Tag: mindset

life

5 years ago, and a lifetime

A Graceful Catastrophe

A Facebook memory popped up today that made my blood run cold. I literally got goosebumps as I read the words and remembered who I was 5 years ago.

There was a list of something that, man, I wish I knew what it was now, but apparently a good bit of that list resonated with me. And so, without any hesitation or understanding of what I was publicly saying, I wrote those words, and posted my thoughts.

I had no trust in my own capacity and freely told that to my FB community without understanding exactly how vulnerable that whole post was. (Now, I post super vulnerable and raw blogs with the full realization that that is exactly what I am doing.) And you know what is even crazier? I only JUST had that lack of self trust epiphany a few months ago in therapy. I had no idea that I’ve been living this life completely ignoring my internal voice because I didn’t trust it. *woah*

At least now I’m self aware and can work at regaining trust in my own self again – after decades of it being lost. And that’s probably why this memory stopped me cold today.

I still hesitate when listening to my gut. I still completely disregard that little voice. But now it’s quite transparent what I am doing and I can learn how to adjust my mindset and rebuild trust in myself again. Which is pretty cool, I think…to be able to understand I have an area of growth and I can choose to actually better myself through it…

You know, I haven’t written in ages. My life has changed dynamically from when I first started writing here. My ex and I have grown to be very close friends and I adore his partner – she’s a great mom and I’m grateful for her influence in my daughter’s life. What a 180!

And I have changed – so much. I went to Greece (I’m sure I wrote about this experience in an earlier blog), alone, just over a year after I’d written that fear laden Facebook post. I flew there to attend a private photography workshop (so I could learn how to use my camera) with 2 complete strangers, who were both men. And after I learned all the things from them, I spent 2 or 3 days in Athens all by myself. And on my very first day in Greece, with those two strangers (now turned good friends), I got a tattoo with the words, “strong, capable, enough.”

Because I was. I am. I always have been.

Others may not always treat me in ways that make me feel that I am strong, capable, or enough for them but I’m pretty sure it’s because I haven’t been strong, capable, or enough for myself – as is obvious in my old post.

But, little by little, I’m getting there. I’m more self aware now than ever in my life, and that’s got to count for something, right?

I am now a photographer as my profession, which brings my trip to Greece full circle. I’m just starting out, really, and attended my first photography conference just about 3 weeks ago. I went alone and without knowing a single soul. And there wasn’t any part of me that was afraid in any way. I was SO excited.

Me. The girl who was afraid of the outdoors after dark. Who was afraid of going to the grocery store, and who would never, ever dream of trusting herself to her own safety.

And, wow. Just wow. What happened in those 4 days changed me. Like, not just mentally, with everything I learned, and not just emotionally, with everyone I met, but on a true soul level. The me who was me on September 9 is no longer the me that is sitting here today. It was THAT dynamic.

Every single thing that happened during that conference helped me to grow. I respond to situations differently now than I would have before, had I experienced the same exact situation. I know how the old me would have responded. And I rather like how the new me is responding.

This new me values herself in a way that feels subtle on the outside (for now), but is churning, growing slowly, much like a wildfire, deep within. I feel this spark that was ignited there and it’s growing and, I’ve got to say, I’m really liking it.

It’s funny how pivotal moments to my whole “soul being” have occurred around photography. First in Greece, and now this past conference. The people in this industry are truly something special…and the connection was immediate and wild and beautiful and intense and unimaginable. Truly.

If I were still that woman (I want to say girl) from 5 years ago, I never would have gone to Greece and met 2 incredibly exceptional men who unbeknownst to any of us, jump started the career I am in today.

If I were still that woman from 5 years ago, I never would have been brave enough or ambitious enough to participate in a photography conference in another state and with absolutely no existing connection, no anchor, nobody to “keep me safe.”

That is one thing that has changed, thankfully. I feel entirely and perfectly capable of keeping my own self safe in public. I may still have trust issues with my internal voice, but there is NOTHING stopping me from diving head first into new experiences. Especially ones that will help me grow on multiple levels. Before, fear controlled so much of my life, but now, I am just so excited to see what growth occurs over the next 5 years from experiences created by being strong, capable, and enough…

And you! Well, I’ll leave you with this. If you are living in fear and doubt, to the extent that you avoid actually living a remarkable life – like I was – I invite you to do something that you would consider brave (just keep it safe, obviously). It may be something tiny to an outsider, but start showing yourself exactly who you are. You never know what kind of wildfire that small spark could ignite.

The lesson for myself in all this? I am, in fact, strong, capable, and enough. If for nobody else but myself.

And that is more than enough.

life, love

Eyes Wide Open

A Graceful Catastrophe

Since I’ve come home from Greece, I have felt unsettled. Apathetic. No desire to be here. Last night, a shift occurred. I’m starting to get my mindset right again. It started in the afternoon, when I had an appointment to get my lashes refilled by my dear friend (self-care people, it’s a thing!). She’s fallen off the exercise wagon and wants to get back on it. I’ve been eating (and drinking) my feelings for a solid 2 weeks and am up more pounds than I’d like to admit. We made a plan to be one another’s accountability partners. So, now I have to care. I am her support system.

That’s one.

My business brings me so much true joy. I worked 7 days in a row this week – and enjoyed every second. I adore the families I work for and am grateful I get to spend my days laughing with my kids. “My kids.” Because my students all become “my kids.” I genuinely love them. And my families. They become my family. And I become theirs. I’m their advocates both in school and at home. I want to protect them and push them and see them flourish. And my heart swells with pride when they succeed. I’ve never had more satisfaction earning an income than I do now. It’s wonderful. I want to care. I am their support system.

That’s two.

Over the weekend, my daughter and I went to the movies. We saw Frozen 2. The amount of tears I shed during that movie should’ve left me dehydrated. Guys, those songs!! They were written for me. It’s like the writers lived inside my head. I swear it. Just read some of these lyrics:

  • “…deep down I’m not where I’m meant to be? Every day’s a little harder as I feel my power grow. Don’t you know there’s part of me that longs to go… Into the unknown?”
  • “I don’t know anymore what is true, I can’t find my direction… Just do the next right thing. Take a step, step again. It is all that I can do to do…the next right thing.” 
  • “So I’ll walk through this night. Stumbling blindly toward the light. And do the next right thing.”
  • “I won’t look too far ahead. It’s too much for me to take. But break it down to this next breath. This next step. This next choice is the one that I can make.”

Aren’t those lyrics just everything?

So, yeah. I cried. The. Whole. Movie. And my girl? Goodness, nobody understands how to love me better than her.

She just gets me! She’d look over at me every now and then, and notice the tears silently streaming down my face. Every single time, she just kissed my cheek, held me tighter, and rubbed my arm. She said nothing. Just gave a quick kiss, then went back to the movie, while holding me tight and always rubbing my arm. Once, she offered me a new napkin because mine was destroyed. She noticed. Another time, she offered me popcorn. Because…well, food. But she never made it a big deal. Just kissed my cheek and turned back to the movie.

Afterwards, she didn’t ask any questions. She just loved me. In her own way. Which happens to be my way, too. She is literally the best, most insightful human. And she’s 9. (I remember asking my ex once, “How does our daughter understand how to love me and you don’t?” I think she was 7 at the time… Oh, hindsight, you devil, you.) I care about her more than anything else in the world. I am her support system – and she is mine.

That’s three.

And guys, there are so many more reasons to get my mindset right. To spend my moments intentionally. To enjoy this life that I am living right now and in this space.

Maintaining a consistently focused and intentional mindset is challenging. Even exhausting, at times. It takes commitment, and then re-commitment. I haven’t been in a healthy place since I came back from Greece. My time there was incredibly powerful. It fundamentally changed me in so many ways. I became re-energized and filled with a radiance I hadn’t felt…well, perhaps ever.

And then I came home.

Where life just all of a sudden felt so unimpressive. After the soul-searching journey and re-awakening that had just taken place, I came home to feeling like everything was just a little “less.” I wanted, no – desired – with every cell of my being, to feel what I had in Greece. It was everything. It was magical. It was surreal. And yet, it was ever so incredibly real.

So, yeah, my mindset sucked. I still felt vibrant and more whole and filled with love (self-love, that is) than ever, but I was feeling so unfulfilled. I didn’t feel like this was enough anymore. I had this strangely overwhelming need to leave. After experiencing the significant transformation in Greece, I became wholly dissatisfied with this life.

It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t magical. Or surreal.

But only because I’d decided it wasn’t any of those things.

This world we live in is painted by our thoughts. So, if my thoughts are constantly telling me that this isn’t enough. That I want more. That more is out there…then what kind of world am I living in now???

Well, for a while, one where I was eating all my feelings and drinking every night. Disappointed with the world before me.

Until last night.

When I remembered that’s not who I am. Not anymore, at least. Emotions guide me, sure. But they don’t control me. And yet, I let them.

And then I made the decision to grow up. This is my life. I am here. And it is truly a wonderful life. So, I made the conscious decision to embrace everything that is in front of me, rather than pine away over what I couldn’t have.

So now, here, I honor my emotions. And I release them. And I remind myself that the journey is beautiful.

I’m a dreamer. I want to look ahead and turn my dreams into plans. And at the same time, I’ve never been more certain that those plans just don’t matter. Everything can change in the span of a breath.

And it does. It will. Time and time again. That’s part of the journey. But just like sweet Olaf said in the movie, there is one constant. One thing never changes. And that is love.

Loving another, being filled with real emotions, being vulnerable with another…that is living authentically. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Does it hurt when it ends? Yep. Of course. But feeling the depths of those beautiful emotions is never a waste of time. I’d do it all over again. I will do it all over again.

There’s something so graceful in living – and loving – uninhibited and feeling every single emotion that washes over you. There is beauty in pain. Because you get the opportunity to grow. And really, isn’t that just wonderful? I want to keep growing and changing and absorbing everything I can to make myself a better human every single day. And you can’t grow without being challenged.

So, bring it on, world. Challenge me. Hurt me, even. Because then, and only then, I grow stronger. My fire flames brighter. I become more colorful. And so does the world around me.

After my workout this morning, one of my friends from the gym asked me how I handled the grief after finding out what my ex had done. Did I eat and gain a ton of weight? With him, I didn’t. Because I just didn’t eat. I couldn’t. I was physically ill for a long time and couldn’t even look at food. With another “breakup” of sorts, though, all I’ve done is eat.

How we handle our grief varies not only from person to person, but from our own personal experiences, too. How we handle one transition may be completely different than how we handle another. No grief ever feels the same. How our hearts handle each ending is unique.

But no matter how we choose to handle it, it’s the right way. I told my friend to allow herself some grace. It’s so soon that every way she’s choosing to react is appropriate. The fact, though, that she’s beginning to question how she’s reacting means that she’s perhaps ready to change how she’s handling her grief.

It’s all fluid. How I was handling my sadness since arriving back stateside has shifted. Because I was ready for it to shift. I had my good, cathartic cry at Frozen 2, several great conversations with some girlfriends, focused in on the good of my world, and then found the ability to shift my mindset. I needed to re-frame my reality. And so I did. It took me 2 weeks to get there, but when I was ready, I shifted. I felt it internally. And I couldn’t have forced it. I had to ride that wave out until I finally landed in calmer waters.

They’re there, you know. The calm. Sometimes you have to weather an incredible storm, or a short torrential downpour, but when you’re ready to look up and through the gray, the break in the storm is just ahead of you.

You just have to be ready – and willing – to see it.

It’s beautiful. The world each of us lives in. It’s fulfilling. And exciting. And full of adventures. And love.

It’s all there. Right in front of each one of us… That is, once we decide to open our eyes to it and shift our perspectives to see the abundance.

So here I am. Again. Re-set. And enjoying the view. With eyes wide open.

And I hope you are, too.

life

263 Days

A Graceful Catastrophe

Perhaps it’s because it’s the end of the year. Or because it’s my birthday month and I’ll be entering the last year of my 30’s in 25 days. Or because I’ve experienced some “endings” recently. But I’ve been feeling a strong sense of “the end.” I’ve thought a lot about my own mortality. Like, a lot. I’m more aware than ever that things just end. And they can change “in the blink of an eye,” as the saying goes.

I feel anxious and unsettled. I no longer feel as though I belong here. Not here in this world, but here as in physically here, right now, in this house, in this town…in this country, even. Don’t get me wrong. I’m quite happy. Happier than I’ve been in a long time. Now I just realize that there’s so much more! And I question, what am I even doing now? Why am I satisfied with this?

Well, as it turns out, I’m not.

It’s an interesting space to be in…to both want to make goals for my future and simultaneously understand that everything could change in the space of time it takes to receive and open an email. How do I make plans for when my daughter graduates in 7.5 years while also remembering that any plan I had on March 17, 2019 at 6:07 pm was annihilated by 6:08 pm?

I’m a dreamer. I always have been. And I have big dreams. No. Plans. I have these great plans in my head that I will make come to fruition. I suppose flexibility is key. Understanding that the only constant is change, so I’ll have to roll with the punches as life continues to move forward, bringing all the joys and catastrophes that it has a way of springing upon us.

What I’m realizing now, more than ever, is that I have to be careful. And intentional. The only way, I think, for me to get around this feeling of being unsettled, of feeling so lost, really, is to actively work towards achieving my goals. My goals, which I’ve rather ignored lately because, you know, life…they ground me. Goals firmly root me to the present while, at the very same time, give me hope for the future.

Which is so important. Because without hope, without some enticing and beautiful vision for the future, life becomes ever so much more challenging. At least, I feel that way. While I know that all the plans and goals I have today may change, I would be lost without them. They’re like a light that shines on my path, giving me a direction to follow. And because I know my path isn’t a straight line, I need that light to guide me.

With focus and intention, I keep taking one step after another, following my path wherever it may lead.

I have to trust the journey.

My eyes are wide open now. I’m seeing with more clarity than ever before. And I want to give this gift to my daughter, as well. The world is vast and magnificent. The adventures – limitless. We are so much more than what we think we know!

I used to say that Colorado was my forever home. I wanted to settle here and never leave. Now, I can’t imagine only knowing this state’s beauty for the rest of my years. My heart is calling me elsewhere. Currently, I left a piece of it in Greece. With future travels, I may leave pieces of my heart in other far-away lands, left as breadcrumbs to lead me back someday.

I can only hope that’s true.

When I got back from Greece, with my eyes shining from all the self-truths uncovered, my soul bursting with radiant joy, I was chatting with a couple girlfriends. One of them turned and said to me, “You are so much bigger than Colorado Springs.”

It touched my heart deeply when she said that. And that sentence has been tossed around inside my head since the second she said it.

We all are so much bigger than what we have in front of us…than what we think we are capable of…than what we assume we know.

We just have to act on it. Take giant leaps of faith. Charge through this life, with confidence, authenticity, and vulnerability, open to whatever stumbles upon our path and ready to unquestionably go forth in a certain direction, when we may find that fork in our road.

My journey over the last 263 days has been incredible. The growth? Immeasurable. The epiphanies? Monumental and truly life-changing.

But I think it’s because, at some point, I stopped fighting against it. I began to trust my journey and became open to everything, seeing obstacles as opportunities and embracing the challenges, rather than fighting against them and complaining about them. At some point, through conversations with others and intense self-reflection, I stopped being the victim of my circumstances and began to take charge of this new life and everything it has to offer.

Because, goodness, is it ever abundant.

I am filled with more sincere joy and love than ever in my life. I am more open to possibility and adventure. I am more vulnerable and authentic. My light shines brighter now than it ever has before. My world is more colorful and vibrant. I feel filled, deep down to my core, with overwhelming gratitude, peace, and clarity.

Seven and a half years will surely go by in a blink. My future awaits me. But, in order to reach it, there is much to do in quite little time. My goals are significant and will take considerable time and effort. And failure. Which only means opportunities for more growth.

It’s all part of the journey that I am now so eager to embrace.

When I first started writing this morning, I was in a bit of a melancholy mood. Viewing the “endings” that have recently come to light with a certain level of sadness. But it’s all about how we frame it, isn’t it?

My history, as broken as it is, fills me with gratitude. For it is because of my journey thus far that has made me more whole than I have ever been.

So, for today at least, I am taking full advantage of this winding path that I’ve been on and where it has lead me, honoring the grand voyage that is this life, and choosing the lenses with which to see it all.

And in case you’re wondering, those lenses are rosy colored. For me, they almost always have been and with positive intention, I’m sure they always will be.

This journey is bright and beautiful and twisty and filled with bumps and hardships and difficulties. There are endings and failures and opportunities and hope. Ultimately, it’s filled with purpose and intention and we take from it exactly what we want to, growing only as long as we’re willing to surrender to true vulnerability and face our fears head on.

There’s far more beauty in the last 263 days than I ever could’ve imagined. From once feeling completely shattered to now brimming with a sense of direction and wholeness I never could’ve imagined for myself.

I now know, without question, that there is more for me beyond what I thought I always knew. With every ending is a new beginning.

So, bring on the new year. And this last year of my 30’s. Because now, I can’t wait to see how it all begins.

life

I Hate My Life

A Graceful Catastrophe
No truer truth has been spoken to me in recent months.

Seriously. I hate it. How did I get here???

I see my daughter every other week. I get the equivalent of about 4.5 more years with her before she goes off to college. And that’s being generous.

I am traveling out of the country next week and spent the day trying to figure out how to not come home.

Because I don’t want to be around family. At. All. If I can’t have my daughter, I don’t want to be around anyone’s family.

I don’t want to be around happiness.

Not during Thanksgiving.

Sure. I have plenty to be grateful for…of course!

I’d be fine seeing single people filled with gratitude. And spending my time with those single people.

But absolutely no happy families. Because I don’t have a happy family.

So, I think I’ve decided to road trip. Just so I can avoid my life a little bit longer. Because I really hate this reality.

Today has been a struggle. All day long. I woke up upset. I cried during my workouts. I cried in between them. I cried when I came home from them. Then I had to pull it together so I could work.

And thank goodness I love what I do and who I spend my time with while at work. Because they made all the difference today.

But then, I had to come home…

And I remembered that I hate my life.

I’ll be 39 next month.

This isn’t where I’m supposed to be.

At least, not personally. Professionally, things are wonderful. I’m grateful for how I get to earn a living. I’ve never been happier, professionally speaking, than I am right now.

But personally? Ugh. Disgusting.

I’m ashamed of myself.

Truly.

Well, I wrote this Monday night, after a pretty terrible day where I was all up in my head and my feels. And, to be perfectly honest, after consuming a hefty-sized margarita.

Rather than erase/edit it heavily, I’m leaving it.

Guys, I am not as strong as I seem. I have my moments. I have entire days! I cried during my morning workouts Monday morning (feel free to check out my Instagram, where I made a brutally honest post). All of these emotions are exhausting to process – still. The roller coaster isn’t as wild and extreme as it once was, and I’m ever so grateful for that! Yet, I’m still on it. It’s still quite the ride. I’ve learned, over time, that when I’m not living with complete honesty – to myself and those around me – my days are much harder.

I have much more anxiety. I binge eat, and then feel terrible (at one point, I was up almost 20 pounds from 2 months ago. I’m dropping it back down, and doing so in a healthy manner). I pick at my cuticles (my M.O. for when I’m way too stressed to handle life). I don’t sleep.

When I’m living a dishonest life, one that lacks authenticity, it really messes with me – mentally and physically.

So, that means I have honest conversations with myself. Seriously. I look at myself in the mirror and ask myself, “What the hell are you doing?!” I also don’t tiptoe around others anymore. Not around strangers and not those closest to me.

This is me. I say how I’m feeling. I can’t – and won’t – hide my tears. Even though I want to run away, I refuse to hide.

People have told me that they gain strength from these blogs and from me. Every time I’m grateful, though I’m mostly shocked. I am not that strong. I’m exhausted. I want to run away. I AM running away. And lately, I feel like I sell out a bit of my soul for tiny moments of pure happiness, that come only when it’s convenient. But, for right now at least, I’ve decided that I want to feel that happiness – at any cost.

So, the roller coaster continues. Life’s imbalances continue. My emotions vary from day to day, week to week.

And then, I remember.

Just breathe, girlie. You’ve got this.

Bring it back to this moment right now. And then inhale slowly. And let it out…let it all out.

I did the incline yesterday morning. It’s like my form of meditating. It gets my mind right almost every single time – that workout rarely fails me.

Tuesday, November 5, 2019

What it does for me is so amazing. It’s transformative. And, it hit me, this journey is incredibly symbolic to life. I think that’s why I feel so wonderful every time, after I’ve completed it. It shifts my perspective. The incline is a perfect symbol of how to do life. You tackle this beast one step at a time, sometimes having to tread slowly and carefully, other times throwing caution to the wind so you can hustle to make your goal, and other times you find yourself crawling on all fours because you’re not sure how exactly you’ll make it to your next breath, much less your next step.

But you do! And then, you’re at the top, realizing it wasn’t as bad as it seems – it never is.

Sure, I mean, it’s been plenty bad. I’ve had moments in my life where I’ve felt hopeless, terrible desperation, and everything has just felt pointless. I can think back to specific times where I’ve just wanted to throw in the towel, so to speak, because the thought of doing anything else was simply too exhausting.

I have felt completely and utterly defeated.

There have been some dreadfully dramatic moments where I have cried, laying flat on the floor, face buried in my arms, until a puddle of my own tears formed beneath me.

And then, I breathe through it and another day comes. Because, really, I refuse to succumb to any other choice. For me, there is no other option other than to keep getting back up, no matter how badly I’ve gotten knocked down. Thankfully, I am surrounded by an incredibly strong and positive community, who oftentimes have done the heavy lifting and have picked me back up.

So, one way or another, I’ve always gotten back up.

And every single time, I’m able to stand a bit taller. I feel a bit stronger.

Then, I check in, reminding and reassuring myself that I am, indeed, strong. That I am “enough.” This is so new to me – to believe that I am “enough.” I want to make sure I now continue to realize that I am. Which means I must be aware so that I don’t fall into old habits.

Like I did Monday.

So, I am choosing to create these new habits. Ones where I remind myself who I am. And I keep myself honest, by self-reflecting regularly and asking myself the hard questions. Like, do my actions reflect a life being lived with authenticity? Do I tolerate nonsense because I don’t think I deserve better or is it because I’m choosing to give grace and be understanding? I’m almost constantly checking in with myself to make sure I understand my worth, that I continue to recognize my value. Then, I’m careful to not answer these self-imposed questions until I’m convinced the response I’m giving to myself is actually one I’m certain is the truth.

It takes work to battle my demons.

Yet, I’m finally realizing these demons I am fighting, the ones we all fight in whatever way they show themselves, are not signs of weaknesses. My greatest battles within – understanding my value and believing it, and giving myself grace – are what give me strength, in the long run. By continuously facing those demons head on, by writing them down publicly and not trying to hide them, by acknowledging out loud that I engage in these battles frequently, it reminds me I am human. And that I can use these broken moments to learn and grow.

I refuse to have a fixed mindset. Every single day I can become a better version of myself, if I choose to. Every time I acknowledge that my demons defeated me in certain moments, or for days, I am also acknowledging that I had the strength to face them and get back up again. I am reminded that it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was.

And that’s my big takeaway from being so in my head this last Monday. I was questioning myself, my integrity, my authenticity, my tolerance…everything, really. And I was beating myself up, refusing to give myself the grace that I deserve, and simply making “it” all bigger and worse in my head than what the reality of this life is.

It’s not as bad as it seemed on Monday. Life is good.

I actually love my life.

I’m beyond grateful for this journey.

Everything just is. Nothing is quite as bad as it seems. Nothing is quite as good as it seems either. No matter how we’re feeling, especially when we’re feeling the extremes, it’s all just so short-lived. The only thing certain is that it all will change. Everything is quite fleeting – situations, feelings, time…

So, I remind myself, once again, to breathe through the moments, especially those where my emotions feel extreme. Nothing lasts forever, at least not without constant effort to make it persist, and that’s true with both positives and negatives. What you feed is what will grow.

So, days like this past Monday will come and go. Days so much better than this last Monday will, too.

All I can do is continue to accept the journey, and breathe through all the moments. Because that’s all life is. Moments. And if we choose our focus correctly, they’re all good.

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

Basking in the Shit

A Graceful Catastrophe

I’m not entirely sure how many times I cried yesterday but tears were shed here and there for the majority of the day. Insult to injury because I just got my lashes done and you’re not supposed to get them wet for 24 hours. *sigh* It’s 8:35 am and I’ve cried a handful of times already this morning.

Yesterday, the trigger was that my week with my girl was over, she had to go to “daddy’s house.” I have spent virtually every single day of her life with her and now I’m forced to experience 50% of her life now. *cue the rainfall of tears again*

This all just sucks. So bad. My heart hurts for a million different reasons… (Ugh, I can’t see what I’m typing through the blur of my tears.) I still can’t believe this is now my life. In two days it will have been 4 months since finding out about my ex’s infidelity. It’s been 120 days. And I think I feel worse than than I did that catastrophic day – at 6:08 pm, March 17. In fact, I’d say I definitely feel lower now than I have in any of the last 120 days.

But I think I know why it’s worse now. I’m actually feeling now. I’m finally facing it. I was numb, in complete shock at first. I didn’t feel anything. And then I actively escaped for a while, avoiding facing my real life because how in the world is it that this is my real life??? That lasted for a good 2 or 3 months.

And now? My house is empty. My heart is empty. I feel a giant void within. I don’t want to feel that. How can one feel so lonely when surrounded by so much love?

I’m so sick of hurting.

I’m so sick of being triggered randomly.

I still want to run away.

And maybe I will. I mean, I only have my daughter every other week. Perhaps I should run away. I’m thinking a Thanksgiving adventure is a must. July 4 was super challenging. I cried and felt the sting of every second all day long. I can’t imagine how I’m going to feel without my girl that whole week. A week that is supposed to symbolize gratitude and family and love. Yep. I’m out. I’ll need a giant distraction for that one…

Until then, though, I’m here, swimming in the shit that no longer feels like it could be fertilizer (read my blog: Grateful for My Ex for the reference). It just feels heavy and dark and really, really toxic.

On the other hand, at least I’m feeling it. I’m no longer avoiding the pain. I know I have to ride this wave, process these negative emotions. If I keep shoving them aside, I’ll get nowhere but bitter. So as hard as this is, it’s finally time to face my reality. It just might mean that I’m going to have a harder time smiling a genuine smile now – and for a while. And that’s okay. I guess. This is part of the wave, part of the grief. And it sure doesn’t help that these next weeks are some of the worst of the year.

So, if you see me, understand that it feels like someone cut a huge part of me out. I feel vacant and hollow. I feel the enormous weight of this new life pressing upon me as though it were physically there, sitting on my shoulders.

But…I feel it.

And I think that’s progress.

It’s a bizarre place to be, though – feeling. Little things randomly cause such enormous pain. Hearing a husband call his wife, “my girl” with so much love and affection caused a lump to form in my throat and tears fell the second that I could turn away. The sadness feels almost unbearable at times.

Almost.

So, I wrote everything until now this morning, before heading out to work and then getting my hair done. I contemplated not posting it, leaving it as a draft as I have for 7 other blogs I’ve written, because it’s just so dark.

But you know what? So many of us have been here. This place where the sadness is so overwhelming it feels as though you’re drowning and you kind of don’t really mind – you want it to swallow you whole so the hurting can stop.

That’s where I was yesterday and this morning.

That’s not where I am now.

It’s a wave. A constant, fluid drifting of emotions. And I’m feeling them all. This blog is meant to be raw and real and a place for me to process. It also is turning into a place where my words resonate with some of you. So, why filter now?

Yes, I was in a dark place. No, it doesn’t mean I literally wanted to die or take on any direct action to hurt myself. I was just intensely sad.

But I didn’t let it consume me. Sure, I ate some cookies yesterday and went to the bar, solo, for a couple of margaritas (where I became fast friends with an incredible couple, married 29 years!). I also practiced self-care by going to the gym and then (FINALLY) getting my hair colored.

I feel like I’ve got this again. Am I still sad? Of course. Am I drowning in my tears? Nope. I won’t allow these negative emotions to consume me. I refuse to live in the dark place. So, I change my mindset. I focus on the good. I force myself to take direct action that will make my heart happy.

I allow myself to redefine this suck that I’m living in – and embrace it.

And I decide to turn the shit into fertilizer once again. And bask (using Google dictionary’s 2nd definition here: revel in and make the most of) in it. Because I know I am growing leaps and bounds every single day. 

 Even on my weakest days, I get a little bit stronger .
- Sara Evans
life, Uncategorized

90 Days

A Graceful Catastrophe

As I write this, it’s two days shy of 3 months since I received an email that completely and irrevocably changed my world. It’s been exactly 90 days.

When I left my first husband in January of 2008, a lot happened in those first 3 months. A lot of fun was had and life was carefree. Then, by early April, I was in an exclusive relationship with future ex-husband #2.

I can’t even begin to imagine trying to be in a relationship at this point. I mean, come on, let’s be real… I can’t think of ever being exclusive with someone again, but for sure not after 3 months! I was with my first husband from late 1998, when we’d started dating, until early 2008. Almost 10 years together. And just a bit more than three, short, insignificant months later, I was already in another relationship.

Ex-husband #2 and I were together almost exactly 11 years. I didn’t choose to leave him so the way this is going down is significantly different than with #1. My feelings, my heart, my everything, really, is completely changed. The way I perceive life has been catastrophically altered. After #1, I still believed in love. I still saw the world through a set of beautifully romantic lenses. Perhaps that’s why it only took me about 3 months to be in a relationship again.

There’s an interesting parallel that’s beginning to develop between the end of this marriage and marriage #1. After just about 3 months post leaving my first husband, I was ready to calm down some and re-focus my energies. It just so happened to be in the form of a new relationship with now ex-husband #2. Today, early this morning, a feeling from deep within started bubbling to the surface. I’m undergoing a bit of a transformation, something feels slightly different now, in how I’m approaching life and how I see the world around me.

So much has happened in 90 days, yet I still wonder who I am and I constantly question what I believe. I have moments of sadness that are so great that even breathing feels like an impossible task. I have super low lows and also pretty magnificent highs. And the rest of the time it just “is.” I run through the motions. I take care of my daughter. I workout and hang out with friends. We laugh. I cry. Some days, the moments range from feeling quite “normal” to catastrophic to incredible. All within hours of each other.

For example, yesterday was such a day. The morning was great. The afternoon was filled with sadness and I felt like a zombie, simply going through the motions. Then the evening was one of my favorites I’ve had in the last 90 days. That’s a lot of emotion to process in just one 24 hour period!

But that’s also the way it has been, day after day, one after another, strung together now for 90 days. There’s just so much emotion to process in each 24 hour period. And it’s been exhausting! I’m seeing hope on the horizon, though, that the sea is about to calm significantly, going into these next 90 days. I feel something shifting within and I’m curious as to where it’s going to take me.

I’ve learned a lot, I think, in the last 90 days. Mostly, about people. People are inherently good. I’m no longer afraid to talk to a stranger or go to Target after dark or sit by myself at a restaurant or bar. Literally, guys, these were things I didn’t do because the fear was so all consuming. I catastrophized and feared so much that it stifled my life. Now, so many of those fears and hesitations no longer exist. I’m becoming far more confident in who I am and in going after what I want.

Unapologetically.

I’ve spoken with more random strangers in the last couple of months than I probably have in the last 10 years total. And the freedom to just connect with other humans is so beautiful! It has opened up my world. I’ve experienced things that I normally wouldn’t have ever even tried before. I’m being introduced to new music, food, drinks, places…all because I have stepped out of my comfort zone (okay, I was thrown from it) and I’m creating a new comfort zone. I am free to reinvent myself and to explore life in a way I never have before.

It’s energizing. And exciting. And liberating.

On this journey of reinventing myself, I’ve had to do an insane amount of self-reflection. And over the last 90 days, I have reached some hard truths. I realized, finally, that I lost myself for a while. I threw myself into being not only a mom, but the best mom there could possibly ever be. I also was incredibly sick for years and, man, living with a chronic illness really changes you. And then, all of a sudden, I was this person who was not me. She just wasn’t Katrina. But nobody could’ve told me that. I would never have believed it.

I know that I was a big problem of why my marriage sucked. It takes two, for sure, but in talking with someone tonight, it hit me that I probably started the negative cycle we were stuck in by not reaching out and getting help after my daughter was born. I blamed myself for her traumatic birth and lived with that for way too long. I put my husband on the back burner because he was not a helpless little child that almost died because of his mother’s stubbornness. He was a grown adult who didn’t need me.

But he did. And it surely wasn’t fair for me to treat him like an afterthought. Not only did I just not know any better, it wasn’t a conscious decision. I didn’t even know that’s what I was doing. So he struggled, of course, with being an afterthought, and that also changed our dynamic. He wasn’t understanding or compassionate towards me. I viewed him as selfish – didn’t he understand why I couldn’t be anything more than a mom to this helpless little girl? But of course he didn’t understand. It is very difficult to understand irrational behavior and my behavior was exactly that. Like I said, I needed help. In those moments, though, I didn’t think I did. Hindsight is always perfect, isn’t it?

So here we are. 90 days later. The actions of our pasts are permanent and irreversible. We can be sorry for our parts we played and also understand that somethings are just too great to come back from. My ex’s cheating and lying for so long – that betrayal – is far too great to come back from. It changed me to my core and has made me question everything I thought I knew or believed.

It also put me on a path towards a new sense of freedom and discovery. There are no expectations, limitations, boundaries, and, most importantly, no fear. It’s incredible how much fear and worry I had. How it snowballed, too, and magnified my fear. And it’s even more astounding that it’s *mostly* been erased. I think it’s because everything I avoided out of fear was to keep me from being hurt (physically or emotionally).

I’ve now been so deeply hurt that I literally can’t put it into words.

The pain is truly indescribable. There isn’t much that could make me feel lower than I have in certain moments over the last 90 days. So my attitude and approach towards life is now just so free of concern. Because nothing (pretty much) will ever hurt this bad so why not take the risk and go for it? If I end up getting hurt, it still won’t be this bad, so it doesn’t even matter. To know that I am rising above this pain means that I am capable of rising above whatever adversity is thrown in my direction.

Well, except when we’re talking about that “r” word. That’s something where I am making a conscious decision to avoid at all costs. I’m surely not ready to consider being in a relationship. I may never want to go down that road, to be that vulnerable again. That’s pretty much the only thing that could make me feel this low, so out of self-preservation, there isn’t much need to be in a relationship. Ever. Well, that’s how I feel today. That level of connection is just not anything that needs to exist in my world. And I don’t want it to.

But I digress… Back to rising above! I think part of the shift I’m feeling today is that I’m focusing more on the positive life changes that my ex’s actions are bringing me. I’ve never felt more confident. I’ve never realized the strength I have within. On those extremely difficult days, I still survive. As exhausting as it is, I take a breath…and then another. I’ve survived through incredible pain that stems from a betrayal so deep that it’ll be a long time before I process all of those layers.

For 90 days now.

I’ve done a ridiculous amount of self-reflection. I mean, really looking at myself. And I have no regrets about who I am becoming. I’ve learned that I can be exactly who I want to be and that this moment, right now, is the only thing that is real. I’ve learned to live in moments, not days, weeks, months, or years. I’ve learned to let go of expectations and just be. I’m open to try things I never would’ve before. I’ve learned that living out loud is the most freeing and wonderful way to live.

Life is difficult. For all of us. Every single one of us has something we’re going through. If anything, I hope to inspire you all to live out loud. Unapologetically be who you want to be, even if it differs greatly from societal pressures. This is your life and you are free to pursue your happiness as you see fit. And you definitely do not have to live according to tradition or society’s rules. That is far too stifling and you end up losing yourself. Live in the moments of life and actively seek out those moments that make you smile as often as you can. Don’t worry about what tomorrow could bring – just be. Right now is the only reality that matters. It’s the only thing that exists.

At least, that’s what I am doing. And because of the freedom to live out loud, unafraid and uninhibited, I have had wonderfully fun experiences and have met more interesting people that I never would’ve even made eye contact with before. By living life this way, by being on this path (thanks to my ex’s betrayal), I feel more alive than I have in a long time. And I’m now incredibly aware of how much I missed out on due to the grip of fear controlling me. My ex has done me a favor, honestly, by causing me to hurt so deeply.

I am no longer afraid. Truly, there is no better gift I could’ve ever been given. Who would’ve thought that I would’ve looked at his infidelity as a way of shaking me awake so I can live the life I want to live? 90 days ago I don’t think I would’ve called this betrayal a gift. Now, though, I feel as though it has empowered me. It has granted me permission to live an uninhibited life. It truly feels limitless.

So in this moment, I am now looking forward to the next 90 days. Who knows who I’ll be by then? What I do know is, whoever I am, I’ll be happy.

life

Class & Grace

A Graceful Catastrophe

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

Today, I’m drowning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hopefully tomorrow, only a toe gets in the shit.