life, love

Foolish Notions

Do you ever have moments that cause you to just stop, dead in your tracks, goose bumps covering your body as your blood runs cold, and you ask yourself, “What in the hell am I doing?”

Goodness, I hope that isn’t just me.

That literally just happened and I was suddenly overwhelmed with a need to write.

The last few months have once again given me an opportunity to learn how to let go of any false sense of control that I thought I had.

It’s quite interesting, what March 17th has represented for two years in a row now. Last year, on the evening of March 17th, I received information that thoroughly rocked my personal world and threw me off the path I was on. In hindsight, I am incredibly grateful for that shove. This year, on March 17th, quarantine began for me. It was my last morning at the gym, the last week I worked a full week, and the beginning of another push off the path that I thought I was happy to be traveling on, though this time it was professionally that I was knocked off kilter.

I suppose the universe always knows better and guides us towards our truest destiny, regardless of what we think our path should be. Trust the process, right?

But that’s so hard! Because, inherently, we just want to believe we control our destinies. That we can fight the inevitable. But eventually, what is supposed to be will be. The energies align how they must and we are at their mercy.

The sooner we can grasp that, and understand that we really have no control, the happier and more free we can feel.

Though, let me back up, because I’m about to contradict myself. We do have control over one incredibly significant thing – our own mindset.

Last week, my boyfriend asked me if I’d forgiven my ex yet, for what transpired over the last year of our marriage. I actually hadn’t thought about it – had I formally forgiven him? I understand that forgiveness is for oneself, otherwise the toxicity of holding on to that pain and hurt consumes you and hinders your ability to experience true, uncompromised happiness.

Logically, I understand that. Emotionally, however, my first thought was, “Has he ever really apologized to me for what occurred?” I don’t remember receiving a sincere and genuine apology. So, I kept thinking…the pause extending into the arena of discomfort for my boyfriend, who began to wonder if perhaps he shouldn’t have asked the question. But that wasn’t why I hesitated in responding. I wanted to think through my thoughts and feelings surrounding the question. I wanted to be thorough in my space before speaking it aloud.

The thing is, I suppose I had forgiven him.

There are some interesting similarities between my boyfriend and my ex husband. Through many, many discussions with my boyfriend, who is essentially an outsider, I was able to obtain closure with my ex. I was able to forgive him.

I used to fully believe that I had control over my life. I could make choices and would then experience the outcome that I’d wanted.

After both of these St. Patrick’s days, I’ve learned that I can only control so much. Honestly, I’m sick of trying to plan and achieve my desired outcome, fighting to make things happen – or not happen. It’s so much more fulfilling and freeing to simply let go. Everything occurs that is supposed to anyway, so why fight so hard?

My boyfriend and my ex met a couple weeks ago. We’d planned for him to arrive at my house at a certain time so we could go together to my ex’s home and there’d be plenty of time for a decent chat. I was insanely nervous and wanted everything to go smoothly. I wanted my ex to like this man, who’d surely become a significant role model in my daughter’s life. And then, after a number of factors, my boyfriend found himself running terribly late. Unbeknownst to him, this is one of my ex’s triggers. He absolutely abhors tardiness. He was furious and texting me all sorts of irritated comments. Control. He was controlling the situation (or so he thought) and then, my boyfriend’s appearance occurred beyond his control. Late, as a matter of fact.

When we finally arrived, he lectured my boyfriend as I sat there, uncomfortable, sitting in between the man I now love and the man I once loved. These meetings are not for the faint of heart. Ultimately, they found a common ground – in me. I’ll always have love for my ex-husband, as he is a significant part of not only my history, but also my present and my future, thanks to my daughter. And my ex will always have love for me and will always feel the need to protect me, as I am the mother of his child. My boyfriend loves me and has that same desire to protect me (perhaps that is ingrained in men? The desire to protect their people?). Regardless, these two men found a common thread, which pretty quickly, united them.

They began chatting about me, both eager to work together to protect me, laughing about bonding over going on an adventure together to seek out those that have hurt me long before. Also, my boyfriend made it clear he was not in my daughter’s life to replace him and be the new daddy, rather more to just add a layer of love and support for her. He was there, to stand alongside my ex-husband, to make sure no harm comes to either myself or my daughter. They drank their favorite drink (yes, it’s the same) and came to a common ground.

This would not have been able to happen if any of us tried to control the situation. It unfolded naturally and rather pleasantly, overall. It was also inevitable that my boyfriend would become a part of my daughter’s life, as he is now a significant part of mine, so my ex’s willingness to meet him made it all flow easily.

We all know that life can change in mere seconds and everything we hoped for, planned for, and/or worked for can all shatter in a blink. And, we all know that we can recover. We can experience something so catastrophic that the ability to breathe becomes the only focus because even that is far too difficult to accomplish without concentration. And then, ever so slowly and over time, you discover your strength and just how resilient you are. You survive, then adapt, and finally, thrive.

But in order to thrive, truly and wholly, you must forgive. I’ve forgiven myself, for being a pretty terrible wife and playing my part in the catastrophic decisions my ex made. And I’ve forgiven my ex for making them.

Hurt people hurt people. And man, does my ex hurt.

I do not want to hurt anyone. Ever again. So, my pain must be processed. True and abundant forgiveness must be given. There is no longer any toxicity within, I harbor no pain from anything along my path that I have encountered. My wounds have healed and scars have formed. My pain brought me to my present and it’s now a pretty incredible place to live. My bucket is patched, I’m filled with self-love, compassion, understanding, and am thrilled to say, pure happiness.

I no longer have any desire to control anything or anyone and have finally mastered the enlightened acceptance that life just is. I will always work hard, of course, and I’m a dreamer, so my eyes will always be wide with wonder. But as roadblocks come up, as March 17ths continue to come along throughout the year, though I may have a short cry, I’ll never linger in despair. “Nothing is as bad as it seems or as good as it feels.”

It just is.

And to think we have any control over anything is not only the most foolish notion of all, it inhibits our ability to pursue the one thing we all deserve – true happiness.

life, love

What is to Come?

I fell in love.

Yep. There it is.

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

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

You see, this one is about love.

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

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

Or so I thought.

But in the end, I was wrong.

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

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

But I’m talking about before that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That doesn’t work. It just doesn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

life

263 Days

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, love

Onehundo

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So why do I feel like such a fraud still?

It’s beyond frustrating.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hmm, maybe that is it…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

life

Fight or Flight?

You always hear kids saying how unfair life is, “it’s not fair that so and so gets a TV in their bedroom!” Or, you know, insert some material thing that some friend of theirs, or classmate, has.

As adults, life is still anything but fair.

It’s not fair to get cancer at 33 years old. It’s not fair to kick it’s butt and then struggle with crippling depression after getting the news that you’re all clear, making you, in ways, sicker than you were when you were actively fighting and going through all the treatments.

It’s not fair to grow up dreaming of motherhood, being a young adult and doing everything right to prevent a pregnancy, working incredibly hard as an adult, waiting until you’ve reached a “respectable” and “fiscally responsible” time of your life to start trying, and then finding out that you can’t have kids naturally. It’s not fair to spend 10’s of thousands of dollars and still come up empty. Causing you to feel a void greater than you ever thought was possible.

It isn’t fair to lose your dear brother, your best friend, to cancer, watching him slowly and painfully die and leave behind a family that loves him with every breath they take – and will ever take.

It isn’t fair that, when you’re doing everything your instincts are screaming for you to do, so much that you end up losing yourself in motherhood to protect the baby you almost lost, and then your husband’s response is anything but compassionate and empathetic. It’s not fair to devote 11 years to a man, when he only devoted 10. It’s not fair that now he wants to be a husband and blames me for tearing apart our family because I cannot look past all that he has done.

Life. Isn’t. Fair. You know it, too.

Insert your reason here. You know you have one. We all do.

So what do we do with that? So, okay, life can be shit. My best friend coined the phrase, “shituation.” We all have shituations.

Do we let it overtake us? Do we become bitter and jaded, holding on to the hurt and the anger caused by the shituation? Do we actively escape our own lives in whatever way we can?

Well, yeah. Maybe. For a while, at least.

And then what?

We all know it isn’t healthy to live in that space. Not for any extended period of time, at least.

So how do we get through it?

Well, I’ll tell you what I’ve done – and am doing – and who knows if it’s right or wrong or would work for anyone else other than me. Be sure to take it with a grain of salt.

I escaped my reality. I ran away, sometimes with friends and sometimes alone. Any opportunity where I had no motherhood obligations, I drank myself happy. Drank until I didn’t care. Drank to forget.

I also worked out – obsessively at times. I still do. (I’ve got to counteract the drinking… *shrug*)

And I finally reached a point where I didn’t want to escape anymore. If you read my previous blog, I, at what feels like long last, got to the point where I was ready to face this beast. And I’m now doing so, in very small bits at a time.

Fight or flight. I was in denial for a good month, then flew directly to flight for the last two.

I’m ready to fight now.

Are you?

How are you going to fight your shituation? How are you going to face the utter depths of despair and begin to crawl back from them?

I’ll tell you a secret: there’s absolutely no way I could ever possibly do this alone.

I’ve learned something about myself during the last 3 months. Okay, I’ve learned A TON about myself, but here’s one thing. I don’t reach out. When life explodes in my face, I actively avoid. I thought, a few blog posts ago, that it was only those most familiar to me that I didn’t – couldn’t – be around. But it’s not. I avoid anyone and everyone.

The people I’ve opened up to are the ones who have reached out to me. They’re in my face and I literally can’t avoid them, no matter how hard I’ve tried. I’m honest – to a fault (live out loud, right?). So, if you’re someone who has reached out, and then reached out again and again, and happened to catch me in a moment that absolutely sucked, I’ve opened up to you – probably giving you more than you bargained for. I’ve done this with strangers. I’ve opened up to close friends. I’ve opened up to acquaintances. Anyone who happened to be there for me and just wouldn’t get out of my face.

The ones who have consistently checked in and would check in again and again until my silence and facade broke? Guys, find those people.

I know I haven’t been that person for so many going through their shituations. The energy necessary to consistently check in was more than I had in my tank. It troubles me greatly that I haven’t been able to be that person for all my friends going through their shit. Because I know how impactful those people have been to me. I hope my tank is starting to fill. I can’t keep running on “emotional empty.”

This shituation I’m in has been draining on so many levels. SO MANY, GUYS!!!

And I’m angry and frustrated that it has changed who I am as a friend.

It’s changed who I am as a person, guys. I am not who I was. I’ll never be her again.

I don’t know who I am. Honestly.

And that’s so hard to admit.

I’ve always had a good head on my shoulders. I’ve always been responsible and thought about how my actions would affect my future. I’ve always known exactly what I was going to do tomorrow and next week and next month and next year…and so on.

But for what? All of that for what exactly?!

There is no reality past this breath I am taking right now.

But there has to be a balance.

So how do I find it?

How do I care about how my actions today will affect my future when time and again I have been shown that my future can change in a second. A mere, tiny, oh, so very significant second!!!

Oof, I am angry.

I am on a plane right now. And I’m surrounded by couples, actively loving one another. And I just wonder, when will it end for them? What will be their demise?

Because relationships aren’t infinite.

*sigh*

So, there you go. Real time. Real emotions. This blog quickly shifted from uplifting to anger.

This anger is constantly simmering. I’m always at the edge. It doesn’t take much to trigger me anymore.

And this is just not who I am! I’m not an angry person. I never have been.

Maybe this is the new me.

Distrusting. Angry. Frustrated. Jaded. Bitter.

Do you realize how toxic those emotions are? And they’re all harboring inside of me. Silently waiting to show themselves at the first opportunity that presents itself. And I have no clue when that could strike.

Like in the middle of a crowded plane, as I furiously write this on my phone.

So here we are. Full circle.

You are reading it live…raw. The full gamut of what I live, moment by moment, every single damn day.

Future? What a joke. I can barely process an hour at a time.

But I can’t keep flying away. That’s not reality. And it surely isn’t healthy.

So, ladies and gentlemen, how do we fight?

This life is absolutely worth fighting for. I obviously have no doubt about that. This life, these moments in my life, they all serve a purpose. I believe that all the way to my soul.

From moments filled with hope to moments spiraling out of control and finding themselves settling in rage, they all teach me something.

And they are all valid.

This blog feels absolutely all over the place.

Real time.

Real emotions.

This is life.

It fluctuates for everyone. Though, perhaps, not as quickly as you’re seeing here.

I have been writing for a little over an hour, or so, now.

And this is why I’m pretty consistently emotionally drained right now. And a self-absorbed person. And probably – no, definitely – not the greatest friend.

So, I hope you can forgive me.

And I hope, whenever I reach “the other side” of this shituation, you are still there. Because I love you dearly.

I guess I’m asking for grace.

And perhaps, just maybe, I am ready to start living with it again.

life

Eating the Elephant

You know, there just isn’t any guidebook for how to deal with trauma. When you see someone going through something difficult, you sometimes *try to* put yourself in their shoes. Sometimes people make judgments on how the other person is responding or how they would do it differently. Other people seem rather fascinated and can’t even begin to understand how the person is coping “so well.”

In reality, you just don’t know until you go through it – and even then you have no idea how to process life.

For me, I’ve been processing by choosing to escape. I haven’t wanted to face my reality because the rare moments where I couldn’t avoid them were crippling. So I did what I could to bury it further. The pain from the discovery on March 17 has really, quite honestly, been impossible to bear.

But I think it was because I was trying to face it all at once. I thought I had to eat the elephant in one bite, so to speak. I thought I had to look at my pain, all of it, and try to process it as a whole.

That idea was beyond overwhelming. To think that I had to try and understand what was going on inside my head, to sit down and pick apart the betrayal and agony one layer at a time until it had all been chewed up and spit back out, was inconceivable!

But I thought that’s how it was supposed to be done. Just face your fears, right? Why wouldn’t the same idea apply to facing your trauma?

And do you know how absolutely and genuinely terrifying that is? And I mean “terrifying” by its exact definition: “causing extreme fear,” as Google’s dictionary says. “Extreme,” guys. Not just regular, run of the mill fear, but extreme. Again, thank you Google dictionary for defining “extreme” for us: reaching a high or the highest degree.

I had reached the highest degree of fear and was sprinting away as quickly as I could. I was never suicidal, thankfully, but I didn’t want to live this life. I wanted, desperately, to run away. So I could pretend that this wasn’t my reality. How could this be my reality? How could I ever trust again? There are, I’m sorry, were, two men in my life that I blindly trusted. My dad and my now ex-husband. How could he do what he did, day in and day out, for almost a year, all while coming home and complaining about what an awful wife I was? And let’s not forget about how he sat in marriage counseling and complained about how awful I was there, only to turn around and tell his Ashley Madison lovelies all about our therapy sessions.

Yeah, I wanted to run. Far and fast. How could that have been my life?!

At first, I thought I could handle everything with grace. Of course you should give grace to those who least deserve it. Well, that’s all fine and dandy when you’re in the denial stage of grief. There wasn’t a ton of grace to be given during the anger stage! I don’t know if you can see the hashtags on my blogs, but if you can, and you take a look back, there’s a definite moment where I stopped using the hashtag “living life with class and grace and muscles.” Because I was only living life with muscles.

I was angry a lot of the time, which I preferred to sadness. Sadness shut me down. Sadness made me want to hide under the covers and never, ever move again. Anger, though, anger made me feel alive! I could still laugh when I was angry. I could put up a front and live in the moment and feel free of my reality.

But, that’s not exactly the most healthy way to live…

Like I wrote in yesterday’s blog, there’s a distinct shift occurring within. I couldn’t pinpoint it yesterday but I can today.

The last 2 months, while wild and fun, have still felt empty. I have felt so empty and I have been trying, in vain, to fill that void.

But when the wild and crazy calmed down, I was left feeling emptier still. I’ve never done ecstasy or Molly but I feel like my last 2 months resemble what I’ve heard those highs – and lows – are like. From what I understand, when under the influence, you feel euphoric. But then when it starts to wear off, the coming down from it is one of the worst things ever.

That’s how my life has been. I have a blast going out with my friends, or going out on dates, but when it’s all said and done, my reality is that I’m still alone, trying to process a trauma so great that it has been both exhausting and crippling. And simply too excruciating to face.

There has been very minimal light and the darkness definitely won for some time.

But I had the most amazing session with my therapist Thursday of last week and he gave me permission that I don’t have to face my reality all at once. What?! I don’t?! Oh, my goodness, halle-freaking-lujah!!

Do you know that I felt about a million times lighter after that? I can just live. I don’t have to sit down and spend hours – or days – doing nothing else except focusing on sorting out all the emotions! I can walk through life and just live. And when something triggers me, I can feel sad. I can honor that emotion, that moment, process it for what it’s worth, and then move on. I don’t have to linger there and go deeper and try to understand how it applies to the 34 thousand other layers of pain. I can just process that piece. I can eat the elephant one bite at a time.

Life. Changing.

Friday night was like my grand farewell to the last 2 months. It was probably the wildest, most uninhibited night I’ve ever had. And probably the most fun.

Saturday morning I awoke with a distinct shift in my mindset.

I want more.

I don’t want to feel empty anymore. I also don’t feel the need to escape anymore. Now that I know I don’t have to swallow this elephant whole, I am no longer terrified.

Guys. I am no longer terrified of my reality.

I fully understand what this means for me…it means that I can finally begin to heal.

And that makes me smile.

As I write this, it is June 17th. At 6:08 tonight, while I was out with my girls for dinner, I hit the 3 month mark exactly.

It makes me laugh to think it’s only been 3 months. A lifetime has occurred in these last 3 months! And I’m sure I’m in for a million more changes and ups and downs in the next 3 months.

There’s no doubt my mindset will continue to flex and change as the time progresses. If nothing else, I give myself permission to continue riding this wave, to allow it to guide me through this next phase. At least now, I am facing the challenges ahead unafraid.

This elephant will be eaten – eventually. And I’m giving myself permission to do so one nibble at a time.

life

The Phoenix Begins to Rise from her Ashes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I feel empty.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perhaps I will be okay, after all.

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

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

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

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

life

Dear Ashley Madison Lovelies

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.