Tag: marriage

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

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

I Cannot Forgive

A Graceful Catastrophe

I fully understand that forgiveness is about me and not him. I get that concept.

I just cannot forgive.

And I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to.

I’m constantly triggered. His persistent and unrelenting need to validate his infidelity and his complete inability to grasp the magnitude of his betrayal strikes a fury within that burns hotter than what I’m assuming drinking pure hydrofluoric acid would feel like as it devours me from the inside out.

Which is why forgiveness is so important. Because this savage storm that, at best, is a windy, raging thunderstorm, lives within, ready to explode into a full-blown Cat 5 hurricane at a moment’s notice. It’s toxic. And I feel it eating away at me.

It’s been especially difficult lately because he’s been so smug. He hasn’t accepted any responsibility lately. At the beginning, when it first all happened, he was humble and apologetic. He understood what he did was wrong. He acted like a real man, owning up to his indiscretions.

Lately, though, as we get closer to finalizing the separation, and finally separating all our assets (ie, the house), he has become this self-righteous twit, attacking me with every text he sends.

Perhaps it’s because any semblance of control he thought he had is now ending. The papers have been signed and all that is left is the court’s judgement.

So, how do you forgive someone for not just one heinous act, but for revolting behavior that lasted for almost a year, when he doesn’t assume any responsibility for it. Not only that, he literally blames me, telling me if I’d been a better wife, he never would have had to cheat.

Literally, that was a text message I received. “…had to cheat.” What goes on in a person’s mind, how warped does it have to be when you genuinely believe that you “have to” cheat?! Now, I get how infidelity occurs. I understand how a person can even justify an act of infidelity. But to betray me for over 10 months with multiple “lovelies” around the country? And then come back home for the weekend to berate me and tell me how awful of a wife I am?

Yeah, that I can’t wrap my head around.

All the while, I am *trying* to maintain the house, raise our daughter, run a brand new business, run around like a maniac, take our daughter to all her things, just so he can travel as much as he can “for work” but really, it’s to sleep with more lovelies.

Yeah. I absolutely cannot forgive.

Not yet, at least.

So the storm rages on. The poison slowly erodes my patience, my kindness, my ability to respond with grace. Well, I haven’t been able to respond with grace for months now. The aggravation is just far too intense.

Which tells me that I must forgive. Because it’s for me and not for him.

But – oh. my. goodness, that just feels so impossible.

So maybe I can just give myself permission to hate him – for now. To understand that his behavior is harmful, venomous, even. And not worry about forgiveness just yet. The pressure I have put on myself to try to find a way to forgive him, to respond to him with grace, is just as emotionally taxing as it is to deal with him and all his abusive rants.

I know that it takes a remarkable inner strength to forgive and to respond with grace. I just don’t have that in me right now.

I read a post on Instagram that really hit home:

Closure doesn't come from another person. Closure comes from a peaceful acceptance and surrender that we have internally." 
- Vienna Pharaon

Yep. Nothing internal is peaceful right now.

I struggle with self-worth, with the concept of being valuable to a partner. I feel unloveable – romantically. I don’t believe I’m capable of being in a successful relationship. I don’t believe in my ability to fall for a man that truly loves, values, or respects me. I have allowed my ex to ruin that side of me – and now it has to be built up again.

And that will take time.

And, oof, so much inner strength.

So, I’d rather put my efforts into remembering that I could be an asset in somebody’s life, that just maybe someone could see my worth, that I could be treasured, rather than try to forgive someone who is unable to be a man and face what he actually did to his family. He didn’t just break one marriage vow. He didn’t simply “cheat.”

What he did was far more destructive than that. And incredibly multi-layered.

Which is why I cannot forgive. Not yet.

life, love

Only the Beginning

A Graceful Catastrophe 
 How long can you wait for the one you deserve?
Light on, never let it out, never let it out
If I'm gone, if you ever leave I hope that you learn
To fight on, to fight on

Don't tell me this is all for nothing
I can only tell you one thing
On the nights you feel outnumbered
Baby, I'll be out there somewhere

I see everything you can be
I see the beauty that you can't see
On the nights you feel outnumbered
Baby, I'll be out there somewhere 

- Outnumbered
Dermot Kennedy

As much as I’d like to think that I’m hardened against the world and I’m protecting my heart from any kind of future pain, I just cannot deny who I am.

I am a hopeless romantic.

I always have been. Now I know I always will be. If this catastrophe (and yes, you lovelies that continue to read my blog, cringe all you want at that word, that’s exactly what occurred in my life 130 days ago, by definition. And hey, thanks for being a reader, by the way! *wink*) didn’t break me from believing true and beautiful love exists, that someone will treasure me and respect me one day, then nothing will. It’s who I am to my core, I guess, a beautifully naive and hopeless romantic.

It’s one part of my essence that was not altered. And I’m truly grateful for it.

But, it means that I cry whenever I hear this song. Like, ugly cry. It doesn’t matter where I am, or what I’m doing, if I hear this song, it’s over.

Because I want so desperately to believe it’s true.

So many of my nights, I feel outnumbered. I feel the weight of this chapter putting so much pressure on me that it physically affects me. And some days – goodness, so many days – it takes all my energy just to stay upright.

Since hearing this song, though, my perspective is starting to shift slightly. When it all feels so heavy that I just don’t want to get out of bed, I now think of these lyrics. Somebody out there is meant for me. And he will help to remind me of who I am on the dark days that I forget.

How long can I wait for the one I deserve?

A lifetime, if I have to.

I’m on a path I never expected to be on, really. Our marriage was crap for a long time, I just never thought it’d ever really end. I figured we’d finally decide to fight for it. And when I did, it was too little, too late. He was already long gone – I just hadn’t realized it yet.

So now, I have this journey to go on that I’ve finally started to embrace. I mean, it is what it is, so may as well make the best of it. So, now, my philosophy is: if it makes me nervous, I say yes. If I hesitate for any reason, I know that I must jump in with both feet and I muster all the energy and confidence I have to actually go through with it. But I do it.

And because this is now my attitude, amazing things have happened! I’ve met the most incredible people and have had the loveliest of connections. I’ve gone on midnight motorcycle rides that have taken me places I’ve never been, hiked a mountain with strangers, some of whom became people I want to learn as much about as I can and would be so sad if they weren’t in my life anymore, and I’ve had countless other encounters that have filled my soul.

And this is only the beginning.

One of my favorite things about this journey so far is that I’ve learned that people are good. Honestly. I learned that. I used to be so skeptical and ready to mistrust. Now, I have this incredibly beautiful faith in humanity once again.

My energy is changing and it’s changing for the better. This whole attitude of saying yes and just truly living in the moment has inspired a sense of freedom I don’t think I’ve ever had. And I’m getting rather addicted to it.

I’ve never felt stronger, braver, or more empowered. I am showing my daughter that even though we may fear something, it doesn’t mean we avoid it. On the contrary, it means we embrace it wholeheartedly. That never used to be my philosophy. I used to be so cautious. So incredibly cautious that I think I stopped actually living. I stopped enjoying the moments and being silly and free. I’m sure that absolutely impacted my marriage. (But I also had to always be on point, always the consistent parent, always the responsible one. There really wasn’t much balance or sharing of the parenting responsibilities, which was exhausting.)

Actually, now that I just wrote that, something so obvious just struck me. Life changes us. Okay, duh. I told you it was obvious. Seriously, though, without even realizing it, one day we are somebody we don’t recognize. Someone stuck in the rut of life. We slowly become the person we need to be in the situation at hand. Okay, maybe not everyone gets stuck, but I surely did.

I’ve always been strong, a bit reckless, and someone who desires adventure.

But life changed me. Having a daughter being born so sick we almost lost her devastated me. Having a husband who had a hard time finding the line between responsible adult and perpetual 14 year old was exhausting. I felt I had to become someone else in order to maintain balance in our lives.

And now I have this life. One where I am free to be free.

One where I am free to be me.

And I refuse to lose myself again. It’s interesting, going through this journey at almost 40. The first time, when I left my first husband, I was in my late 20’s and I thought I knew who I was and what I wanted out of a partner, out of life. I really did. Now, though, it’s different. And I’m not so naive as to believe that in another 10 years, I won’t have an entirely new perspective and outlook on life. In fact, I hope to continue to grow and adapt and flourish.

So, how long will I wait for the one I deserve?

Well, here’s the thing. I now know what I deserve. I know what I want out of a partner. I know I want to chase down adventures with him and laugh and have deep, meaningful, and emotional conversations. I want to be with someone who is completely smitten by me and treasures me like the gem that I am, even in the moments…no, especially in the moments when I’ve temporarily lost my shine. I want to be with someone that helps me to flourish and blossom and I long to be in a relationship where we constantly elevate one another to the next level of awesomeness.

And the moment it all stops, I know to give it my everything, to devote my energy to the honest effort that a relationship deserves, and then to get out if it still is no longer fulfilling.

Life is simply too short to waste a second on something that, after thought, effort, and consideration, is still broken.

I have seen friends’ husbands who genuinely adore their wives. I know it exists. I know, in my heart and into the depths of my soul, that there is someone out there, ready to point out everything I can be and show me all the beauty that I can’t see.

And I will wait a lifetime for him if I have to, all the while having a blast solo, and saying yes to all the things that scare me.

So to quote Mark Groves, I will end with this:

"And just when you think it's the end, it will be the beginning. You will find someone who will learn the nuances of your soul. Who will be able to predict the tears on your cheek so they may catch them and turn them into a river of desire. They will break the cage that protects your heart so the same light that fills your cells can fill theirs. They will learn why you do everything you do so that in the fleeting moment of fear you will run to them. And if there should be moments of despair, you will land in their arms so they may carry you so high that the only fall you will experience will be in love."

I am not only trusting my journey, I’m skipping down my path with a joy in my heart and a strong conviction that all is unfolding as it should. (Well, the skipping and joy may not be there everyday, but I at least feel it on some days and for now, that is enough for me.)

So, with that same zealousness, I will no longer be here, merely existing. But I will live with more enthusiasm and zest than I have in years.

Because a great many adventures lie ahead in my future. This is only the beginning.

life, love

One Breath at a Time

A Graceful Catastrophe

Since I’ve had teeth, I’ve bitten my nails. Years ago, I made the decision to finally stop biting my nails – for the 34,000 time of my life – and finally succeeded.

Recently, I started biting my nails again. When I’m feeling highly anxious, my fall back habit since childhood is to bite my nails. You know I’m struggling internally when the skin around my thumbs are wrecked and I no longer have long, beautiful nails. Last night, I looked down at my hands and realized that not only are my nails gone, the skin around most of my fingers is looking pretty raw. Great. That looks attractive and feminine. *rolls eyes*

I’m riddled with anxiety and a million difficult emotions. Obviously. It’s been less than 4 months since my ex’s lovely emailed me and broke the news of the double life. I’m still being randomly blindsided by new feelings of betrayal that slowly simmer into awareness.

But this next month just makes everything worse.

On July 7th, 9 years ago, our friends gathered the three of us at their place and proposed to us, telling us we were going to be married in exactly one month and every detail was either already planned or in the process of being arranged.

On July 12, 2002, I married my first husband. That relationship ended after being together for almost 10 years and the divorce finalized in August of 2008.

On July 21st, 2009, my ex’s birthday, he proposed to me – in the sweetest and most perfect of ways.

On August 7, 2009, I married my now ex in the most fantastic wedding ceremony a bride could dream of – our friends really pulled together an incredible celebration of love.

So, these last few days and the coming weeks are all just painfully awful reminders of failure. I have no clue how to have a successful marriage, how to love and be loved in the ways of fairy tales (which do exist because I see the evidence of fairy tale bliss in my friends’ marriages all around me), or how to be enough of everything necessary to maintain a successful (romantic) relationship.

I just want to run away and come back in September, when all of the pain isn’t magnified by the memory of these dates.

It’s funny. If you were to have seen me today, you wouldn’t have guessed that I was struggling. I put a smile on. I look out to the world with eyes that shine. Because what else am I to do? Allow myself to actually fall into the abyss? Never. I worry that it’d be far too much effort to climb back out. I worry that the grip of this great sadness and the weight of my failures would overtake me. So I fight it. Fake it ’till I make it. I absolutely refuse to allow this chapter of my life to take this smile off my face – even if it’s fake.

But, the truth of the matter, guys, is that, for the most part, it is fake. And it has been for the vast majority of the last 116 days. Sure, I get crazy happy with the “good” in my world but I think it’s because I’m so desperately craving good. No matter how minutely small, I feel it to my core and it absolutely thrills me. Those moments are real. They’re also fleeting.

I’m also fiercely desperate for validation. Logically, I know that I create my own worth. I validate myself and I am enough.

Logically.

Emotionally, the massive feeling of emptiness is breathtaking, really. The void that I’m trying to fill within is far greater than I think I can even begin to comprehend. I’m so grateful that I have an extraordinary therapist to help me work through all these tangled emotions because there is no way I could do this on my own.

And with his help, I hope to one day be able to answer these questions: How on earth do I come back from this? How do I repair the damage within? How in the world do I believe my heart if it tries telling me it’s in love? TWO failed marriages, my friends. And both husbands ended up being manipulative and verbally and emotionally abusive. I saw the warning signs in the first, but failed miserably to see them in the second. I truly suck at this game.

But…I want to be loved again. I just don’t think I’d ever trust myself of being capable of choosing correctly. But then again, I’ll never hurt like this again, so why overthink it all? And it’s not even been 4 full months, so it’s not like there’s anything to worry about in this moment. But I think about it anyway…

So then I fall further down this rabbit hole of over-analyzing everything in my world – do I want to be loved again because I am so hungry for validation? Because I ache for the day that I am enough for another? Because I fancy the fairy tale story, too?

Am I looking for love for all the wrong reasons? The precious little seed of love doomed before it even has a chance to blossom? Why on earth am I even looking?!

Goodness…sometimes it’s all just a bit too much. I know I want to run away. I also know that I cannot. Running would never be an option.

So, I feel it all. I try, in vain, to make sense of it all.

I am hopeful that I will look back on these days and understand they launched me into a wild and wonderful future. Until then, there’s nothing much else to do. So I plaster a smile on my face. And then I take my next breath.

love

Fairy Tales are Simply Nonsense

A Graceful Catastrophe

I used to be such a romantic. I’d cry at love songs and sappy romcoms. I used to love it when a boy made me a mixed tape, listing all the songs that made him think of me.

I used to believe in fairy tales. And I honestly thought they could happen in real life.

Now, some days I feel like a zombie, operating in full-on survival mode, functioning with a smile on my face that is only surface deep. Faking it ’till I make it, not daring to show those around me the insurmountable pain I feel, for fear of it consuming me if I acknowledge it exists.

Other days, I legitimately feel like a freaking rock star. Like I have everything under control. And on those days, in those moments, my smile stretches widely across my face and travels deep into my soul.

I’m living in two worlds, with a foot planted firmly in each.

I’ve thought a lot about why I have my zombie days. I mean, it’s not like my marriage was great before he cheated. It sucked. And it had sucked for years. I had told those closest to me that it felt like I was trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. It was never going to happen; it wasn’t ever supposed to fit.

So, why am I so affected by this? I’m free from a lousy marriage! The things that annoyed me about my ex are no longer anything I have to put up with anymore! I can stay in Colorado, for Pete’s sake!! (For those that do not know, the plan was for us to retire in FL. I do not like FL and was absolutely not looking forward to having to move from my Utopian CO to live there. Bleh.)

I think the thing that really gets to me is how it all went down. I don’t quit. Especially something like a family. I would never abandon my family like he did. When I was chatting with a good friend about the possibility of divorce, my friend asked me if I’d done everything in my power to save the marriage. Could I walk away with a clear conscience that every avenue was pursued, a good fight was fought, but just lost.

And I couldn’t. I couldn’t say that I’d put forth any effort into saving the marriage, to be quite honest. So, in that moment, I decided to try. Like, really try. I wrote a 3 page letter, front and back, and cried as I read it to him. I owned all my faults. I made myself so vulnerable. I thought, if I laid it all out on the table, if I admitted to all the moments I was an awful wife, we could grow together from there.

I read him the letter this last fall. He’d been cheating on my since the previous spring. I was too late – he was already gone.

I made myself so embarrassingly vulnerable to him, and I genuinely thought he had heard me. How preciously naive I was. And then 6 months later I found out he’d been cheating on me for a ridiculously long time. What a fool! I was lied to for almost a year and I ignored my gut when I had a feeling something was off. The levels of betrayal run so deep.

I was humiliated.

That’s where my anger is coming from, I think. That’s why I hurt straight down to my core.

I put everything out there. Left my heart unprotected, let my guard completely down. So that I could try to save my family and if I failed, I could at least say I did everything I could to keep us together.

But he can’t say that. Rather than expose his soul to me so we could grow together, he withdrew emotionally and fell into the arms of woman after woman. For months and months. Then came home and complained about what an awful wife I was.

Oh, I can feel the rage building right now.

And this makes me so mad because if I can be played for a fool so easily by the one person that I thought I knew so well, how on earth could I ever trust anyone to not do the exact same thing?

I’m jaded. And I hate it. I don’t want to feel this way. I mean, I don’t think I even believe in monogamy anymore! Everyone I know has a story. EVERYONE. I’ll never allow someone to make me feel this way again. Which means, I have to remain guarded. I can’t be vulnerable. It’s inevitable that I’ll just get hurt.

So why bother?

I know, I know. Two months. It’s been 70 days. I get it. I know what you’re going to say. The road to healing has only just begun to be traveled. I get I’m still in the early stages. And it’s impossible to really make any progress with him still living in the basement, still here to lose his ever loving mind around me whenever I do or say something that upsets him.

He’s not the easiest person to deal with. And now that I am so emotionally closed off, neither am I. Vulnerability, especially around him, is obviously not safe. I have to guard my emotions, guard my heart. I’ve already been a fool for the last year. I won’t allow that anymore.

But that means I come across as cold. Unfeeling. Uncaring.

Well, duh. *face palm*

I have to protect myself now from the person he’s shown himself to be. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

There won’t be a second time.

So when I want to escape, when I want to run away, I think it’s coming from a place of shame more than hurt. Shame that I didn’t know. Shame that I opened up, accepted blame, and put my heart tenderly in his hands – only for him to spit on it before throwing it away, tossing it haphazardly over his shoulder.

The hard truth? Our marriage, in my opinion, was inevitably going to end. He’d asked for a divorce about 9 or 10 months before he cheated. I told him no, I wasn’t going to quit the family. I didn’t believe in just giving up. I didn’t believe in abandoning the family (because that’s what I equated it to) just because we didn’t want to get our hands dirty and try to make the marriage better. I told him that we needed to work on our marriage, that I believed we could have a happy life together. So I denied him the divorce.

And then neither one of us chose to work. Neither of us tried. We both waited for the other one to change. It took me well over a year to finally get to a place where I was all in. But it took him 9 or so months to decide to throw us away and sign up for Ashley Madison.

I was too late.

I loved him. He can be such an amazing human. I married him for a reason.

And now I don’t know him. I don’t trust him. I have no clue where his morals lie.

So on the hardest of days, I completely shut down. I go out with my girls, probably drink a little too much, and try so hard to erase the shame of being such a fool, for being so hopeful and vulnerable, for being so extremely naive.

Because I had no clue, when I exposed my heart to him, that he was looking at me with eyes that had looked deep into another woman’s. That when he hugged me, he was hugging me with the same arms that had been wrapped around another woman’s body. Many other women’s bodies. And this had been going on for months and months.

How could I have missed it???

I’ll never miss it again.

Because vulnerability is too risky.

There is no fairy tale. No Cinderella story. Perhaps there’s no such thing even as true love.

I’m sure the days of operating like a zombie will pass. I’ll find a new normal and thrive there. I’ll have fun and make connections with others, but it’ll be a long time, perhaps never, before I place my heart in someone else’s hands.

I just don’t trust that they wouldn’t eventually spit on it, too.

I’ll never allow myself to walk into another relationship with eyes naively closed, blinded by love. Another person will never throw me away again.

My days of being a blindly trusting, naive little fool are over.

Walls up. Guards up. My castle is well protected. And will remain that way indefinitely.

Because those precious fairy tales I grew up watching? The ones my daughter watches and then, at the happily ever after, smiles through her tears and gives a little sigh?

They don’t exist.

It’s not better to have loved and lost. It’s better to not love at all so you can never be betrayed or hurt.

Because fairy tales, quite simply, are all just a bunch of nonsense.

life

Everyone Needs a Lighthouse

A Graceful Catastrophe

According to the National Park Service’s website, a lighthouse “is a tower with a bright light at the top” and its purpose is to “serve as a navigational aid and to warn boats of dangerous areas.”

I am in a boat. And I’m out sailing the turbulent waters of this catastrophe, in areas of the vast sea that appear ever so scary and dangerous.

You all, well, most of you, are my lighthouses. You shine your bright light straight into my soul, illuminating my path, cautioning me away from the dangerous areas. You remind me that my actions impact my daughter…because I’m not sailing alone. You remind me that I am strong. You remind me that not only should I live my life with grace and class, I am also fully capable of it.

You remind me that my feelings are valid. That anger is an appropriate response at this juncture. I’ve only been navigating this storm for 2 months. You remind me that it will get better. You remind me that I am not alone. You share your stories with me, giving me perspective from the other side.

You envelop me with love. So. Much. Love! You make it so that I can hold my head high and choose to live with compassion. Because you remind me of how loved I am. And when you’re loved unconditionally, you are capable of anything.

You. My lighthouses. You have helped to navigate me away from such nasty waters, ones that I almost sank in.

Tonight, I’ve found a patch of calm sea. I’m drifting in a bit of peace. Because you’ve given me the strength to steer my boat out of danger.

I appreciate you for lifting me up, for shining your beautiful light in my direction, for helping guide me back to who I am at my core.

Tonight, after being home for all of about 5 minutes, my ex and I had yet another heated exchange. I told him, again, that I hated him. And then I went to my room and read and re-read your messages to me. Love flooded through me. And soon enough, so did my internal strength. I want to give grace. I want to be understanding. He’s the father of my child. A man I have a lot of history with and someone I wouldn’t have ever married had he not been a good person. He may not deserve grace right now, but I want to give it to him. After spending some time breathing and reading your messages that were all filled with beautiful love, I went downstairs and asked my ex if we could talk.

And we did.

It started a bit rough, but I was filled with your light and your love, so I was able to remain calm. Eventually, his anger dissipated. You know, I am not someone who enjoys being filled with hate. I am a peaceful, compassionate, and loving person. It just takes so much awful energy to feel such an intense negative feeling. It is toxic and I don’t enjoy who I am when I’m filled with it.

So tonight, I was able to let it go. Again.

I’m angry. Hurt. Sad. Emotional. I mean, I’m pretty much a general mess. But I’m not filled with that rage and hate anymore. It is no longer all consuming. I was able to let it go – and without punching something this time. And I feel so much lighter again.

These blogs are personal. They’re raw. And they’re written in real-time. So because of that, I am able to receive your unconditional support and love in real time. I receive your beautiful light and it shines so strongly into my soul that it is overwhelming and brings me to tears, in a most amazing way. Thanks to you, I was able to process through this negative space of the last several days without resorting to behavior that I could potentially regret (like a broken hand).

And my ex and I are in a decent place once again. He apologized. I apologized. We want to be better to one another. To do better. I know he genuinely wants to improve how he responds to the stressors in his life. When it comes to stress and choosing how to respond – with fight or flight – he has pretty much always chosen to fight. He gets backed into a corner and he lashes out. It isn’t right – and he knows that. And just like Maya Angelou says, when you know better, you do better.

I know better, too. I know that the best way to approach life is with grace, compassion, and understanding. You catch a whole lot more flies with honey than you do with vinegar…isn’t that the saying?

At times I’m so hurt that I feel broken. But you put me right back together. You lift me up, taking turns when it all just gets too heavy for any one of you. But there has always been someone else to take your place, jump in, and show me love.

So, thank you for that message. I am paying it forward and showing my ex that same message. And hopefully he can learn how to pay it forward and show grace and compassion when life gets just a little too uncomfortable, rather than go on the attack.

We live what we know. I am fortunate enough to know unconditional love from so many different people. Now that I’m filled with it, I want to live that love you all have shown me, time and time again.

I am not broken. Maybe I’m cracked. And I’m definitely not shattered. My boat is intact for the most part, though perhaps taking on just a little water. I have the resources necessary to make sure my boat doesn’t sink. I won’t drown. And I’m beyond grateful for those resources.

I am choosing to live with grace again. I am choosing to use my resources to help me grow and have a better tomorrow than I did today. My boat will be stronger every day…because of you all.

My ex may not deserve the grace but deep down, he is a good person. He’s just lost. We live what we know and I want him to know that there are better ways to respond to stressful, awful situations than to lash out and attack. He needs a lighthouse. Perhaps I will start building one for him, one beautiful brick at a time, built with compassion, grace, and understanding.

Everyone needs a lighthouse.

life, Uncategorized

Screw It All

A Graceful Catastrophe

Screw it. Screw it all.

It appears that I have a breaking point.

It’s today.

My ex husband shared with me today that a “longtime friend” has betrayed me, too.

This is just one betrayal too many.

It has been an awful week so far, with so many stones thrown at me. I thought I was strong enough to hear his malicious words, spitefully attacking me…but I am not. Rather than let them bounce right off of me, I absorbed them. All of them.

Guys, I’m done.

I want him to hurt. I want to intentionally cause him so much emotional pain that it physically hurts him. He’s been accusing me of purposefully hurting him all the while anyway, so why not just lash out and do exactly what he thinks of me anyway?

The rage and hurt and frustration and anger have all reached a violent boiling point. It has consumed me. It is literally all I feel right now.

He has accused me of not giving him grace.

He believes, with every ounce of his being, the world he has painted. So I may as well jump in the painting and show him that reality.

I. Am. So. Done.

Living life with grace is for the birds.

My daughter can learn a different lesson.

One where a strong woman can fight back against the emotional abuse of a disgusting and broken individual. One where I don’t have to tolerate being spoken to with such venom spewing out of his mouth.

Amongst other vicious attacks, he claims I am weak because I don’t make enough money to support myself and my daughter or be able to stay in this home without his money (which I cannot, but it surely doesn’t make me weak!). He laughs that I have to turn to my dad for help.

I HATE that I have to ask my dad for financial support.

I HATE that this is the world I now live in.

I HATE that I can’t trust.

I HATE him.

He has thrown all the stones he can think of in the last two days to intentionally hurt me. And he won. He did it.

So now I’m done. I’m angry. And hurt. And sick to my stomach. And I can’t sleep. And, really, I’m just done.

He wins. He’s gotten inside my head.

He’s beaten me down.

I quit.

I have no desire to live life with grace or class or anything that gives him an ounce of kindness right now.

I mean, I’m nice enough to him in front of my daughter…but I am done when she’s not around. He doesn’t deserve it and I’m too exhausted to muster the energy to give it.

I’m not strong.

I can’t do this anymore.

Today, I am defeated.

It took just a bit over 2 months. Two months of trying to be strong. Of trying to be the bigger person. Two months of fighting for my sanity every single day. Two months of being on the worst emotional roller coaster I’ve ever been on.

Two months. And I’m exhausted. I just can’t do it anymore.

I hope it’ll get better from here someday, but for now, I’m sure it’s going to get ugly.

Because I don’t care anymore.

Actually, that’s not entirely accurate. I care so much that I am so emotionally defeated that I can’t care anymore.

And definitely don’t care about him.

There is just too much to process. Too much pain. Too much stress.

It makes me physically ill. Drained.

He thinks he hasn’t been receiving grace thus far. I wonder what he’ll think of my new attitude towards him…? He has no clue, apparently, just how graceful I have been.

For the last 2 months, he’s been on the attack, throwing stones left and right. Calling me names. Some days were better than others. Some days we were able to finish out the 24 hours without a single stone being thrown. A lot of days have been an absolute living hell.

Oh, man, the stones that he has thrown in the last 2 days alone…

And, tonight, I finally threw some back.

And will continue to throw them.

Because I just don’t care.

It’s like he forgets what he’s done, the tailspin he’s thrown my life into, his daughter’s life… He takes no responsibility for it. Shows zero accountability. According to him, his actions don’t matter because I deserved it all. His actions are all justified because I was an awful wife. (And I was…because I retaliated for being treated awfully. We were stuck in a horribly sad, negative cycle.) But they aren’t justified and weren’t deserved.

“Romantic love” is stupid. Romantic love won’t exist in my world…not for a long time. Possibly not ever.

It’s just not worth it. It’s not worth this. When Alfred Lord Tennyson said it’s better to have love and lost than to have never loved at all was obviously not betrayed by people he thought loved them.

First, my husband. Now, at least one friend. I just can’t take it. It’s all slightly too much for me.

So, yeah, that’s been a thing. He talks with my “friends,” apparently. And my “friends” are talking about me behind my back. Awesome. I needed more betrayal in my life. More proof that nobody is to be trusted.

Fine.

Talk.

But could you at least be adult enough to tell me to my face what you think of me?

Because I don’t want to have to waste my time on you, too.

We’re all so old now. Grow up.

So, if you’re a long time friend, I guess you have to prove that you’re really my friend. And not talking smack about me behind my back. It’s going to be a long road.

Because now I trust no one.

I’m done.

I don’t have energy for nonsense.

And my life is filled with things that just don’t make sense right now.

God, I just want it all to make sense.

I want him to hurt as badly as he’s making me hurt.

So grace is gone. For now. Probably for a while.

So I can hit him where it hurts.

Intentionally.

Purposefully.

Like he did to me.

Over. And over. And over.

I’m so done.

Today, I don’t care.

About anything (except for, obviously, my daughter).

Because I hate him.

And it’s consumed me.

At least for today.

And for tomorrow, I’ll never forget. I am a changed woman. And he especially isn’t going to like the new me.

So screw living life with grace.

In the long run, it just doesn’t even matter.

We’re born. We die. Nothing in between really matters.

So, I’ll join him in his crappy little painting for now. Show him what this reality of his that he’s painted really looks like.

Because it is ugly.

And I have no more energy to try to paint rainbows and butterflies.

life

Dear Ashley Madison Lovelies

A Graceful Catastrophe

I spent a good portion of today angry and frustrated. It isn’t all that often that I allow those negative feelings to consume an entire day of mine, but today it was, apparently, unavoidable.

I have a way with words. I typically am very capable of putting my thoughts and feelings into sentences that are able to be clearly read and understood by others.

The feelings I have from being betrayed by one of the very few people that I blindly trusted – by my husband – are just nothing that I can put into any form of coherent thought.

It’s more of a physical feeling, deep within my gut. When I allow it to consume me, I feel physically ill. Most of today, I felt absolutely sick. But, like, disgusted. Like I was forced to eat old, molded, putrid, rotted fish. Over and over. Bite after bite.

That’s as close as I can get to explaining what it feels like when I try to understand what my ex did to me and our family. It’s also the feeling I get when I look at him and fully understand that he has absolutely no clue the extent at which his actions have affected me.

And will always affect me.

I know he doesn’t understand because of his actions and words all day today.

Which constantly made me feel even worse. To know that he doesn’t understand, and to realize I am incapable of explaining it in a way that he can, drove me absolutely bonkers today.

I desperately want him to understand how I feel. I want him to truly visit the depths of the sea of anguish I now swim (and sometimes sink) in. But how could he ever when I don’t even quite comprehend how I feel?

I know I am so incredibly angry. I am disgusted. I am filled with rage and even hate. Lately, the ability to live with grace has been shadowed by so much negativity. The more he pushes back, the cockier he behaves, the more he tries to defend and justify what he did, the less I am capable of acting with any semblance of class or grace.

And he’s been home for so long now! When he was cheating on me for the last year, he was home for about 1 week each month (except during the 2 months after his accident, when he was home and I was taking care of him, the house, and our daughter, all while trying to work my new business… Ugh, I wish I knew then what I know now!) . Now that he’s not cheating, he’s barely been on the road! Coincidence? I think not.

It’s so hard to see his face, day in and day out. It’s even harder to hear him play the role of victim, which he has been doing more and more frequently. It consumes me with such fury that I know I need to head to a rage room soon because I definitely do not need to be punching another column in my kitchen…

Every time I think about what occurred during the last year of my life, I try to assign words to the thoughts and feelings swirling about. I fail every single time. But perhaps it’s impossible because words are rational and these thoughts and feelings are anything but.

My life was a joke – and I had absolutely no clue. Well, that’s not exactly true. I had a gut feeling, even talked to my best friend about it, but dismissed it quickly because I thought, no, not him. He’d never lie or cheat.

God, I was a fool! Listen to your gut, ladies and gentlemen. It doesn’t lie to us.

You now the other thing that made me so mad today? Apparently, he has shared this blog with some of the women he chats with on Ashley Madison. They read it and then text him, reinforcing his thoughts that he is a victim, that how awful I am to paint such a picture of him. I mean, they are women with letters after their names! They know! They told him, apparently, that I have portrayed him as a villain. And since they have titles, they absolutely know what they’re talking about.

Well, it’s a good thing you Ashley Madison women know my (ex) husband so well! How dare I show him in such a terrible light?! Of course I’m just a woman scorned, out to say horrible untruths about the man that did nothing wrong over the course of our marriage. He was the victim! If he did behave in any sort of unsavory way, it was simply because he was provoked! His behavior was always justified because I acted in such a way that deserved to be treated and talked to in such a manner. He was, of course, justified in his actions over the last year, too, because I didn’t show him love… Of course all of these blogs are written because I’m just hurt and want to attack him.

Barf.

I do not write this to throw him under the bus, as his precious friends would like to reinforce. I write this to not feel so alone. To process. To feel support from my community during a time when my heart – my life – is absolutely shattered. To try, desperately, to put words to the ugliness I feel within, down to my core. To rationalize this catastrophe. And I write to hear how maybe you assigned some sort of sense to it when you went through it.

I write to know that I will come out ahead and even stronger than before. To know that I will never allow something like this to ever happen to me again.

I write so that I can look back on these blogs and remind myself to never again be such a naive fool. To always listen to my gut.

Because, guys! I don’t remember things. Ever. I have the worst memory! And God forbid I ever forget how this feels.

So I write. I document. I process. I lean on you all (well, maybe not all. I’m definitely not leaning on you lovely Ashley Madison ladies).

So, let me speak directly to you, you Ashley Madison lovelies: understand that you have absolutely no clue who this man really is – you only know who he wants you to see.

And understand that I do not write to villainize (yes, that really is a word) my ex. It’s not always about him. I write, first and foremost, for me.

Because I will not forget this pain. Ever. I refuse. I will have these blogs to look back on as a constant reminder to never be fooled again.

I write to remember.

Uncategorized

I Feel Everything…So I Feel Nothing

A Graceful Catastrophe

*This was written on May 15, but I fell asleep before publishing it, so it’s referencing Tuesday night’s chaos.*

I feel nothing. I want to say nothing. I want to think nothing. I want to embrace nothing.

I feel nothing. I want to say nothing. I want to think nothing. I want to embrace nothing.

After last night’s drama, where I felt emotions ranging from fear to sadness to anger to extreme calmness, it is nice to feel nothing today. I have had a pretty quiet afternoon and evening. I have been pretty overwhelmed today. It started pretty much as soon as I woke up and remembered his actions from last night. I hate remembering.

Today I went down to the courthouse and started the tedious and long process to file for legal separation. I officially am the owner of not one, but two failed marriages. What a gem that is. I am starting to feel like Ross, from Friends. I can completely understand why he stayed secretly married to Rachel, to avoid divorce #3. I just can’t see myself being in any kind of serious relationship ever again. In order to be in a successful serious relationship, you have to let your guard down, to blindly trust. To allow myself to become so vulnerable that I’d willingly put myself at risk of feeling this much pain that my mind literally shuts down in an act of self-preservation is not something I’ll ever actively seek out. At least, that’s how I feel today.

Sometimes something happens to us that hurts so badly that the only response is to shut down. To feel nothing so that you don’t feel everything.

Today, I feel broken. He broke me. I hate writing that, to give him that kind of power. Yet, it’s exactly how I feel. Today, I am fully barricaded in my castle, with all the hazards and obstacles fully in place to prevent myself from falling again. I cannot feel this depth of anguish and despair again…I won’t. There’s only so much a soul can take before she breaks.

It sounds so dramatic. And I know I’m “young.” I also know that time heals most wounds. Being right here in the thick of it, though, it feels as though this wound is just too deep and has too many layers that need to heal to ever resemble anything unbroken again. Some hurts are impossible to recover from.

While this isn’t my first trauma I’ve ever experienced, it is the most multi-layered. The stacks of different kinds of pain that need to be processed are astounding. I also acknowledge that my history proves that I do eventually recover. The next greatest trauma that I experienced took me almost a full decade to come back from. And this is just so much worst. I guess time will tell.

For now, though, I will remain guarded and actively escape this awful reality as often as I can. Unapologetically.

So, if you talk to me and I seem a bit vacant or distracted, just understand that life, in that moment, is just a little too much to absorb. Or if I talk a little too much, I know you will listen. My life bounces between extremes right now. It’s either “feel all the feelings” or “feelings? Those don’t matter. Let’s bury them.”

It’s interesting. I’ve always been open and emotional (and oftentimes, an emotional mess with everything worn transparently for all to experience right along with me). My ex has probably asked me, with no exaggeration, 20 times in the last 24 hours if I’m okay. Because I’m super withdrawn – vacant.

I am okay. I will be great again. I will go back to feeling everything again. For today, though, I will remain safely inside my castle. And feel the void that is my current state.

Because if I feel anything, then I’ll feel everything. And I want to feel nothing.