our marriage. For a minute, I thought he got it…he didn’t.
I finally found a doctor who listened to me. After exploratory surgery, it was found that I had one of the worst cases of endometriosis he had ever seen. And he was not a young doctor. We decided to do a less invasive surgery, one where the doctor predicted I’d be healthy and good to go for approximately the next 3 years.
I felt great for about 3 months before all my previous symptoms started to come back. I dealt with them, getting progressively sicker for the next 3 or so months. In June, I went back to my doctor, because I just couldn’t take it anymore.
Everything with my endo was so severe, that I was scheduled for a hysterectomy just 6 days later. During surgery, it was discovered that my appendix was so diseased that the doctor was in shock that it hadn’t ruptured. I had an emergency appendectomy, too.
After surgery, I didn’t take any pain medicine. Once the pain meds from the surgery wore off, I didn’t take anymore again – for days.
The pain from that surgery was less than the chronic pain I’d been dealing with for the previous 5 or so years. So much less that I actually drove myself home from my hysterectomy and was hiking (miles) in Utah (on a family camping trip) just 11 days later.
This was a little over 2 years ago. That was also less than 1 year before my ex decided cheating on my was the way to go. Our marriage was shit from years of stress, years of beating me down for not being good enough, and he gave it less than one year after I was finally healthy to try to work on us.
He never worked on us.
Three or so months after he started cheating on me (unbeknownst to me), we went on a “beautiful family vacation” to Anguilla. There are a lot of Europeans who vacation in Anguilla and one woman’s standard of beach attire was much different than mine.
I knew my ex was watching her every move that day. What I didn’t know was that when he took a picture of his daughter and I, it was actually a picture of this beautiful, naked woman who was standing in the background.
He had such little respect for me that he didn’t even realize this was a dirty and disrespectful thing to do. When we came home, we went on a camping trip with a friend of mine and her family. We started talking about our trip to Anguilla and my ex asked the husband, “Hey, do you want to see a picture of my beautiful family on the beach?” He, laughing quite jovially, pulled up the picture, and then zoomed in to the real focus, of the naked woman in the background.
Guys, this was my life.Disrespecting me daily, womanizing, devaluing, and de-emphasizing my worth.
We were together for almost 11 years.
Recently I found an old journal with an entry dated approximately 4 months into our relationship. The first sentence is, “The words you just said to me stung as though you just smacked me across the face.”
When he shares his side of the the story, where I didn’t show him physical attention, please understand my side, too. For our entire relationship, I supported him so that he could rebuild his life professionally, all while managing the home and raising our daughter, teaching, and, for at least the last 6 years of our marriage, dealing with a chronic illness so severe that the pain 24 hours post major surgery felt like a literal walk in the most beautiful park.
When he hired a lawyer to contradict the court’s decision on support payments, he finally died to me. I finally see him for exactly who he is. He never once valued me as a partner, oftentimes making derogatory remarks regarding my teacher’s salary, amongst other things, and chose to focus on the fact that I didn’t take care of his physical needs.
Day after day, year after year, I was reminded that I was not enough. I was treated like garbage. I was reminded that I was an awful wife, almost daily, for the vast majority of our relationship.
And yet, I supported him so that he could rebuild. I took care of every detail so he didn’t have to worry about anything outside of building his professional life again. And I did so, for the most part, with a smile on my face.
He chose to end our marriage by cheating on me with random women across the country, then coming home on the weekends to remind me just how awful of a wife I was, and sit in therapy sessions that he later told his mistresses all about. He chose to stop working on our marriage less than one year after I was finally healthy.
Through sickness and health were not vows he embraced. Looking back, what he showed me was not love. And if I were gracious enough to define it as such, it surely was not unconditional love. He only treated me well when he was on the receiving end of physical attention. I was barely a human to him, much less a valued partner.
And he’s showing me that again.
I am not valued.
My efforts in managing all the details in order to support him from being in a position of being in jail and losing everything to where he now makes well over $10,000 per month (oh, and that does not include any bonuses he will be receiving), is non-existent to him.
He threw this family away. He threw me away. And he continues to devalue me.
Well, I am a changed woman and will no longer give him the power and control it takes to feel devalued. Sure, last night when I received the letter from his lawyer, I lost my ever loving mind. I was betrayed once again. His actions showing me that all he does is purposely hurt and destroy others – even the woman that helped to bring him to where he is today.
So, he’s dead. His actions will no longer have any impact on me. He is completely inconsequential to my life. I agreed to his lawyer’s request, following the court mandated amounts, because he is not worth any more effort. I could absolutely hire my own lawyer and make out like a bandit, as my documentation supports a lower amount than what I even thought I made. I could probably also sue him for the emotional and verbal abuse. I could hurt him financially to where he would regret his decision to hire this lawyer of his.
I could.
But that would mean putting energy into a human that no longer exists to me.
So I won’t.
Entitled? Call it what you will. I earned that money, too. He would not have the opportunity he currently has if it weren’t for me and my support over the last 11 years. I worked hard for the income and it is just as much mine as it is his. I know my value and fully understand it, even if he doesn’t. He won’t. He never did.
So, this is the last is the energy I will give to a man that is now dead to me.
Because my ex died last night. And I am finally released from any hope of the person I thought he could be. Because he doesn’t exist to me anymore.
When a person dies, he can’t hurt you anymore. I am finally free.
No truer truth has been spoken to me in recent months.
Seriously. I hate it. How did I get here???
I see my daughter every other week. I get the equivalent of about 4.5 more years with her before she goes off to college. And that’s being generous.
I am traveling out of the country next week and spent the day trying to figure out how to not come home.
Because I don’t want to be around family. At. All. If I can’t have my daughter, I don’t want to be around anyone’s family.
I don’t want to be around happiness.
Not during Thanksgiving.
Sure. I have plenty to be grateful for…of course!
I’d be fine seeing single people filled with gratitude. And spending my time with those single people.
But absolutely no happy families. Because I don’t have a happy family.
So, I think I’ve decided to road trip. Just so I can avoid my life a little bit longer. Because I really hate this reality.
Today has been a struggle. All day long. I woke up upset. I cried during my workouts. I cried in between them. I cried when I came home from them. Then I had to pull it together so I could work.
And thank goodness I love what I do and who I spend my time with while at work. Because they made all the difference today.
But then, I had to come home…
And I remembered that I hate my life.
I’ll be 39 next month.
This isn’t where I’m supposed to be.
At least, not personally. Professionally, things are wonderful. I’m grateful for how I get to earn a living. I’ve never been happier, professionally speaking, than I am right now.
But personally? Ugh. Disgusting.
I’m ashamed of myself.
Truly.
Well, I wrote this Monday night, after a pretty terrible day where I was all up in my head and my feels. And, to be perfectly honest, after consuming a hefty-sized margarita.
Rather than erase/edit it heavily, I’m leaving it.
Guys, I am not as strong as I seem. I have my moments. I have entire days! I cried during my morning workouts Monday morning (feel free to check out my Instagram, where I made a brutally honest post). All of these emotions are exhausting to process – still. The roller coaster isn’t as wild and extreme as it once was, and I’m ever so grateful for that! Yet, I’m still on it. It’s still quite the ride. I’ve learned, over time, that when I’m not living with complete honesty – to myself and those around me – my days are much harder.
I have much more anxiety. I binge eat, and then feel terrible (at one point, I was up almost 20 pounds from 2 months ago. I’m dropping it back down, and doing so in a healthy manner). I pick at my cuticles (my M.O. for when I’m way too stressed to handle life). I don’t sleep.
When I’m living a dishonest life, one that lacks authenticity, it really messes with me – mentally and physically.
So, that means I have honest conversations with myself. Seriously. I look at myself in the mirror and ask myself, “What the hell are you doing?!” I also don’t tiptoe around others anymore. Not around strangers and not those closest to me.
This is me. I say how I’m feeling. I can’t – and won’t – hide my tears. Even though I want to run away, I refuse to hide.
People have told me that they gain strength from these blogs and from me. Every time I’m grateful, though I’m mostly shocked. I am not that strong. I’m exhausted. I want to run away. I AM running away. And lately, I feel like I sell out a bit of my soul for tiny moments of pure happiness, that come only when it’s convenient. But, for right now at least, I’ve decided that I want to feel that happiness – at any cost.
So, the roller coaster continues. Life’s imbalances continue. My emotions vary from day to day, week to week.
And then, I remember.
Just breathe, girlie. You’ve got this.
Bring it back to this moment right now. And then inhale slowly. And let it out…let it all out.
I did the incline yesterday morning. It’s like my form of meditating. It gets my mind right almost every single time – that workout rarely fails me.
Tuesday, November 5, 2019
What it does for me is so amazing. It’s transformative. And, it hit me, this journey is incredibly symbolic to life. I think that’s why I feel so wonderful every time, after I’ve completed it. It shifts my perspective. The incline is a perfect symbol of how to do life. You tackle this beast one step at a time, sometimes having to tread slowly and carefully, other times throwing caution to the wind so you can hustle to make your goal, and other times you find yourself crawling on all fours because you’re not sure how exactly you’ll make it to your next breath, much less your next step.
But you do! And then, you’re at the top, realizing it wasn’t as bad as it seems – it never is.
Sure, I mean, it’s been plenty bad. I’ve had moments in my life where I’ve felt hopeless, terrible desperation, and everything has just felt pointless. I can think back to specific times where I’ve just wanted to throw in the towel, so to speak, because the thought of doing anything else was simply too exhausting.
I have felt completely and utterly defeated.
There have been some dreadfully dramatic moments where I have cried, laying flat on the floor, face buried in my arms, until a puddle of my own tears formed beneath me.
And then, I breathe through it and another day comes. Because, really, I refuse to succumb to any other choice. For me, there is no other option other than to keep getting back up, no matter how badly I’ve gotten knocked down. Thankfully, I am surrounded by an incredibly strong and positive community, who oftentimes have done the heavy lifting and have picked me back up.
So, one way or another, I’ve always gotten back up.
And every single time, I’m able to stand a bit taller. I feel a bit stronger.
Then, I check in, reminding and reassuring myself that I am, indeed, strong. That I am “enough.” This is so new to me – to believe that I am “enough.” I want to make sure I now continue to realize that I am. Which means I must be aware so that I don’t fall into old habits.
Like I did Monday.
So, I am choosing to create these new habits. Ones where I remind myself who I am. And I keep myself honest, by self-reflecting regularly and asking myself the hard questions. Like, do my actions reflect a life being lived with authenticity? Do I tolerate nonsense because I don’t think I deserve better or is it because I’m choosing to give grace and be understanding? I’m almost constantly checking in with myself to make sure I understand my worth, that I continue to recognize my value. Then, I’m careful to not answer these self-imposed questions until I’m convinced the response I’m giving to myself is actually one I’m certain is the truth.
It takes work to battle my demons.
Yet, I’m finally realizing these demons I am fighting, the ones we all fight in whatever way they show themselves, are not signs of weaknesses. My greatest battles within – understanding my value and believing it, and giving myself grace – are what give me strength, in the long run. By continuously facing those demons head on, by writing them down publicly and not trying to hide them, by acknowledging out loud that I engage in these battles frequently, it reminds me I am human. And that I can use these broken moments to learn and grow.
I refuse to have a fixed mindset. Every single day I can become a better version of myself, if I choose to. Every time I acknowledge that my demons defeated me in certain moments, or for days, I am also acknowledging that I had the strength to face them and get back up again. I am reminded that it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was.
And that’s my big takeaway from being so in my head this last Monday. I was questioning myself, my integrity, my authenticity, my tolerance…everything, really. And I was beating myself up, refusing to give myself the grace that I deserve, and simply making “it” all bigger and worse in my head than what the reality of this life is.
It’s not as bad as it seemed on Monday. Life is good.
I actually love my life.
I’m beyond grateful for this journey.
Everything just is. Nothing is quite as bad as it seems. Nothing is quite as good as it seems either. No matter how we’re feeling, especially when we’re feeling the extremes, it’s all just so short-lived. The only thing certain is that it all will change. Everything is quite fleeting – situations, feelings, time…
So, I remind myself, once again, to breathe through the moments, especially those where my emotions feel extreme. Nothing lasts forever, at least not without constant effort to make it persist, and that’s true with both positives and negatives. What you feed is what will grow.
So, days like this past Monday will come and go. Days so much better than this last Monday will, too.
All I can do is continue to accept the journey, and breathe through all the moments. Because that’s all life is. Moments. And if we choose our focus correctly, they’re all good.
I wrote last night, about how I want to behave with grace towards my ex. And then, right there in that very blog (that I thankfully didn’t publish), I was not extending an ounce of it. All the proof was staring back at me, letters strewn across my computer screen, in black and white, about how I want to give grace, yet, in the very same paragraph, I was still bringing up the past. That isn’t giving grace. That is me holding on to my baggage, refusing to let it all go, allowing it to control me, and still playing the part of victim.
So, this post will hopefully be shorter. And if it’s not sweet, I’m not publishing this one either.
My ex noticed these shelves needed hung. So he came over and hung them for me. He also gave me an old drill of his (yes, it works) so I didn’t have to go buy one. He is a good person.
The world is exactly how we paint it. People are exactly how we choose to see them. For years, I chose to see my ex in a negative light, focusing in on anything he did that evoked a negative or anxious feeling. But he’s so much more than that. He’s funny. The life of a party. He can bring a smile to anyone’s face during any given moment. Last week, during our divorce hearing, he made the judge laugh. And he made me laugh, too.
Yesterday, my ex mentioned he wanted to make our daughter french toast for breakfast. This isn’t his week with her, though. Today, she had a snow day. I called him and asked if he wanted to come make her french toast at my house. So he did. He is a good person.
I’m done hating him. Everything that happened is in the past and I’m at the point where I can truly forgive him for it. And I can move forward. Finally.
Now that we’re divorced, the marriage “dissolved,” it doesn’t matter what he did. It doesn’t matter what we both did, leading up to it. On my death bed, I’m sure I won’t think about how angry, sad, hurt, etc I was at some point in my life. I’ll look back at my life, as a whole, and think how beautiful and filled with love it truly was. Because it is. I’m super lucky.
So, that’s what I am choosing to focus on.
I am loved.
My ex has a good soul.
I love myself today. More than I ever have in the entirety of my life. So I accept all the experiences that have made me who I am in this moment. I’m grateful for my ex, and more importantly, I’m grateful for every bit of our history.
So, here we are. I’m grateful for my experiences. I wouldn’t be the person I am today without having taken every single step on this journey. My path has been interesting. It’s been filled with so much pain. And in that pain, there has been incredible beauty. So, to me, now, at least, it’s all been worth it. So why not show some grace towards my ex for it?
I am not a victim of my circumstances. Things happened. For a while I let them break me. I’ve realized I’m better than that. This life is truly beautiful. So that is what I will choose to focus in on. And it’s definitely what I will project out into the universe. It’s time I turn this pain into something beautiful.
To be perfectly honest, though, giving grace sucks. It’s hard.
And it’s exactly what I want to do. For myself and my daughter. When this whole journey began, well over 7 months ago, my plan was to behave with class and grace. Well, that was quite impossible for me for way too long. I had zero desire to extend grace or to conduct myself with even an ounce of class. I had a long list of excuses and validations…but don’t we all?
So, here I am today. From deep within my heart, I want to live with grace, though that might be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. And I’m choosing to forgive. I’m letting it all go.
It’s time for me to truly move forward. The only way I can do that is to release the baggage I’ve been holding onto like my life has depended on it. I’m not a victim. I am strong. Valuable. Incredible. It’s time I begin to act like that, rather than continue to hang on to the hurt.
Because by hanging on to the hurt, I’m telling myself, and projecting to the world, that I deserve to be treated as nothing more than the broken individual that I am.
Well, screw that!
I am not broken. Shit happened. Shit happens to everyone.
It’s time to focus in on the good.
My ex is good. There’s beauty in my history. And giving grace is both challenging and rewarding.
I still cry. I still eat my feelings. I also wake up the next day and choose to smile. There’s plenty in my world to smile about and that’s where I’m finally deciding to focus.
Tonight I’ve cried a lot. I’m sure my eyes will betray me tomorrow. There’s a deep sadness in my heart for how I treated my ex over the last 6 or 7 years, and especially the last 7 or so months.
There’s not a whole lot I can do about any of that…except move forward in love, grace, and forgiveness (for both him and myself).
I’m letting everything go. And focusing on what truly matters. One breath at a time.
I am in control of this life. I am in control of my responses. I am in control of my choices.
And, while at times it truly does suck because it’s hard as hell, I am finally choosing to give grace. He deserves it. And my soul requires it.
A few days ago, I was talking with a friend that has this ability to call me out, saying all the difficult things that I need to hear, yet doing so in such a way that makes me pause, rather than defend (for the most part). I definitely don’t want to hear these observations, or answer the questions that inevitably follow, but, the truth of the matter is, in order to really grow, I must listen. And, in the kindest of ways, he makes me question all the things I thought to be true about not only me, but also my past.
After some hardcore self-reflection, I realized I have been a pretty shitty person to my ex. And not just in the last 7 months since I found out about his infidelity, but for years.
I lacked intention.
I lacked compassion and grace.
I reacted to his poor behavior, validating my response because I was a victim. A victim of all the things I’ve written about in previous blogs.
But, you know what? Just because somebody shits on you doesn’t mean you shit on them back. That’s just not being a good human. There’s no validating poor behavior. No matter what.
For my own reasons, I chose to treat my ex poorly. I withdrew. Any affection I’d had for him diminished day by day. I started to only see him in a negative light. I focused on all of his faults. And when I spoke to those closest to me, I complained about him. Incessantly. All I saw were the awful things about him. That was all I chose to see. So, naturally, I convinced myself that my poor behavior towards him was understandable. It was excusable. My awful behavior was valid.
Sure, we all know by now that he did not treat me well. However, I allowed myself to play the role of victim – for years. And have continued to do so for the last 7 months.
Was I a victim? Yep. Did it mean that I had to define myself as that? Nope. But I did. Unconsciously, sure, but I did. Right up until Friday night. Until my friend smacked me with that info.
Oof. That didn’t sit well with me at first. I immediately tried to protest. “But I only behaved that way because he…” No, no, no! That’s not okay. It was time for me to own my actions.
So I bit my tongue. Literally. And I sat there in silence, continuing to listen to what he was saying. I processed this info longer than anything else we talked about that night.
I lived in a place of constant hurt. And anger. And I held onto those emotions tighter with every breath I took.
And when someone’s words and actions constantly hurt, there are some defense mechanisms that have to be put into place for survival.
Or so I thought.
So, that’s what I did. I began to shut down. To be perfectly honest with myself, and, I suppose, you, my ex eventually ceased to exist to me. Over time, he wasn’t someone I fought for or tried to engage with. I loved him, and at the same time, I didn’t really care about him. And I gave myself all the valid reasons for my actions.
“Because he hurts me.”
“Because he doesn’t care about my feelings. Or my job. Or my day. Or (insert reason here).
“Because he doesn’t respect me.”
And guess what? It showed. It showed that he was an inconsequential human in my life.
He felt it.
I’m not sure which happened first. Did I shut down first or did he? Who shit on whom first?
Honestly, it doesn’t matter. We both turned away from one another. And we both convinced ourselves that it was okay. Because of that ugly place of being hurt. Both of us just wanted to feel love from the other. And neither of us was receiving it.
We were stuck in a negative loop so deeply entrenched in anger and hurt, stubbornness and frustration, that we both made decisions, some deliberate and intentional, others lacking complete intentionality, that drove a very solid wedge between us.
Let me be clear – hindsight is 20/20. In the moment, I never saw this. I actually didn’t see any of this until that conversation a few days ago. But the very ugly truth is that, over time, I came to care so little about him, and his feelings, that I would live my life with absolutely zero regard towards how my actions would affect him. He became insignificant and unimportant in my life.
Guys, we were married. I was his wife. And, though it was unintentional, I was, at the very least, a big giant jerk to him and at the very most, an astonishingly cold-hearted and inconsiderate human.
Just because it was unintentional doesn’t make it okay. Sure, I didn’t set out in the morning, when I opened my eyes, and plan how I was going to hurt him that day. I also didn’t set out that morning, when I opened my eyes, and plan how I would fill his life with happiness that day.
Truly loving somebody else is placing their happiness above your own. Seeing them happy should make you happy.
I didn’t care about his happiness. Because he didn’t care about mine.
Goodness, how wrong that thinking is!
Look at what it did, the outcome of that thought process…and to so many lives.
For the last 7 months, and for years before that, even if I thought that perhaps my actions could hurt him, I didn’t care. If it was something I wanted to do, I’d do it. His reaction to my actions weren’t my fault.
But, in a lot of ways, they were.
It wasn’t that I would purposely do something to hurt him. I’m not consciously evil. It’s that I wouldn’t think twice and consider that my actions could perhaps hurt him. He was that inconsequential to me.
Ouch.
Time for this incredibly inconsiderate person to eat crow.
Should he have betrayed me for almost a year? Of course not. Is it my fault? Of course not.
Were we operating from a place of love towards one another? Of course not.
My happiness didn’t matter to him. His happiness didn’t matter to me. Neither one of us mattered to the other.
Again…ouch.
I see the wife I was to him. I see it now, at least. Operating from a place of hurt and anger is simply a terrible way to live. And just because his behavior was poor and it did cause me pain and damage, it still doesn’t excuse my shitty behavior. I’m a grown woman capable of making sound decisions. I’m intuitive and bright. I engage in self-reflection. Yet, I chose to play the role of victim and react with venom, adding to the toxic environment. And then I justified it.
Not anymore.
My friend encouraged me to try to finally forgive. And not just my ex. But to take an honest look at my role in this and then forgive myself. He told me that it was an absolutely essential step in my ability to move forward. In the moment of that conversation, I probably looked at him like he was crazy.
But you know what? He’s right. So I have. I am. I’ve already begun to let my hurt go. I’ve come to terms with all the circumstances that have ultimately brought me here, to today, and to writing this blog.
If I want to move forward and continue to grow, if I want to be a positive and loving example to my daughter, and if I want to have any chance at having a healthy relationship in the future, I have to be a good human. And I have to face the realities that, during my marriage and right up until this last Friday night, I was not. And I have to not only forgive him, but I have to forgive myself.
So today, I am at a place where I have hope. I have hope that we can be civil to one another. I have hope that we can respect one another. I have hope that we will be supportive and kind to our future new spouses. I have hope that, someday, all 4 of us will be incredible parents to our marvelous little girl.
I have hope that, from this day forward (or, at least, most of the days that will follow), I will make the daily choice to walk through this life with purposeful intention, acting from a place filled with grace, and of love, which is once again filling my heart.
Lately it’s been hard to feel fully present in my personal life. Professionally, I’m solid. Those kids have every ounce of my attention.
But personally…I don’t know. I feel tired. I’m so busy and all I do is run, it feels like. I run from one thing to another to another with everything scheduled right down to the minute.
And there’s so much noise in my head.
My thoughts are running full tilt. I want to live truly authentically, but damn, that’s really hard. I want to fully embrace Maya Angelou’s quote, “When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.”
But what if I don’t want to believe them? What if I want to see what I want to see? What if I know I’m making 34,000 excuses for them and their behavior?
Excuses. We all have them…
Goodness! It’s just So.Much.Noise.
It feels chaotic inside right now. I hear myself arguing with myself. I have contradictory thoughts all day long.
Sometimes I literally shake my head to try to clear it. No, really. I just did.
It doesn’t work.
I’m so tired.
I’ve been binge eating. And then I am left feeling simply dreadful.
And I feel so unsettled.
I need something to change things up…to give me a figurative shake. Nothing earth shattering like what happened 7 months ago now – oh, goodness, please nothing like that!
But… I do leave for Greece in 28 27 days. So there’s that.
I need that time. I’m craving this solo adventure more than ever.
I have hope that it will help to center me again. Because I need that. Desperately, at this point.
I feel like I’m sacrificing a piece of myself for an illusion of happiness. And…I just want to feel genuine happiness.
*sigh*
More importantly, I want to feel genuine.
It takes so much effort to be strong. Some of you know this all to well. It takes a ton of effort just to stay afloat. And then to run my business. Or to be a present and engaging mom.
Sometimes it feels as though I cannot breathe. So, all of this, and for so much more, I honestly can’t wait until I can run away. Just momentarily, though. I’ll be back, of course. My daughter is my world. My business fills my heart with joy. I just need a break.
Because…have I mentioned how loud it is in my head? It’s constant, guys. I feel at odds with myself, my actions, my thoughts…
This is not living authentically.
I feel like I’m barely hanging on right now.
Last night Two nights ago, I received a barrage of texts from my ex, blasting me for no reason, other than his own anger. It was completely unprovoked.
I’m still on edge from it.
Then it happened again tonight. Except this time, he decided to threaten both me and a friend of mine. It’s been 7 months. Seven months today, actually. When will his abuse stop?
And then there’s the big court date one week from today yesterday. We will stand before a judge for about 20 minutes and then become legally separated. Finally. 7 long months later. To be quite honest, I can’t wait for a judge to tell me that I can start putting this all behind me.
For now, though, I feel myself disconnecting. Retreating. Everything takes so much out of me. Friends call and I ignore their calls. I just can’t bring myself to engage in any lengthy conversation. Or try to summarize my thoughts. It’s just too much right now.
I wish I could fast forward to 10 years from now and take just a little peek at who I am. Who my daughter is. Man, I hope that she continues down this path that seems so incredible and bright.
I hope I don’t ruin her.
I know this sounds…umm, bleak, I suppose. I know it’s just part of the wave. I’m riding it – still. Perhaps I always will.
And guys, I still smile. It still reaches my eyes. I get excited and re-energized when I get to work with my kids. I am in love with my professional life and am grateful this is how I earn my living. My clients are nothing short of the best.
I have incredible people in my life who make me feel incredible things.
Overall, I am lucky.
Overall, the energy I put out is beautiful and, therefore, my life is beautiful.
And…I still have my days. I am still human. I still deal with threats and verbal and emotional abuse.
So, some days are exhausting.
And loud.
And oh, so terribly chaotic.
I suppose that’s the thing – life is noisy for all of us. But we all walk around, putting our best foot forward, showing our strongest side to the world. And because of that, nobody is vulnerable. So you feel devastatingly alone. The feeling of isolation is intense.
I know because that’s where I’ve been lately. I’ve been quiet, not writing in ages. Because, I guess, maybe for a while, I felt uncomfortable being so raw, so vulnerable. I was starting to drown again and to write about it made it too real. And I thought I was alone, in feeling like this.
I shared this (unfinished) blog with two people before I decided to finish it up tonight and publish it. They both said it resonated with them.
So, to write about it shows me that I am not alone in how I feel. Some of you also have a lot of noise in your heads that feels impossible to quiet. Some of you lead sharply scheduled lives, just like I do, running (literally) from “important thing” to “important thing.”
But are they all truly that important?
For a while, I got lost in the motions. There’s a song that a longtime friend shared with me a while ago and I can’t help but think of it now. It’s the song “Living,” by Dierks Bentley and the most impactful part of the song, to me is,
And it hit me It’s a beautiful world sometimes I don’t see so clear
Some days you just breathe in Just try to break even Sometimes your heart’s poundin’ out of your chest Sometimes it’s just beatin’ Some days you just forget What all you’ve been given Some days you just get by And some days you’re just alive
That’s it. Lately, I feel like I’ve just been getting by. I’m alive. I’m breathing. But I’m running through the motions.
Therefore, I am not satisfied. Not really. Deep down something feels off. So I go back to what I said earlier – I think I am not living authentically.
So what’s the first step? There’s so much chaos, I don’t really know where to begin! Do I take the time to create a process so that I can hire somebody and start expanding my business? Do I stare the fear of failure in its face and begin writing the first words of my book? And what do I do with the barrage of texts from my ex that hit me like a gut punch at random times when I least expect it?
I guess I just keep breathing. And remember this part of the same song,
Some days you start singin’ And you don’t need a reason Sometimes the world’s just right Your clear eyes ain’t even blinkin’ Got a heart full of grateful For all you’ve been given Some days you just get by Yeah some days you’re just alive Some days you’re livin’
Livin’ like you’ll never die Blue’s a little bluer up in the sky You’re high’s a little high You feel that fire you’ve been missin’ Some days you’re living
So, that’s where I end for today, I suppose. Focusing on gratitude. Because overall, life is pretty incredible. And I’m more than grateful for this journey, for placing me exactly where I am today.
Through the chaos and noise, I’m going to try to refocus my energy so that I can feel that fire that I’ve been missing lately.
Today, right now, I’m choosing to truly live. Again. I’m chasing that fire and am in hot pursuit of authenticity. Because living disingenuously just sucks way too much life out of me.
I’m done being merely alive. Today, I’m living. Who’s with me?!
Today’s writing is more of a musical journey – a glimpse into one of the many tools I’ve used to process, reflect, and grow since March. I’ve relied heavily on music to help me feel sane and less isolated over the last half a year and these songs have evoked incredible emotional responses, from breaking out in chills all over, to ugly crying, to fist pumping and cheering because I really am a strong woman, like the song’s lyrics tell me.
Lately I’ve wondered where my life would be without music. I don’t think there are many things in this world that offer the truly magnificent power that music does. It can calm the mind, make you smile and laugh, make you cry out of sadness or happiness, recall old loves and other such memories you’d thought were long forgotten, and it can make you feel as though you are able to accomplish absolutely anything.
Playing my piano is my “go-to” move when I’m stressed. I sit there and play until I can breathe properly again. When I’m driving, in the shower, exercising, hiking, or relaxing, I have my music on. But it’s not just any music lately. The songs I listen to are the ones I deeply connect with…the ones that align with where my mind, heart, and soul are in this moment.
You see, some friends recommended that I make a playlist way back at the beginning of this journey, which started over 6 months ago now. And how it has morphed over time is quite fascinating! The first several songs that were added to the playlist were pretty angry and bitter (think “Figures” by fellow Colombiana, Jessie Reyez, “God Damn Liar” by Dirty Heads, and “I Don’t F**k with You, by Big Sean and E-40).
Now, the playlist is beginning to fill with songs that reassure me of a great deal of things. Through songs like, “Outnumbered” by Dermot Kennedy, I am now convinced that love like I’ve never felt before could, in fact, exist and someone is out there that will make me feel adored, empowered, valued, and worthy of that incredible love through his actions. And with songs like “Hero” by Christina Perri, I am reminded that even if that’s not in my cards, I am now a strong woman who doesn’t need it in order to feel happy.
And I am. I am a strong woman now. Stronger than I ever was before. I feel myself getting stronger every single day. And for, I think, the very first time in my life, I truly love myself.
Goodness, that’s both so powerful – and so difficult – for me to write. It makes me cry to actually put it down in black and white for you to read.
Up until quite recently, I didn’t love myself. Hell, a good portion of the time, I didn’t even like myself. If you could’ve heard the way I spoke to myself in my own head, I’m sure you would’ve been shocked.I was insecure and sad and looked upon myself with unkind eyes.I tried, oftentimes quite successfully, to portray a strong, independent woman. But I was not living in public how I felt in my head. There was a lot of “fake it ’till you make it” going on. I was really good at playing the part I thought I was supposed to – and it was exhausting.I felt like a fraud.
So these tears? They’re hard earned. And they are made with a mixture of both great sadness and pure joy. It makes me terribly sad that I’ve lost so many years beating myself up and believing the negativity that was spewed at me. And I’m also thrilled that I’ve figured it out – I finally see that I am worthy of all things wonderful and beautiful. I understand that other people’s actions and reactions have little (or nothing) to do with me. Do you know just how freeing that is?! It is an incredibly impressive feeling, to truly love oneself, this whole perfectly imperfect wonderful being that I am.
So what does it look like to genuinely have love for yourself? I’ll tell you what it means to me… Loving myself is:
to feel secure and confident enough that I am free to be vulnerable,
to have a complete disregard for any potential pain or sadness, simply because I’d rather experience the joy in this moment that I know I deserve, and am comfortable enough to know that I can overcome that pain/sadness if it does come around,
to live entirely authentically, because I now know that I am strong enough, and I finally value myself enough, that I can, and will, overcome any hurt that might come my way,
to be sofearless and empowered that I am taking a solo trip to the other side of the world, destroying the idea in my head that I am not strong enough or capable enough to travel alone, because I now know that I am plenty enough of both of those things,
to have a defined bar and understanding of how I want to be treated in a relationship and to come to the conclusion that I’d rather be single, surrounded by my incredible community of friends, than to ever settle for feeling less than I deserve, because I now know that I am worth it and more than enough, and have no problems walking away if my partner doesn’t see that,
to finally, and wholeheartedly, believe that I am enough.
I heard a song the other day, called “Worth It” by Danielle Bradbery that spoke to that last point. Her song, these lyrics…it’s just everything to me right now. I needed this reminder, especially today.
‘Cause I’m worth it You’re crazy baby if you think that I don’t know it I ain’t afraid to walk away if you can’t see it, believe it And give me the love I’m deserving ‘Cause I know I’m worth it
There’s nothing like having the epiphany that I am enough and then shortly thereafter hearing a song that validates my thoughts and reassures me that that is exactly how I should be thinking.
Music really is so remarkable…and so influential.
I mentioned “Hero” earlier. It’s a recent addition that came recommended by an incredible friend, a strong woman who has been dragged through the mud and is now rising above, more tenacious and determined than ever before. When she played this song for me, the physical reaction to the words was incredibly intense – instant chills and tears (guys, I’m a crier, what can I say? *shrug*).
Just listen to this song and read these specific lyrics while you picture a broken soul, who never, ever thought she was enough, because she came to believe every nasty word that had been thrown into her face over the years. Then picture that same shattered woman, pieces picked up and taped, glued, stitched, and cemented back together. She has her head held high, wearing a smile that she’s been told can light up a room, and she’s filled with a radiant love that glows from the inside out, because she has finally realized she’s a pretty cool person after all. If you can picture all of that, you’ll understand my reaction to this song.
…But I found I’m powerless with you Now I don’t need your wings to fly No, I don’t need a hand to hold in mine this time You held me down, but I broke free I found the love inside of me Now I don’t need a hero to survive ‘Cause I already saved my life
And I really did. I saved my life. Not alone, of course. I am fortunate enough that I had the help and support from so many incredible people, and it was through their unconditional love that I found the love inside of me. Don’t get me wrong. Some days are still hard. Sometimes, even with the slightest, most minor of rejections, those old thoughts of unworthiness tiptoe, ever so carefully, back into my head, swirling around so quietly that I don’t even realize what is happening. I just feel low and the old thought patterns start cycling through my mind, but more out of habit than actual belief.
And that’s the difference.
Before, when I would have my dark moments, those moments would spiral into days, and sometimes consume an entire week. I wouldn’t be able to create a different internal dialogue because I genuinely believed the negative thoughts playing on repeat.
Now, when I start to have that negative self-talk, when I turn to beating myself up and internalizing it all, and I start thinking once again that I am not worthy or “enough,” I simply play that song. And I remember who I am today.
I am no longer powerless. I am no longer held hostage by the voices of others who feel it necessary to bring me down and tear me apart with their words. Because I have a deep love for myself now.
Love is powerful. Everyone seems to understand that. But self love? Holy smokes, it’s other worldly! I almost feel as though it’s a superpower. By genuinely loving myself, it gives me a sense of freedom and fearlessness that I’ve never possessed. It’s quite intensely beautiful, actually. And so far from who I once was.
It’s crazy to look back to last March, to reflect on who I was and how I initially handled my imploding world. I was an entirely different person then. It truly fascinates me! While I now try hard to live in the moment, to focus on this breath that I’m taking and enjoy what is directly in front of me, there’s nothing like taking a glance into my past to offer a bit of perspective and see just how far I’ve come.
Which brings me to another song on my playlist – “30,000 Feet” by Ben Rector. From the first time I heard it, it does its job in reminding me to take a step back and look at the bigger picture.
I’ve walked into harder times, I’ve walked out the other side It seems like you end up getting what you need Yeah looking down from 30, 000 feet Life’s been good to me
In the grand scheme of things, life has been very good to me. Yeah, sure, my ex cheated on me with random women for damn near a year before I found out (thanks to one of those women who decided to reach out to me after my ex insulted her one too many times). And yep, that sucked terribly. But now, looking back with peace in my heart, our marriage really should’ve ended long ago. We weren’t a good fit. We didn’t lift each other up. We became the couple that brought out the worst in one another. We had no tolerance for each other. So, his multitude of betrayals was really a gift. I see that now. When I reflect for a moment and see the woman I was, compared to the woman I am today, I am grateful for that gift he gave me. It was an incredibly difficult lesson to go through but now that I’m here on the other side, I am stronger because of it.
I now move forward in a different direction. One where I have the opportunity to be loved and feel love in ways I’ve never imagined. In ways that I thought only existed in fairy tales. Or, I have the opportunity to move forward confidently alone, rocking out this life with my incredible community and my amazing daughter.I welcome either path. Because I am lucky to have the life I currently do, that is already filled with an abundance of love that is truly unconditional.
So, yes, life’s been good to me.
It is worth it to take a bird’s eye view of my life every now and then. When I’m in the thick of it, my view is far too narrow to see the bigger picture. But as I’m driving along from client’s home to client’s home throughout the day, and 30,000 feet comes on, it forces me to take a moment to look back. And with that gain in perspective, I can’t help but smile.
Because where I am today feels right. It feels good. I love that I am here, in this space, with all the life I’ve already gone through. Pink’s song, “I Am Here,” is filled with lyrics that explain this:
I wanna be lost, so lost that I'm found ... I am here, I am here I've already seen the bottom, so there's nothing to fear ... May the light be upon me May I feel in my bones that I am enough ... My heart it is racing, but afraid I am not Afraid I am not ...
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I was…goodness…you know, I was so lost 6 months ago. I hit rock bottom. I felt completely and utterly shattered and didn’t know who I was, where I was going, or how I could survive another day. And now? I’ve found myself. I’m a me that I never knew could exist. And because I experienced that devastating catastrophe that ended the life I once knew, I now feel in my bones, down to my very core, that I am enough. And I am fearless.
The freedom that I now feel in my life would never exist without the events leading up to and then occurring on March 17, 2019. The person I am today is here, in great deal, due to my amazing friends, who have journeyed alongside with me, lifting me up every moment they could, being the constant support I so needed.
And then there’s my playlist, which has been my therapist in the car, the shower, or on hikes up the incline. Music has been a vital part of my journey, evolving as I have grown and my perspective has changed. Some days I skip the “old” songs that were amongst the first added, because I no longer need those messages. Some days, I play the same song 4 times in a row, belting out the lyrics in the car as tears stream unashamedly down my face, because the lyrics feed my soul in that moment and I can’t get enough.
There’s a lot about my life today that I never imagined would be my reality. And I’m perfectly okay with that now. In fact, I am hopeful, grateful, and quite content. I have people in my life who value me and remind me of exactly what it is that I deserve.
Who knows what tomorrow will bring? That is something I no longer really waste much time worrying about. If I do start to go down that rabbit hole, I bring myself back by asking myself, “How do you feel right now, in this moment?” How I feel in the moment is all that matters to me. If the moment is filled with positivity, I embrace it and keep doing what I can to allow that positivity to linger. If things don’t feel right in my world, then I reflect and figure out a way to bring things right again. Because now I know that I am strong enough, and capable enough, to make the difficult decisions that will make things right in my world once again.
In the last 6 or so months, I’ve hit rock bottom. I’ve felt the hurt caused by multiple, appalling betrayals. I’ve felt sadness so intensely that the physical pain from breaking my hand during that first week went unnoticed. I’ve experienced anger that I never realized could legitimately exist outside of the imaginations of experienced screenplay writers and best-selling authors.
And while I know that I am still a work in progress, I’m becoming a renewed and more capable person than ever before. I’m a significantly improved and transformed self.
So, when it comes to making difficult decisions that will ultimately make my life better, I move forward – head on. Sure, I still feel a deep sadness in those situations. And I lament the broken possibility. But I will never again stay in any situation that makes me feel like my world is a bit off kilter.
I will never again sacrifice my authenticity – or my heart.
Because now I know better.
The lyrics from the song “Didn’t Know Better” by Ivan B make me roll my eyes and smack my forehead. I may have not known better before, but I surely know better now. And when you know better, you do better (thank you, Ms. Angelou!).
I just didn’t know better I used to have no confidence Uncomfortable in my own skin Deep down, way-way back then I just didn’t know better
I have the confidence now to know that I can overcome a great deal of pain. There isn’t much that could happen that would hurt worse than what my ex – my daughter’s father – did. And I’m more comfortable in my own skin than ever in my life. Which is a dangerously beautiful combination.
“I am here,” living moments at 38 years old that I couldn’t have anticipated would fill my life. And you know what? Through it all, I am bound and determined to make the best of it.
So, bring it, life. With all of your chaos, uncertainty, love and heartbreak, joy and laughter…bring it all. I’m here to live this adventure out loud and with fearless, fierce moxie, all while shamelessly belting out the song lyrics that match, as I walk along on this musical journey.
This might be the day that I quit counting. 184 days might be the “magic number.” Some time ago, a friend told me that I should quit counting the days, that it wasn’t healthy, and asked if I was waiting on some magic number of days to pass when everything would be right in my world again.
Well, it’s here.
And it only took 6 months.
I doubt I’ll finish writing in time to publish this on September 17th, but that’s the date right now. To be exact, it’s 6 months, 4 hours, and 20 minutes from the time I received the email from my ex’s Ashley Madison lovely, exposing his double life. Exposing his infidelity. And exposing just the tip of the iceberg of the multitude of betrayals that would unfold over time.
Today, I celebrate that email. Today, I have a sense of peace and calm that I haven’t had in decades. I don’t think I’ve felt like this since July 31, 1998. And even then, I was just a kid.What did I know? Now, I have so much more experience that I approach that which life hands me with a sense of peace that has probably never existed within me.
My first husband was verbally and emotionally abusive. As was my second. Over time, without realizing it, I became an entirely different person than I tried to portray. My inner dialogue was painful and harsh. I thought very little of myself, while simultaneously trying to be the person on the outside that I desperately wanted to be on the inside.
I was living a lie. And it was exhausting.
I wanted nothing more than to live an authentic life. I’ve recently looked at an old journal, from several years ago, where I specifically wrote out “live an authentic life” as one of my goals – but I couldn’t. Because my internal message never matched what I presented to the world.
And it happened again, just yesterday. I have a dear friend group of moms at my gym. There are 5 of us in total and one of the moms bought us all hats. She carefully picked out the sayings for each of us, being deliberate and intentional with our phrases.
My hat says, “I’ll bring the dance moves.” I immediately thought it was given to me ironically because, as my internal dialogue has always affirmed – I don’t dance.
But then she explained that I’m always moving at the gym, dancing to the music. And it made me pause. I do dance! I dance without a care in the world at the gym! I’m confident there, and surrounded by people that love me and are just as crazy and ridiculous as I am. It’s my safe place. And I am completely comfortable there, surrounded by my friends-turned-family, that love me dearly.
I do dance.
I am in a news video clip, promoting our gym, that was taken last week. In the clip, you can see me dancing. I knew the news crew was there, yet I was in my zone, in my happy place, and I was dancing. Without a care in the world.
I do bring the dance moves.
Such a simple moment, with such profound results.
Once again, my internal dialogue was feeding me lies! The people around me see an entirely different person than the way I see myself and that has got to continue to change. Little by little, my worlds are coinciding.
I feel as though I’m finally achieving my goal. I’m living authentically. My internal dialogue is filled with positive messages to myself.
For example, I have (had?) body dysmorphia. I’d look in the mirror and see a completely different person than what others would see in me (hmm, I’m seeing a pattern here…). I’d stand on the scale and berate myself, calling myself a heifer and other such names. I wasn’t very kind to myself. *sigh*
But why?
Looking back, I think it’s because I was beat down for so long. I wasn’t enough for the people I loved – ever. I was criticized and humiliated. Accused and attacked. For decades.
So, the external onslaught became my internal dialogue.
And then, March 17th happened. And I started seeing my therapist frequently. I don’t recall now, but I think it was once a week, though at the very beginning, it might’ve even been twice each week. I just can’t remember.
But, man, is my therapist out of this world.
(PSA: Guys, go get yourself a good mental health professional. No matter how you're feeling, seeing a therapist should be a part of your general self-care routine - even if it's quarterly, just to check in. Go.)
Okay…where was I?
Ahh, yes. My therapist calls me out. He doesn’t tiptoe around things. He knows I’m a perfectionist and tells me to knock it off, to quit playing “God.” He’s blunt. He’s seen me break down and ugly cry in his office because I didn’t believe the words he was telling me. I was so broken and had spent so many years beating myself up that I found myself unworthy. I believed the negativity my ex spewed at me. And I didn’t believe my therapist or anyone else who tried to tell me differently. Well, until this last month or so, when it just clicked after one of my appointments with him.
At this specific appointment, I left feeling defeated. I was still crying as I walked to my car. He had told me to re-frame my thoughts and gave me a replacement dialogue to use. I looked at him through my tears and shook my head. I told him I couldn’t say those things to myself because they were lies. I didn’t believe them. How could those things possibly be true???
He sighed, and with a look of sadness for me that he just couldn’t mask, he agreed to give me another option. For now, he said…one that was neutral and I was much more comfortable with saying to myself.
And I did. Anytime I needed to re-frame my inner dialogue, I repeated the second option. Until one time, I repeated the first. And it felt good. It felt honest. And I smiled. Because I believed it.
And I haven’t stopped believing my new inner dialogue.
Until I received the hat and the first thought in my head was, “I don’t dance.”
My inner voice still lies to me. I suppose we all deal with insecurities and things we’ve convinced ourselves of that, with enough confidence and self-reflection, we can find to be utterly untrue.
I do dance. Happily and ridiculously. And it took a dear friend to see that in me to make me realize this truth about myself.
I am finally listening to the positive messages people tell me. I no longer think I am unworthy of those messages. I no longer believe they’re just feeding me lines of complete garbage, just to try to make me feel better. I’m listening to the correct messages now and it’s changing who I am.
I used to worry about every little thing. I called myself a catastrophizer. I saw the negative outcome in anything. With some things, it turned into paralyzing fear.
Now, I simply ask myself, how do I feel about that right now. It is only this moment that exists. Why fret over the possible “what ifs” in life? I was a Type A planner. And worrier. I covered all the bases. Or I thought I did…
And where did that lead me?
No amount of planning can prevent life from unfolding exactly as it is supposed to. Loved ones will die. Car accidents will happen. Illness will strike. Personal catastrophes that are far worse than mere infidelity will occur – catastrophes that have no positive outcome in the end and yet, you still have to reconcile it all and try, valiantly, to move forward. (**Okay, I am not downplaying infidelity. However, so much good has come into my life from his choice to end our marriage through those means. With some catastrophes, no matter how hard you try, you cannot find the silver lining an no good will ever come from it.**)
There are some things that will still turn your world upside down, if only for a moment, regardless of how much effort you put in to make sure you’re following a certain path that has been deemed “safe” inside your head for your multitude of reasons.
So, I encourage you to live free and with authenticity (whatever that means for you. For me, it was to finally ignore the lies I’d been living with for decades).
Make sure your mind, body, and soul align to your truth.
Only listen to the voice in your head if it’s feeding you positivity. Otherwise, remind yourself that it’s all just lies and should be re-framed and shut down.
Six months later, I feel lighter than I have in a long time. The burden of the lies has been lifted. When my ex does beat me up, verbally speaking, he’s attacking triggers that used to exist. His words no longer have power over me. Where he was once able to destroy me with just a few sentences, I now simply shrug them off (okay, I might still throw in some cheap shots back, I haven’t quite mastered this whole “living with class and grace” thing). But the point is, his words do not defeat me anymore.
I am now living a life that is extremely satisfying. I am content. I feel empowered and strong. I very rarely overthink and over-analyze. And I have no fear.
Things just are.
I form my next decision based on how I feel right now, in this moment. I can’t put enough emphasis on that. Right now, this moment, is the only true reality. To me, that is the only thing that matters. If it is bringing me happiness right now, I will continue to pursue it. As soon as it evokes a negative emotion, then I change my course of action. I no longer worry about “what if” and “should’ve” and “could’ve.” Things just are. Life just is. I breathe in. I breathe out.
This is what is working for me.
I do dance. Thank you for seeing that in me, Casey. And even more than that, thank you for pointing it out to me.
And, finally, I live and love without bounds or fear of what may come or what may be. Because none of that matters. It simply doesn’t even exist, so how could it matter?
Six months later and I am finally free of the lies. I never would’ve thought, in the moments after receiving that email, that this is where the chain of events would lead me.
Who would have ever thought that I’d be so grateful that my ex cheated on me?
184. This might be my new lucky number.
Because life is so good today.
Please excuse me…I feel the need to go dance. I do that now. *smile*
A Graceful Catastrophe 