Tag: life

life, love

What Catastrophe

A Graceful Catastrophe

This journey is interesting. Life, in general, is simply unpredictable chaos. I am learning how to “ride the wave,” to “roll with the punches,” to try desperately to “keep from drowning” and hold my “head above the water”, fighting fiercely to keep my wits about me as I am buckled into this roller coaster, gripping the handles so tightly that my knuckles are white, just so that I don’t fall out, crashing and spiraling back to the ground.

All of the idioms fit. *chuckles*

I’ve come so far in the nearly 6 months since I first found out about my ex’s mountains of betrayals. And I can honestly say that I am finally rising above the catastrophe that the email I received on St. Patrick’s Day sparked. I find that I am being more intentional with whom I am seeking connection and conversation. I’m being drawn to people who challenge me in a multitude of ways, but mostly who challenge my mind. My responses are respectfully questioned, forcing me to analyze that which I feel strongly about, to justify why I think it, or to finally decide that my thoughts are flawed and I ought to re-evaluate my opinions. In short, these people are helping me to grow, to become a better me, and to better understand exactly who I am.

While it’s incredibly difficult, and at times exhausting, it’s refreshing. My ex-husband didn’t push me to be a better person. We didn’t have the deep and meaningful conversation that prompted the levels of introspection necessary to increase self-awareness and achieve personal growth. We didn’t live in the type of safe place, filled with mutual respect, where he could kindly call me out and help me consider different perspectives. Our relationship was volatile, our communication dismal. We just weren’t good partners for one another and I think a lot of that is because we weren’t good for ourselves.

This is a problem I never want to have again. Wait, let me re-word that. This is a problem I will never have again. So I am choosing to continue pursuing opportunities and connections that will help me to not only continue to heal my soul, but to also grow emotionally.

I came into our relationship with a lot of baggage. And so did he. We both still have our baggage but I can say mine is getting easier to carry. I am understanding myself in ways I never have before. And I can feel a different type of deep peace within. Guys, it’s incredible to live without the weight of all those bricks that have been piled on me for decades…for far longer than just my ex being in my life. For the most part, I feel quite calm, which is at the same time exhilarating, because I cannot recall the last time I felt this level of composed tranquility.

Sure, sometimes life gets stressful – and heavy – but I’m learning to see it all in a different perspective and I haven’t been lingering in that negative space like I used to. I am so much stronger – in mind, body, and spirit – and, therefore, far healthier now. If life gets heavy, I have the strength and ability to climb back up out of the trenches much quicker than before. I just see things differently. I feel things with far less drama than I once did. And the most important lesson I’ve learned over the last 6 months is that “it” isn’t about me. I very rarely hear the self-defeating, negative self-talk anymore. Now, more often than not, I shrug my shoulders and understand it’s “not my circus,” as the saying goes.

The way I am intentionally choosing to live isn’t exactly easy, but it isn’t hard, either. It’s a choice. A conscious decision. And that, is the hardest part. Sometimes, a lot of times, it’s so easy to simply react to what life throws at us, to snap back at another, whose words or actions trigger us, to respond carelessly and thoughtlessly. It just happened again today, with my ex, of course. But it wasn’t as bad as it was, say, 3 months ago. So, I guess that’s progress.

But none of that is classy. Or graceful. Since the beginning of this journey, that has been my ultimate goal. And it feels like I take 1 step forward, then 2 steps back again. Yet, I’m constantly reflecting. I’m working on “the pause.” (I suck at it, but I’m working on it.) I am becoming more aware of tiny shifts within – I feel the changes occurring so quickly that it’s like I blink and I’m somebody slightly different than I once was. I have hope that one day, I will be able to mostly control my behavior – especially when I am triggered.

To choose to live authentically and intentionally means that the road is going to be a challenging one. But it’s so worth it. I read a line from an Instagram post by createthelove that hit home – especially because of where my life is today. He said, “when space is created in our lives, it allows other people and experiences to enter. Your greatest moments are waiting, you just need to let go of the ones which have already passed.”

Which is why it’s pointless for me to continue allowing myself to be triggered by my ex. For what? His actions have created a space that I am now grateful for, one where I have experienced more personal growth than I ever could’ve had with him by my side. I now have a life where I can focus on that personal growth, on chasing experiences that will simultaneously fill my soul and open my eyes to realities I never knew could exist. I have opportunity now. And more time and energy to purse those experiences that come with this newfound opportunity.

But I’m trying to be careful now. I quite strongly believe that the energy you put out into the universe is exactly what will be returned back to you.

Intentionality. Grace. Class. Love. Authenticity.

That’s what I want to project out there, regardless of how another treats me. I want to practice it so frequently that it becomes imprinted on my soul and becomes as natural as breathing.

Another Instagram post that hit home is from mindfulmft. Vienna Pharaon said, “ask yourself this: Is what I’m about to say or do going to lead me to peace or suffering? (and then adjust accordingly)” She then went on to say, “We either move towards suffering or we move towards peace. We move towards chaos or we move towards freedom. We move towards pain or we move towards healing. This or that.”

Simple. This. Or that.

We have the choice. I have the choice. Do I want to bring this into my life, or that? I know one thing for certain – I want to live as an example for my daughter, and anyone else who happens to be watching, as someone who makes the conscious decision to chase peace and healing, and to pursue the freedom that comes with being in complete control of my actions and, my biggest struggle, my reactions.

I owe that to all my relationships, present and future.

This journey has been far from simple. There have been moments where I literally didn’t know how I would be capable of taking my next breath. The pain was undefinable. The destruction catastrophic.

But looking back, now with a bit of distance, I can see the bigger picture. It’s not the destruction I thought it was when it was merely inches from my face. Perhaps I don’t have a bird’s eye view quite yet, but from this distance, I see that my ex’s actions started a chain reaction that actually cleared my path, allowing the sun to fully shine down, erasing the shadows I once lived beneath. And now? I’m lifting my face to the glorious light, allowing the healing warmth to flood my soul, as I feel serenity and contentment slowly replace anger and anguish.

Personal growth can be painful. But for right now, it mostly feels like freedom.

My shell cracked on March 17, 2019 at 6:08 pm. Over the next several months, everything spilled out. I felt utterly destroyed. Now, 3 days shy of 6 months later, I understand that it wasn’t destruction. It was freedom. And now, I am blooming.
life, love

Fireworks!

A Graceful Catastrophe

I feel anxious. But not anxious bad. Excited anxious. Things firing all over the place anxious.

There is just so much going on right now, in all aspects of my life, and I feel like my world is exploding in an entirely different way than it did 169 days ago (yes, I’m still keeping count. I’m a numbers person. I like the data. *grin*). Like, fireworks exploding.

For years and years, I felt like I had 2 lives in one, and they were never jiving together. The professional side and the personal side. Usually, the reality was I’d be rocking it professionally but sucking at the personal side of life. And I was reminded, pretty frequently over the last 6 or so years, exactly how awful of a wife I was.

But I was killing it professionally. And as a mom. I just sucked as a wife.

But right now, today, the split road has joined into one, wide, beautiful road. I picture this road as the “White Way of Delight,” for all you Anne of Green Gables readers out there. My life is finally jiving in all aspects. Professionally AND personally. Fireworks!

Thinking about where my company is going to go over this next school year gets me so excited that I feel like my insides are literally buzzing. And then, one of my best friends and I are going into business, taking a giant leap of faith – together. And it’s going to be incredible. I can feel that in my bones, too. My book is already outlined out, I just have to start writing and it will be an actual and legit book soon enough.

My friends and my community are about the best people in the whole entire world and they make my day to day a better place to exist. I couldn’t have made it past all those dark days without the support from all of you, my dearest community. You lifted me up out of the trenches time and again and I owe my everything to you. You’re all getting wine, tequila, after my book gets published and I can afford all that alcohol, but I can give you all tons of hugs in the meantime. *wink* I owe you the world for being so wonderful over these last, awful *almost* 6 months.

I cannot believe it’s been almost 6 months. Half a year already. Wow!

I feel like it was 5 years ago, though. Or, more accurately, an actual lifetime ago.

I have changed so much and I wouldn’t go back to who I used to be for a second. This new me is daring, spontaneous, and can’t be bothered to care very much about living the cautious life I once did.

This life is meant to be rocked. I’m grabbing the bull by its horns and hanging on for dear life. I’m taking risks, both personally and professionally, that I would’ve only dreamed about in the past.

I’m open to the positive energy of my world and it’s being returned to me 100 fold.

I absolutely cannot wait to see where it takes me.

And I think this is all happening now because I’m finally listening. And not just to people’s words, but to their actions. One of my all-time favorite people, Maya Angelou, once said, “When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.”

I’m done jamming a square peg into a round hole just because I would prefer it if it fit.

I’m listening. Carefully.

And remember when I had my epiphany that I am enough? And then, if you’ve been reading my blogs and following along, you’ve seen that it’s been a roller coaster of believing it and then having to convince myself all over again.

When someone behaved in a hurtful manner in the past, or in a way that I just didn’t really appreciate, I’d think to myself, “What did I do to make them behave in such a way?”

I’d blame myself. Fully. And then beat myself up for it over and over again.

I wouldn’t necessarily always reflect, either. I just owned the other person’s actions. Because, I thought, since I wasn’t ever enough for pretty much everyone, it seemed, it was obviously my fault. Obviously, an area where I was lacking was what caused them to become upset with me – or ignore me – or whatever negative action it was.

Now, though, it’s becoming like water off a duck’s back. I no longer take it personally. I know it’s not about me. Because if it were, and if it were a valuable relationship, and I did do something offensive, then I would be approached and a proper conversation would be had.

But proper conversations are not being had. So I know it isn’t about me. And I no longer question my worth over it. It’s not about me. Because now I know I’m enough. I know that I add value to other people’s lives. And I know where my heart is.

Guys, I actually and genuinely love myself. Every single bit of me. This might be the first time in my life where that statement is true.

It’s so freeing to feel so sure about myself. It’s so freeing to approach life with absolute fearless self-confidence that I am willing to take blind leaps of faith, both personally and professionally. Like opening a completely new business, independent of my successful academic support business. And to have so much self-assurance that it will absolutely be something that makes my heart swell with pride, just like my current business does.

There’s something to be said about living a truly authentic and fearless life. I am no longer guarded against the world. I’m not even jaded like I once was. I’m learning to not overthink situations. I’m learning that, in order to live honestly and purely, to truly absorb everything life could possibly be, you must be willing to humble yourself and open your heart.

Even if it means that leads to eventual pain.

I strongly believe that a painless existence is a safe, and therefore, boring one. I do not want to live a safe, guarded life, simply to protect myself from the potential of being hurt. I am embracing this life and all that comes my way.

Because everything just is. This moment. This breath. This is the only thing that is real. And not only am I learning how to accept that, I’m also fully understanding that people’s actions towards me oftentimes have very little to do with me.

And that’s just as equally freeing of a feeling. And maybe that’s part of why I am not worried about the potential inevitability of pain. I’m overcoming a double whammy of pain – that of loss and betrayal. And I’m understanding that what pushed my ex actually had quite little to do with me. I’m also fully accepting that this is all part of my journey. And I now know just how strong I can be.

I used to get so frustrated if someone didn’t behave in a manner I wanted, or hoped, they would. Now? Well, most days, at least: whatever. Seriously. I just don’t have time for that. I have no expectations that I place on others – because as a dear friend once told me, “Expectations are just future resentments.”

So, where I once hoped others would behave in a certain way, I no longer do that. They’re going to respond to life based on the baggage they are carrying around. And that’s not my problem, nor does it have anything to do with me or my self-worth.

Everyone has their own pile of shit. Life is hard. It’s hard for literally every single person I know. And we all deal with our “hard” in our own ways. No one individual’s “hard” is any harder than anyone else’s and no one way to trudge through it is better than another.

We are all just navigating through life, hanging on for our dear lives sometimes, all while carrying our baggage and smelling our pile of shit that permanently, or at least semi-permanently, lives in front of our faces. It’s impossible to ignore (though so many of us try, in vain, to pretend it doesn’t exist.).

We can try to re-frame the negative and use new phrases in order to replace the negative self-talk. We can re-train our brain and re-focus our mindsets. But we’re still going through our own storms. And our baggage will forever be a part of our story.

And that is absolutely okay. There is nothing wrong with that. Unconditional love and understanding for others is all we can give. I no longer feel like I have to harbor anger or resentment because it has nothing to do with me. Perhaps your bag is extremely large, heavy, and awkward to carry. Mine was, too, for a while. I’m not sure if it’s getting lighter, or if I’ve just developed a better system in order to carry it, but my baggage is no longer completely weighing me down like it once did.

Let me get a little more personal with you for a second: part of my baggage is that I love attention. I crave it. It feeds me. So, when I used to not receive the attention I so desired, I would take it personally. What is wrong with me? What did I do?

Perhaps I still default to that at times, but another thing I’ve been practicing is “the Pause.” I have been trying very hard to pause before I react. And in that moment, when I’m successful, I remember that it isn’t about me. The lack of action, the lack of attention, is not because I am not worthy of it. It is because of something within the other person. Perhaps they just need time to do their own reflecting. Perhaps they’re just busy. Perhaps they’re simply clueless. *smile* Perhaps they’re struggling with how to carry their own baggage. Perhaps it’s one of a million other reasons.

But it’s not because I’m not worth it.

Putting this epiphany that I had into actual practice has been so rewarding. I’m finally internalizing it. But because it’s a practice, I am by no means perfectly knocking it out of the park. Sometimes I react, and forget about the pause. Sometimes I default to wanting to immediately apologize for doing something wrong, even though I have no clue what I did wrong. And probably actually did nothing wrong.

But, now, more often than not, I sit back and remember that it’s not about me.

Before, when I hadn’t felt worthy, I lived guarded. Scared. Nervous. Filled with anxiety. I lived a life that lacked authenticity. And in all those moments, slowly and over a lot of time, I ended up losing who I genuinely was. I became this whole new person who would rather just keep quiet in the face of the verbal abuse, crying to my friends or silently by myself, and started to only see the worst that life could offer. Looking back at who I was, how I thought, the exhaustion and fear that took over my life, the changes occurring so slowly that I didn’t realize how bad it all was until I was able to look back at it from a distance…it just makes me sad.

I get that it’s been less than 6 months since my world changed forever and that, typically, is not viewed as very much time at all. But the personal growth has been unreal. I now have the ability, the self-confidence, to put into practice the actions that I feel will continue to lead me to living a truly authentic and free life. I speak with a blunt honesty that lightens my soul. Anyone who cares to listen, or read my blogs, sees the level of transparency with which I now choose to live my life.

And with this new heightened awareness and desire to live authentically, there have been noticeable physical changes, also.

My fingers, well, the cuticles around them, are almost completely healed now. This is huge, because the more anxiety, stress, and sadness that I feel, the more mangled they become. It is an outward sign of internal chaos and pain. The skin surrounding my nails has been destroyed for months, broken open and never having an opportunity to heal because I was so broken internally.

I no longer feel broken.

I no longer feel unworthy.

I have a greater understanding of who I am, what makes me happy, and exactly what dreams I want to pursue. I have no problems telling someone close to me that they upset me or how I want to be treated, and how they can show me that they value me. I no longer internalize it and worry about hurting their feelings for telling someone that they hurt mine.

I am choosing to live with the utmost transparency and it feels so good.

This transparency and authenticity is what is finally leading me down my “White Way of Delight.” I am, at long last, feeling as though who I am professionally and who I am personally are merging into one clearly defined soul.

I feel as though the colors in my world are glowing more brilliantly, my light is shining brighter, and the love that will eventually come into my life will be unlike anything I’ve experienced before.

Because now, finally, I am listening the first time and believing it. I am no longer willing to force anything. And I clearly see who I am, who I want to be, and I understand how to be fearless and free. And, goodness, it simply feels absolutely amazing!

**Side note and PSA**

I believe I need to credit my incredible therapist for getting me to this stage this “quickly.” At the beginning, I saw him weekly. We then spaced it out to every couple of weeks, then once every 3 weeks, and we recently made the transition to monthly appointments. Over time, we have developed a trusting relationship. Now, he really sees me and, therefore, calls me out when I need it. He’s been an extremely valuable resource on this journey and I have no plans on stopping our appointments. Especially if you are going through something, I highly recommend finding a professional to help you through it. Friends and your community will be your constants, of course, but nothing replaces a good mental health professional.

life, love

The Demons from My Past

A Graceful Catastrophe

With my ex, I thought I had to work to prove my love to him. And I had to earn his love. And on the days where I didn’t earn it, it affected me in such a way that it made me wonder about my worth. What was I doing wrong? Why couldn’t I get him to love me? What was wrong with me that I wasn’t enough for him?

*sigh*

Because I haven’t held back yet, there’s no point in starting now. I’m going to get just a touch more vulnerable with you all and share a couple poems that I wrote on March 3 of this year, exactly 14 days before I found out he’d been living a double life.

Darkness

lonely soul, vacant eyes
a stretched smile,
nothing but a guise.

surrounded by love and support - except from The One, 
who tends to fall short.

rarely understood, no interest in chatting,
she stands alone,
her heart and mind combatting.

if hope exists, she doesn't quite see it.
the baggage too great,
the future dims - bit by bit.

can they hold on? how much longer?
both want to love, but
the heart must be stronger.

crowded life, full of joy.
except from that one,
special boy.

so her soul is tired. desperate and alone.
her heart is heavy. 
she's worn to the bone.

with nothing at home to hold her close, 
she quietly slips away,
unnoticed as she goes.

                                                -KKC

That same night, I also wrote this one:

You

She's strong and broken,
both happy and deeply pained.
Buried and losing herself to this life, 
 she feels chained.

She wants nothing more than authentic living,
a heart that beats true.
Moments spent with her best friend...
If only it could be You.

                                                    -KKC

I share these with you because this is where my head and my heart were a mere 2 weeks before finding out about the nearly year-long series of betrayals. Our marriage hadn’t always been difficult, but the last 6 years or so were pretty awful. By March, I knew something was off. I knew that we were hitting an all-time low.

Undeniably, it shows in my poetry.

And yet, I was still blindsided when I’d found out. And the feelings of unworthiness intensified after March 17. My mindset was in a terrible place, as all those negative thoughts, all the self-defeating inner dialogues, were justified – surely I wasn’t enough if he’d been able to do that.

Now, here we are, after just about 5 and a half months, loads of self-reflection, conversation, and affirmation after affirmation from my dear community, and I find myself turning the page on this chapter and staring at the promise of a brand new chapter.

I’m so excited to see how this one unfolds.

I was talking with a friend last night and we got on the subject of being “enough” and “worth it.” This is a constant struggle because, while my logical brain can process that of course I’m enough (I’m a onehundo, right?), emotionally it is still something I struggle with from time to time. I’m quite sick of believing the lies my inner dialogue feeds me, so I’m processing through it as frequently as possible, so I can, at long last, shut them down.

I was asked why is it that I don’t feel like I’m enough? And, with a shrug, my response was, “Historically speaking, I haven’t been. So, clearly, I’m not.” Without skipping a beat, the next question that was thrown at me was, “And where is that history?”

I sighed, then laughed, and said that it’s in the past. “Exactly,” was the response. “It holds no validity in the present.” Which is exactly what my closest friends have been telling me for decades, what my current community of phenomenal friends tell me, what my therapist told me on Tuesday… You see what I’m getting at. Just because it may have been true in the past (and yes, it may have also not been true, but that isn’t the point here), it holds absolutely zero weight today.

My past does not define me. What I do in this moment does. And in this moment, I do feel like I’m enough. I feel like I’m living my most authentic life, chasing down dreams, living without fear, and taking care of myself in ways I’ve never prioritized before.

Yet, these last two months have been pretty terrible. I’ve felt like my roller coaster has been completely out of control. Going into these months, I told myself they were going to be hard. And guess what? They were. I wonder how much my mindset controlled the peaks and valleys these last two months?

Actually, I know exactly how much my mindset controlled every peak and especially every valley that I’ve gone through during July and August. *rolls eyes*

Yet, I’m grateful for the rough road I’ve traveled throughout the last 6 or so weeks. Without it, I don’t think I would’ve been given the opportunity to hear so many positive messages from my community that continues to rally around me, showing me true unconditional love. My friends have been flooding me with loving affirmations and without realizing it, have been helping me recreate my story and rewrite the narrative that is my internal dialogue. Just because I may have been unworthy in the past doesn’t make it valid today.

I’m finally listening. I feel like today, I finally took out the earplugs. The messages are coming through, loud and clear.

Who I am today is the only real version of me that exists. And this girl is enough. And I know it. I feel it. Down to my bones.

I’m finally living the authentic life I’ve longed for, the life I’ve so desired.

As I was driving around today, from one client’s home to another, I was listening to the playlist I started months ago (thanks to friends who recommended I have a playlist for that chapter of my life), and continuously add to, that is full of songs that represent my journey. It is quite the mix and it’s interesting to see how the song choices have evolved with the passage of time.

A relatively recent addition, “Undisclosed Desires” by Muse, came on, which I’ve listened to no less than 30 times, at this point. But today, I actually heard it. Honestly, in the last day or two, I feel like I’m finally listening and absorbing everything that has been falling on deaf ears for so very long.

The following section hit me today like I was listening to it for the very first time. This is what my community has done for me. Every single person who has been here for me since March 17, giving me their love in order to lift me up, has essentially been saying these words to me. 

I want to reconcile the violence in your heart
I want to recognize your beauty is not just a mask
I want to exorcise the demons from your past

My community has rallied with such consistently positive and affirming language, that I am actually starting to believe them.

Without me realizing it, and quite possibly without my dear friends even realizing it, they have been, slowly but surely, exorcising the demons from my past. And I’m not just talking about the emotional damage from the catastrophe that occurred 5 and a half months or so ago. I’m talking about decades of damage that is finally beginning to be healed.

Hours after Muse’s song struck a chord deep within, when I was exhausted from the long and busy day and just about to get home, Kacey Musgraves’ song, “Rainbow,” came on. Now, I’ve probably listened to this song several hundred times. But like I’d already mentioned, the energy surrounding me today is distinctly different, and so, I just got it. And the tears flowed freely as I drove into my neighborhood. 

When it rain it pours but you didn't even notice
It ain't rainin' anymore, it's hard to breathe when all we know is
The struggle of staying above, the rising water line

I’d been drowning. For months and months. My community has been filled with the most incredible life preservers, letting me hang onto them, even though I was probably almost drowning some of them from the weight of my chaos…but they never let me go.

They waited out the storm.

And for months, I just couldn’t look up. They told me, over and over, that: 

...the sky is finally open, the rain and wind stopped blowin'
But you're stuck out in the same old storm again
You hold tight to your umbrella, darlin' I'm just tryin' to tell ya
That there's always been a rainbow hangin' over your head.

But I just couldn’t. No matter how many times they told me to look up and fed me all the words of love I needed to hear, I couldn’t believe them. I was just too busy holding tight to my umbrella, weathering the storm that was in my head, trying to keep from drowning. I was in survival mode for a long time.

It was when I heard this bit, where I really started to lose it:

 If you could see what I see, you'd be blinded by the colors
Yellow, red and orange and green, and at least a million others
So tie up your bow, take off your coat and take a look around.

Because now, as I look around, I see them.

Guys, in that moment when I was driving, I could see all the colors. And everything is just so beautiful and filled with light.

Today, I’m finally able to put my umbrella aside. I’m no longer drowning in my storm. And I am sensing all of the messages. I can see that the sky if finally open and:

That there's always been a rainbow hangin' over (my) head
It'll all be alright.

And I finally, truly, believe it will be.

life, love

Piece by Piece

A Graceful Catastrophe

Some days you’re reminded of exactly who you are. Just how broken you really are. How much further you have to go. And you wonder if you’ll ever get “there.” To the place where you feel true contentment and peace.

I thought I was in a good place. I am strong. Blunt. Honest. Transparent. I self-reflect. A lot. I want to be a better me tomorrow than I was today.

And then something comes by while you’re walking this path to remind you that you aren’t exactly doing it right. What you’re presenting to the world doesn’t match with what is going on in the depths of your soul.

Because it is in those depths that a great void still exists. And I’m trying desperately to fill it. And the kicker is, I’m trying to fill it disingenuously. I’m stealing little bits of myself, sacrificing my authenticity, for just a moment, in order to try to fill the hole.

And do you know what’s left? A bigger hole. Because I stole from myself to try to fill it and just left myself more broken than when I started.

Or, at least, that’s how it feels.

This journey started 163 days ago. Just over 23 weeks. 5 months, 10 days.

Time is a funny thing. With each day that passes, I learn something new about myself. I have days where I feel like I could conquer the biggest obstacles in one fell swoop. There are others where merely opening my eyes is a feat all on its own.

The roller coaster is far from over. And that realization really sucks because I thought I was getting somewhere.

But it turns out, I’m just as defeated today as I was when I received that email on St. Patrick’s Day.

Perhaps this is it? Maybe this is just real life. There are days where you feel like a beast and nothing can tear you down. And then there are other days where you feel like you’ve taken a punch to the gut from the Hulk in full rage mode and it does so much more damage than just take your breath away.

Does this happen to you? And if so, how do you not feel like a fraud on your strong days? Because you’re reminded, on the not so great ones, just exactly how weak you really are.

Days like today I truly hate him. And I hate myself for allowing him to tear me down, piece by piece, over so many years. Sometimes, the extent of the damage from his awful words sucker punches me. His venom was sprinkled over me like such a fine mist that I barely realized the destruction that was happening within. After years and years, that fine mist added up to something much more like a dense fog. And I’m still trying to fight my way out of it.

But at least I’m fighting.

I know I’m shattered. I know my pieces are so destroyed that they’re barely recognizable and incredibly difficult to try to put back together. But piece by piece, I’m putting myself back together. In these moments, the ones that suck, is where my growth occurs. I stare at the pieces of my soul, scattered and shattered, that were left behind after the catastrophe blew up my world, and am completely overwhelmed by the destruction.

And then I’ll take a breath. Remind myself of exactly who I am. And garner the strength to put myself back together again.

Piece by piece.

All the while trying to give myself grace. Because this is going to take some time.

life, love

Nailing the Heck Out of Life

A Graceful Catastrophe

Each and every blog I’ve written has been written in the raw moments of the intense emotions storming inside of me. I haven’t filtered my pain. I’ve been open and vulnerable to the blank page before me – and to all of you.

As a verbal processor, it has helped me work through whatever emotions I was feeling at the moment and by the end of each blog, I’ve, for the most part, felt better.

But once I’ve written them, I let them go. I haven’t gone back and read any of my blogs.

Until tonight, that is.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to, really. But for some reason, I’ve been in this challenging head-space lately. It’s even gotten to the point where it’s affecting my workouts, which has been super frustrating. Something has to change. I have to get my mindset right again.

So tonight, I decided to read the first few blogs, from the beginning. And you know what? I am not that person anymore. I’ve felt the change. I’ve known that I’ve blossomed into this different woman. But reading how I thought I should’ve behaved immediately afterwards blows my mind.

I needed to look back in order to move forward and I’m grateful I have the opportunity to do just that, thanks to these blogs.

Back then, I wanted to choose to act with class and to give my ex the grace he didn’t deserve. That was important to me. In those first weeks, that turned into that first month, I was hoping to be an example for my daughter in how you deal with pain. And I thought there was a “right” way to show her how it all should be processed.

I no longer believe that.

I have absolutely yelled at my ex in front of her. I have gotten angry and frustrated and slammed doors with such intensity that I thought perhaps I’d broken them. (I haven’t.)

But I haven’t punched a wall again. So, that’s a win. *smile*

Because I promise you that I have wanted to. So. Many. Times.

And I don’t think it’s wrong to show my daughter that a person can feel such intense anger. It’s real life. For years now, she has experienced the exact same intense anger where she yells – no, screams – at the top of her lungs and throws things and wants to shred things with her teeth and her little fists ball up and she shakes and she just wants an outlet…just like me when I get mad at her daddy. And then, when her anger subsides, her and I discuss it. Calmly. Rationally. And we hug it out.

Now, I don’t hug it out with my ex, but I do apologize to my daughter when she sees me get that angry. And she understands. Because she has that emotion, too.

I’m at a point now where I really don’t care about giving my ex grace or treating him in any special way for my daughter. He’s just there, the father of my daughter, and someone I have to interact with to go over the details of her life. At this point, it doesn’t need to be anything more than that. Calm and civil co-parenting is the current goal. Perhaps someday in the future, we’ll be friends. For now, I’m just not ready yet. Sasha Sloan says it best in her song Ready Yet:

 I just want the bad feelings to end
But there's some shit I can't forget
I don't think I'm ready yet
Hit me up another time
Maybe one day I'll change my mind
You know that I just wanna be your friend again
But there's some shit I can't forget
I don't think I'm ready yet

Too much has happened, too much has been said, so many ridiculously challenging moments have been had in the last 5 months for me to think like I did in those first few weeks after receiving the email.

And he’s surely not as filled with humility like he was at the beginning, either. Which has been challenging for me to deal with, though, I am starting to be able to let that go. So, my daughter sees a vast array of emotions. And we talk about them. I’ve been really quite sad the last couple days. And she barely acknowledges my tears anymore. Not out of a lack of empathy, because she is such a compassionate and sweet soul. But more because she is so used to it. She kind of looks at me sweetly, but then carries on with whatever she was doing in the moment. Because it’s normal.

Emotions are normal. Feeling sad or angry is normal. Feeling happy and laughing is normal. I’m showing her that it’s okay to feel whatever it is she’s feeling. It’s all exactly as it should be.

And maybe that’s a much more valuable lesson?

Through natural conversation, the topic of future step-parents being in her life was brought up. I told her that I would never bring a step-dad into her life that wasn’t an exceptional human…that didn’t cherish both her and I. I told her that if someone were to be a part of our lives like that, it’s because he’d be out of this world and nothing less. And she smiled. And then, with a smirk, she reminded me of her one requirement, that she stated *I think* the day we told her we were separating, or within the first few days, at least. She wants to call her future step-daddy (and step-mommy) “Poopy Head.” I told her that if someone were to be in our lives playing such an important role, he’d absolutely be someone with a sense of humor and would have no problems with his new nickname. And she giggled.

I think these kinds of conversations are healthy and needed – and significant. They are never forced and come about only when she asks questions. I think, a necessary part of giving someone grace, is turning a blind eye to what they did. I don’t want my daughter to ever deny her emotions in order to make someone else feel less rotten about themselves. I am not sorry for my emotions. And I don’t try to hide them. Throughout this whole process, I’ve been an open book. And she has seen me process and battle all along the way.

So this week that she has been with me, she has seen her fair share of my sadness. And we’ve shared happy moments, as well. For example, when she asked me yesterday if I’d gotten any new clients yet, and I told her I had, she got so excited for me. And she was proud of me because it’s this early in the school year and I already have new clients. And, on a different day, she asked me about my day before I even had a chance to ask her about her’s. She cares. She’s thoughtful, She’s so considerate and kind.

It’s been over 5 months since her daddy and I split and just about 2 months since she’s been going back and forth in between two homes. And, while she still has moments where she asks why we can’t get back together (where I honestly respond that there are some things you just can’t come back from, and she seems satisfied with that answer thus far), she is a resilient little soul who is doing just fine. Despite seeing her mommy’s raw emotions. Or maybe it’s in spite of them.

She is thriving. And so am I.

And as I wrote that last sentence, I smiled. Because I believe it again. I haven’t felt it for a few days now. I just haven’t felt right within my world. I think looking back at those first few initial blogs helped me achieve the perspective I needed. I’ve come a long way. And yes, I have a long way to go. Significant personal growth continues to lie ahead in my future. And, that doesn’t take away from the fact that I have undergone a monumental transformation over the last 157 days.

I really enjoy who I am now, especially when the clouds part from overhead and I can see myself clearly. Fearless. Authentic. And ready to explore all the possibilities that now lie along my path.

You know, writing is the most incredible outlet for me. I started this blog tonight feeling so defeated and just kind of beat up. Writing reminded me that my daughter is both healthy and rocking the heck out of her life. She is thrilled about the adventures on her path. She is getting braver (she just told me she wants to be an actress, which is huge, because she’s always been so shy!) and I am going to take a bit of that credit. She is seeing her mama live fearlessly and chase down opportunities that once scared me silent. And she wants to do the same.

So, it’s been just a bit more than 5 months since catastrophe struck our home, and I am now able to clearly see that my daughter and I are absolutely nailing the heck out of this life we’ve been thrown into.

life, love

Onehundo

A Graceful Catastrophe

Okay. Not like I ever really sugar coat things, but this one is going to be pretty vulnerable. *sigh*

I just don’t get it. I felt so cheerful and optimistic when I wrote my last blog. I felt so high, so much like, “I’ve got this! This new life is amazing!! The world is my oyster!!!” And then, the last few days have felt so heavy. A quick nosedive into “bleh.” This roller-coaster is so not predictable. It sucks.

And I don’t really know why these emotions of mine tanked.

At the risk of sounding terribly cocky, I know I’m a gem. I know that I’m ambitious and smart and fit and pretty. I know that I’m a catch. I also know that my downfalls are that I’m stubborn and require a fair amount attention/validation. And when I’m not getting that validation, I end up having endless arguments within my head that I’m being ridiculous and I don’t need external validation. But I sure want it! And I repeat, over and over to myself, that I am wonderful. I’m a gem! And that I know I am wonderful so who cares if nobody else tells me that I’m wonderful?! And then the argument with myself ends because I either realize in that moment that yes, I am a badass or there’s no point in arguing anymore because I just can’t convince myself.

And then I have moments like this morning, where I still find myself crying at the gym. So many tears have been shed there!

15 minutes before this picture was taken, tears were freely falling. Here, we’re all smiles, ready to take on Round 2 of a killer workout at F45 and get those endorphins flowing. I’m super grateful for my gym bestie!!

Today, at the very end of my workout, new tears were shed because Rachel Platten’s “Fight Song” came on during the last station, when I’m in a plank, physically exhausted, and walloping my arms as hard as I can into a fake body thing. She sings, 

My power's turned on
Starting right now I'll be strong
I'll play my fight song
And I don't really care if nobody else believes
'Cause I've still got a lot of fight left in me

And I cry…because it makes me feel like a fraud. Because days like today I just don’t feel like I’m strong or that I have any fight left in me. So the tears flow.

Some days I feel so tenacious and determined. And I know the world is my oyster and yadda, yadda. But then there are days like the last couple where I can’t snap out of the funk and it all feels too heavy. And all I want is a partner to remind me of how amazing I am. And then I want to believe it.

How can I fully grasp that I am this wonderful being AND still struggle with needing validation?

Look, I am a logical person. So, I start to reflect and really wonder where this is coming from. Have I always been someone who requires validation? (Friends who’ve known me for most of my life, or even for a while, reach out to me and tell me, please.) Or is this part of the aftermath because my ex stopped choosing me? Stopped fighting for me? And ultimately made the decision to throw me away?

I know why he says he made those choices. Because I was a crappy wife. I know why I was a crappy wife. Because I was treated awfully.

It was a terrible cycle that just spiraled out of control.

And, at the end of it, his choices still caused me feel as though I wasn’t enough, I wasn’t worth anything.

But I had my epiphany, right? I know I’m enough now. And I honestly do believe it.

So why do I feel like such a fraud still?

It’s beyond frustrating.

While a friend was reading my blog from the other day, he wrote me and said the sweetest things, validating me. 

"You couldn't have said it any better. You are MORE than enough. Never let anyone tell you different. And I wouldn't call you a dime...more like a onehundo (that's slang for a one hundred dollar bill, people).

A dime can be easily lost, but losing a onehundo would feel like the end of the world."

Umm, yeah. That was so incredibly powerful to read. Especially the last line. My heart absolutely melted. It was exactly what I wanted, and perhaps even needed, to hear. I’ve read his words about 50 times, easily, in the last 2 days, to remind myself that what I feel is real.

I am the gem that I think I am. You should be sad if I’m not in your life. *shrug* While it’s hard to fully internalize it, I logically know that I am all these great and wonderful things. There are just some days where it’s a bit harder to fully own it, I guess.

It’s confusing and frustrating, though. How can you believe something about yourself and still argue with yourself that it’s real??? Why do I still feel like a complete fraud? I have to believe that this is a residual mess from the way my marriage ended.

Hmm, maybe that is it…

Perhaps it’s because actions speak louder than words. And in my reality, his actions were loudly and clearly that of someone who believed his wife wasn’t “enough.” So, while I know that I am enough, I also know that I wasn’t enough. At least, not as a partner. Not as a wife. Because if I had been, he would’ve fought for me, right?

Argh, even as I type that I know that to be untrue. I can’t absorb his fault. There’s never a good reason to do what he did.

But now that’s my baggage to carry, I guess. For the moment, at least. Until there’s a way to process this all out. It may take another opportunity to be in a relationship and see what kind of partner I can be. I’m not sure when or how I’ll let that baggage go, but I know I eventually will because my confidence is pretty great in all other facets of my life and I’m sure it’ll overpower these negative feelings eventually.

So maybe it’s not that I should feel like a fraud so much. Perhaps it’s more that I have yet to prove it to myself that I can be “enough” as a partner. Because no matter how much I logically understand that his choices during the last year of our marriage have very little to do with me, I still can’t help but internalize his words, that he’s repeated over and over, reminding me time and again, that it’s my fault.

But now, when those arguments inside my head happen, when I start absorbing the blame and questioning my abilities to be a worthy partner, I at least have the words quoted above, and of so many of my other friends, to fall back on. I keep saying that I’m going to write down each positive message that I’ve received from friends and stick them on a board or something, so I can see them every day and be reminded that plenty of other people think that I am enough.

So much weight shouldn’t be put on the actions from one person, especially when so many others negate it, except when that one person was someone you blindly loved and trusted with everything you had. The weight of that kind of betrayal, I’m finding, is quite challenging to fully dig out from. But I’m doing it, one pebble, one stone, one boulder at a time.

Because I am one incredibly resilient, beautiful badass. And I am enough – in all aspects. So I’ll keep smiling, keep living optimistically, authentically, and vulnerably, and I’ll remain open to possibilities and spontaneous adventure. And I know that one day down the road, someone will treasure me like the gem that I am. And, in turn, he will be adored.

Until then, I’ll keep fighting to stay strong. Because it is when I am strong that I remember that I am, in fact, a onehundo.

life, love

153 Days

A Graceful Catastrophe

In approximately 6 hours from the time I am writing these first words, it will have been 5 months since I received an email that changed my life.

153 Days.

I used to call it a catastrophe. I suppose, by definition, it still is.

However, I now view that email as the greatest shove into opportunity that I have ever received.

I was in an unhappy marriage. I felt stuck. I hadn’t given it my all to make it work, so I couldn’t justify leaving. We have a daughter, so that complicated everything. Or so I thought.

I am stubborn.

And…

I do not quit.

I don’t run away from things. So, in a crappy marriage I stayed, with virtually daily phone calls to my best friend, complaining about how miserable I was. Almost daily phone calls for years, guys. Years and years and years. Very few people knew what took place behind the scenes. Very few people, even now, fully grasp how ugly it was. I didn’t even understand the extent at which I was broken. It was my normal. Hindsight, though, shows me that who I was in that marriage was a byproduct of how I was treated. I just didn’t see that then. I thought that was who I was. Cautious. Scared, really. Neurotic. Worried about every tiny little thing. A catastrophizer.

Wow.

But this is how I, slowly and without even realizing it, got there…

How do you frequently hear that you add such little value as a wife and not let that get internalized and become something so much greater than that? I decided I had to work harder to seek out everyone else’s validation and approval so that I could be enough in some capacity of my life. Because it was made abundantly clear that I was not enough at home.

I upped my effort and it paid off. I became an incredible mom, raising a little human into somebody who already adds value to society. And I got positive feedback from my efforts. Our bond grew tighter and we are still exceptionally close.

I also doubled my efforts as a teacher and became highly respected at my school. My students, the families, the other teachers, and my admin valued my input. They listened to my thoughts and opinions when I spoke them aloud (a novel concept that rarely occurred at home). They sought me out for advice.

But at home, when I tried, it went unnoticed. The message of not being enough was on repeat. My efforts there were overlooked and disregarded. I was frequently reminded of how awful of a wife I was. Right in front of my face, other women on the street stole his glances (ha! long stares, really), rather than him being blinded by pure love for me. I wasn’t enough. I was worth so little, in fact, that it didn’t matter to him that he did those things blatantly and right in front of me. And then, my own perceived value as a wife, and therefore, as a woman, slowly waned.

Over the years, I internalized it. I wasn’t enough. If I wasn’t “enough” at home, then how could I be enough for anyone – even myself. So, that black cloud hung over my head, creating this persona that had to hyper plan everything and fear the worst, because surely since I was such a failure as a wife, I must also be on the verge of failing everywhere else, too.

That is who I was for at least the last 6 years. And who I absolutely was 153 days ago. A beaten down version of myself. Guys, I seriously entertained the idea about taking him back! I didn’t value myself enough to fully believe in myself and walk away.

Well, until there was a breaking point and I filed straight away the next day. But that’s another story for another day. It might even be in an earlier blog, I cannot recall…

But now? Ha ha! I had my epiphany and I see my worth. And being “enough?” Psh, I am way more than enough.

Now? Man, oh, man… Now I know who I am. And watch out, world, because as my friend worded it on our way to volleyball yesterday in the car, I’m a dime.

I. Am. A. Dime.

And I know it. Now, boy, do I ever know it.

And nobody can take that from me ever again. If you don’t see my value in your world, then that is just fine. I get it now. It’s not about me. It’s about you. You don’t have to like peaches. (Hmm, I’d thought I’d written about that, too. But, in a nutshell, it’s a reference to my favorite quote: You can be the ripest, juiciest peach in the orchard, and there’s still going to be someone who doesn’t like peaches.) It’s not up to me to change to fit your definition of who I should be, who is enough for you. I am enough just the way I am. If you don’t like me, then that is about you, not me. I get that now. I’m done taking it personally. It was never about me not being enough. (Oh, found it. Looks like I wrote all of this same type of stuff a week ago here. This topic has been a hot one for me lately.)

I wouldn’t be where I am today, with all this potential that lies before me, had I not received that email 5 months ago.

Five months. *shaking my head* Goodness, it feels as though that was a lifetime ago. And I suppose, in many ways, it was.

Without that woman having the courage to write me, I would still be questioning my self-worth. I would still be relatively unhappy.

Today, there is so much excitement in my life. Gah! There’s a whole load of things to be excited about. My energy is radiating happiness and my heart is open to being vulnerable.

My life has not aligned, professionally and personally, for years. Typically, things were wonderful professionally speaking and kind of, meh, personally speaking.

Not anymore. I am excited about both my professional and personal future. I have magnificent and fantastic dreams for me professionally that I am actively chasing down. Dreams that mesh perfectly with my many passions. Dreams that are realistically attainable. Actions in hot pursuit of those dreams that are pulling me in several different directions and keeping me awake at night from the buzz of the potential. It’s exhausting and exhilarating.

I am excited to live this life! Just a short time ago, I’d written that I wanted to fast forward and that I didn’t want to live this life that was unfolding. I am so grateful for the last 153 days and every single thing that occurred during them. They have meticulously molded this being into who I am today. And I love her.

I fully grasp the idea that when you live, especially when you live out loud and without fear, as I do now, a potential side effect of living like that is pain. I know I may get hurt again. I also know that if I don’t allow myself to be open to that possibility, I will miss out on the opportunity to truly live – and to be loved and cherished. I want to be treasured by another. I want to feel adored. I am looking forward to being able to shower someone with my love and know that he appreciates everything I have to give. I look forward to the chance at being in a healthy, mutually respectful relationship, where we push one another to grow and become better versions of who we were yesterday. And because I know now that I am enough, I will never settle for anything less than a partner that elevates me and treats me as I truly deserve.

I love that I now realize that nobody defines my worth for me anymore. I am healthier, and stronger, now than I have ever been before: physically, emotionally, and mentally.

I am a dime and watch out, world, because there is no stopping me now.

Yet, I can’t say that I am healed. 153 days surely doesn’t seem like that much time. But, I have grown exponentially. I have had so many epiphanies and have learned a great deal on this journey thus far. Honestly, it feels as though a fire is burning within, burning so brightly that my spark could never be dulled by another again.

I’m filled with light. With gratitude. With vulnerability. With understanding.

This phoenix is rising from her ashes and cannot wait to fearlessly conquer her world. And I am more ready than ever to add color and beauty to whatever shall cross my path.

153 days. Of pain. Of agony. Of tears. Of defeat. All to lead me to where I am today.

I am a dime. And now I know it.

life, love

That’s MY Remote

A Graceful Catastrophe

So, if you’ve been following my blog, this won’t come as a surprise to you.

I’m filled with rage.

But, it’s just sitting there, simmering, so it’s not always obviously present.

Until I get triggered.

My biggest trigger is when my ex says things like, “I would’ve never cheated if you’d been a better wife.”

Guys, I go from zero to a million. Like that. *snaps fingers*

When I went to see my therapist earlier this week, I asked for help to control my anger. I hate that I’m living with such a terrific loathing towards him. I also can’t stand that I give him the power to illicit such pure wrath towards him.

I need to figure it out. Perhaps I cannot forgive him…yet, but I can learn how to release my anger. I have to.

So, I have to learn how to take my power back.

I had absolutely no clue how to do that.

And then my therapist explained it to me. And things started to make sense.

I’ve already re-framed his betrayal as an opportunity for me, for a new and improved life. So, what does it matter that he blames me for cheating? He betrayed me, over and over, for almost a year. That is a fact. It led to our separation. Another fact. Which has led me to living fearlessly and with more raw honesty than ever before, while chasing down adventures, and being given occasion after occasion to explore the world around me.

I’m living my best life.

I’m meeting people I never would’ve met before.

I’m smiling genuine smiles and getting butterflies in my belly from excitement and anticipation.

Life is good.

So, as my therapist literally gave me the remote control back to hold, I realized I should no longer give him permission to push my buttons. Those are mine to hold onto. And I get to choose which buttons are pushed.

I’m holding the remote now.

The other thing he told me was to focus on something else, so it gives my cortisol a chance to lessen again. Well, that was easy. The mountains bring me peace. And so does music.

Do you remember the scene in the Sound of Music where Julie Andrews is dancing and twirling amongst the mountains and singing? Yep. That’s where my mind goes. Except it’s me, twirling and dancing around the open field near A-frame on the hike up Pike’s Peak. (It’s beautiful there.)

And I smile.

Okay, I don’t smile on my face, because I’m pretty sure that’d just make me look crazy when my ex is sitting there gaslighting the heck out of me. So, I smile in my head. As I spin and twirl and sing, “The hiiiilllllllls are alive, with the sound of muuuuuusiiic….”

So, I’m learning how to manage my anger. I had a wonderful opportunity just yesterday, on our daughter’s first day of school, as he sat next to me in the car (she’d asked us to ride together as a family to take her to school, so I, of course, obliged), raising his voice and making all sorts of demands.

One of the demands? He wants to censor my blog. That’s a tough one.

“The hiiiilllllllls are alive, with the sound of muuuuuusiiic….”

I should not be silenced.

But I digress.

So, the remote is in my hand. He doesn’t get to push my buttons anymore. My anger is dissipating and I keep remembering what a wonderful opportunity he has given me.

One day, I will be treasured by a man. Someone who sees my worth and lives in astonishment that I am his. And I will adore him right back. I know what love is – and what love isn’t. I will not fall victim to gaslighting or narcissism again. My eyes are open and my level of awareness is at an all-time peak. And I know what I want and I won’t settle for less.

The sense of freedom and weightlessness of this new life is incredible.

So, with all of these wonderful and exciting details in my life to live, why harbor such toxicity?

I shall not. And I will not. Because I own this remote and I’m never giving it to him again. (Or to anyone else.)

And when he tries to take it from me? I’ll smack his hand and start to sing at the top of my lungs, figuratively speaking, of course, because it’s really all in my head, “The hiiiilllllllls are alive, with the sound of muuuuuusiiic….”

life, love

Happy Anniversary

A Graceful Catastrophe

By the time I publish this post, it will be August 7, 2019. My 9th wedding anniversary. To the husband I am still legally tied to but for all intents and purposes, is very much my ex.

It’s weird. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about this anniversary. I mean, this time last year, he’d already been cheating on me for months! And we went out to dinner and celebrated our marriage. What a joke! I mean, goodness, when I look back at that dinner and that night, my blood boils. What a betrayal…

You can see it in this second, forever frozen by the phone’s camera that night. Look at his eyes. How did I miss this…this…”lacking” towards me. It’s just empty – and looking nowhere near me. This is the face of someone celebrating his 8th year wedding anniversary while he had been cheating on me for the last 3 months – and would go on betraying me in a hundred different ways for the next 7. Captured forever in this still. Let’s be perfectly real, here. He probably even talked to some lovelies that very day!

I guess that’s why I’m not really emotional about tomorrow. At least year 9 is being done honestly. Last year should’ve never been celebrated and I’m glad tomorrow won’t be. It’ll be a normal, busy day, filled with the typical Wednesday activities.

For me, right now in this moment, that is the hardest part to process through. To look back at memories and realize exactly what a sham it all was. To realize your whole life for 10 months (at least) was a complete lie. I felt bad for being a crappy wife. I sought out suggestions from male friends in the hopes they could enlighten me so I could be better, and do better.

Because I’d been convinced it was me who needed to be better. To do better. And of course, I definitely was lacking as a wife. Considerably so. I also wasn’t being nurtured. Or treasured. God, how my heart was starving for love and affection. I just wanted him to like me…to be nice to me. It sounds so pathetic.

I was talking with a friend tonight about my “bar.” Be nice. That’s it. He said he’d like to find a princess. Wait, no…a Princess. He’s a bit younger. Never married. And he deserves a bar that high.

I just want someone to be kind to me. That’s my bar at this point in my life. *sigh*

In the meantime, though, the world is my oyster. Every single person I make eye contact with is a potential new connection, a chance to learn about someone else’s life. To hear their story. Every new experience I pursue is another opportunity to face my fears. To challenge who I once was and become someone better. My mentality as of late is a, “Who cares, why not?” mentality. And, boy! Is it working for me!

There’s something about my energy right now that is exciting. I literally feel like my world around me is buzzing. It makes my heart race. My Colorado bestie and I have some irons in the fire that excite me like a 6 year old on Christmas morning. The people I continue to meet, the conversations I have, the random chance encounters while climbing up or running down mountains, or because I just decided one day to send a direct message to a stranger on Instagram…I am open to it all. And the universe is responding beautifully. It all adds so much value to my life.

I have met the most incredible people! With some, well most, really, I feel this instant connection with – like they are my long lost people. We can talk about anything. And we do. I think maybe it’s because I’m blunt. I just put it all out there. I’m not shy about my thoughts, my feelings, my intentions. And I’m more honest than I’ve ever been in my life.

Because I have nothing left to lose.

And absolutely everything to gain.

So, this year I’m giving myself my 9-year-anniversary-of-our sham-joke-of-a-marriage gift.

The gift of binoculars. No, really, follow me here.

Just shy of a week ago, I was in a pretty dark place. It was only 6 days ago and the world felt like it was collapsing on top of me. I was in the middle of the darkest tunnel and couldn’t see the light.

Because I hadn’t given myself my gift yet.

So, this gift. Tell me, what function do a pair of binoculars serve? According to Azo Optics:

Two objective lenses are situated at each end of the binoculars. The purpose of the objective lens is to collect light from the object that the user is looking at and bringing the collected light into focus in the eyepiece lens, which creates a visible and magnified image.

And because this word is used, and details matter, the definition of objective, according to Google Dictionary: not influenced by personal feelings or opinions in considering and representing facts.

“Not influenced my personal feelings or opinions…”

So, here’s my gift: I have this theoretical tool, immediately at my disposal the second I require it, that will remain clear and logical in helping me to see what is, in fact, right in front of me. I’ve just been unable to focus in and see it. So, my binoculars will gather that light that I couldn’t find a week or so ago, and bring it right up close to me, so close that it is not only visible, but envelops me in the magnified, warm glow, allowing me to see all that is good around me, giving me no choice but to focus on that, instead.

What an incredible gift.

life, love

Snitches Get Stitches

A Graceful Catastrophe

Life is weird, right? One day, you’re trucking along on your path, minding your own business, and then a semi-truck blindsides you.

It happens to all of us.

We’ve all been shaken up by something and it doesn’t really matter how you choose to describe it, what words you use to help you define it. You get rattled to your core by some defining moment and then you respond.

I have chosen to respond through writing. One day, I’ll write a book. Every day that passes, I feel my confidence and determination grow.

I will be a published author one day. I feel it down to my bones. In my gut, I know this to be true.

Writing is magical for me. There is something that occurs between my thoughts and my fingers. I feel this immense release once I’ve painted these intangible reflections bustling about within my head into black and white, as words form sentences and sentences form full blog posts.

But not everyone finds my words magical.

In fact, I’ve been accused of exaggerating the truth.

I couldn’t disagree more. These are absolutely my truths and my reality. Every single blog I’ve written has been done so with raw, blunt honesty as I process through the shit storm that has engulfed my world. Currently, I don’t know how to live any other way.

My life was shrouded in such blatant deceit that the only way I can combat the feelings roaring inside is to move forward with pure and frank sincerity.

I also strongly believe in karma. And fully accept that I am not immune to it. So, let me tell you a little story…

While running down a pretty sketchy trail yesterday, I hit uneven ground and lost my footing, causing my left ankle to completely collapse. I fell directly on my right knee, with barely a moment to put my hands down. My leg got a pretty gnarly gash.

It wouldn’t stop bleeding all day, so tonight I went and got stitches.

And I haven’t been able to stop chuckling since. The irony is not lost on me. Karma, I feel you.

Snitches get stitches.

My ex hates what I write. I mean, H-A-T-E-S it.

Should I perhaps leave a little bit of my reality a mystery and not “air out the dirty laundry?”

Hmm, I actually don’t see the problem in what I’m writing. Because it’s real. And nobody is real anymore. How can anyone truly connect, human to human, without getting a little dirty?? You can’t. You. Simply. Cannot.

Now, what my ex argues is that I am not sharing 100% of the details of 100% of my life. I am not sharing stories about my dates (though, as I was talking with a friend this weekend, I think that would be a cool book option. I have had quite a few very interesting moments that would make for an entertaining read. And the stories I’ve heard! I love hearing other people’s stories! You guys are a fascinating bunch and some of you have lived more life than I probably ever will. I’ll never tire of hearing your stories.)

But here’s the thing: I am not sharing all aspects of all parts of my life because not all moments need to be processed to this level.

Blindsided.

Semi-truck.

Cannot catch the swirling chaos inside my head.

So I write.

And somehow, after writing, I no longer have the desire to attempt to catch the hurricane and shove it in a bottle. The pandemonium within all comes out in a relatively calm and coherent string of words that forms something you connect with – and not because you want to attack my ex, but because you understand my struggle and my pain. Because you’ve struggled. And you have pain, too. We are not alone – no matter how alone we feel.

It’s not about him. And anybody worth their salt will understand that when reading my blogs.

I write about this topic because this is what I need to process. I write to figure out how to ignore the text blasts of venom and still try to believe that I am enough (still actively working on that bit). I write to figure out how to get strong (emotionally) – and remain that way. Because I am so emotionally exhausted (at times) that I feel laden with literally tons of bricks, all stacked on my shoulders, the weight of my world heavy on my soul.

But because I write, little by little, the bricks are removed. One by one. One moment at a time. One blog at a time.

By, me. And, because of this connection, by you.

Because so many of you get it. You’ve been there. You read what I write and interpret it as you like, seeing how it fits your own personal narrative. Pain is pain.

And then you reach out to me and encourage me. You share with me. You connect with me.

When I write, people don’t come to me about what a lousy person my ex is (because, when you peer into his soul, you do see a kind spirit). You all just don’t read that. That’s background noise. What you get from my blogs, at least, what I have interpreted from your comments, messages, and stories, is that you feel it, too. In your own battles. In your own lives. And you reach out to me because you see that I’m hurting. You acknowledge and validate me. You all remind me, sometimes daily, that I am enough. So I can believe it, too.

You see me.

That’s what these blogs do.

What my ex doesn’t understand, but you all do (at least those of you that reach out to me) is that the motivation here isn’t to bash him. It never has been. This isn’t about him at all.

It’s about me.

My pain as I process this catastrophe.

My inability to grapple with the idea that I am enough.

My battle to fight for some level of understanding as I deal with the aftermath of the catastrophe.

A friend told me tonight that my colors had been dulled. And one day I’ll figure out how to sparkle again. She reads my blogs. She understands.

This isn’t for him. This isn’t about him. My writing is nothing more than an attempt to sparkle again. To process this reality in the best way that I know how, using the one medium I’ve been passionate about my whole life – through writing.

So I will continue to write.

I refuse to be silenced.

Snitches get stitches.

So be it.

I’ll end with the lyrics of one of my newest favorite songs, Speechless, which happens to come from the Aladdin Soundtrack:

 "I can't stay silent
Though they wanna keep me quiet
And I tremble when they try it
All I know is I won't go speechless."

These blogs have brought me through the darkness in a way that I never imagined. And I’m finally beginning to see the light. I won’t be silenced now.