“Owning our story and loving ourselves through that process is the bravest thing we will ever do.”
Brene Brown
It’s been one year since I’ve posted.
Where do I begin?
It’s interesting how we never want to talk about, or publicize, what we’re going through while going through it. Only after the fact, once it’s done, in hindsight, can we openly talk about it. When the wound is fresh and raw, and vulnerability is at an all-time high, the mind races with anxiety. You’re just holding on to survive, hour-to-hour sometimes. Will people ask me about it, when I run into them out in public? How will I react? I’ll probably cry. I don’t have the strength for that. Will the school moms judge? I’ll stay away from public places, and I’ll avoid people in general, until I am strong enough, to not cry. How do you ever go back to “normal?” What about mutual friends? What about in-laws? Holidays? Co-parenting? Everything changes.
More time passes, and over the course of the year, the tears would still come whenever I’m alone behind the wheel. Whenever I hear certain songs. Especially whenever it’s pick up/drop off time. Whenever I have a minute to myself, to think. When I’m in the shower. When I see him. When someone innocently asks, “How are you? What’s new?” Honestly though, I have learned that most people don’t really care what’s going on in other people’s lives, because they’re just trying to figure out how to navigate their own, and if they want to gossip or judge, let them. (They are usually the ones we need to feel sorry for.)
“We don’t judge people when we feel good about ourselves. We don’t compare when we’re feeling good about ourselves, we look for what’s good in others. When we practice self-compassion, we are compassionate towards others. I’m better than you and I’m not good enough are two sides of the same coin. Self-righteousness is just the armor of self-loathing.” (Brene Brown)
Today, the tears come less often, (but they still hit sometimes, out of nowhere.) I can now wear mascara more often. Overall, I am much stronger. I can go weeks at a time without napping (my coping mechanism.) Is it just me or do heavy emotions just make you TIRED!?
Divorce is a deeply painful, sensitive and private matter. I have the utmost amount of care and respect for him. He still plays an important role in my life, as the father of my children. The person I grew into adulthood with and shared my life with for 16 years. The person I brought children into the world with. The better off he is, the better off the boys are, and the better off I am. So, I will still root for him, always. He is still their hero, and I don’t want that to change.
Divorce, for me, has changed my entire being. I’m learning how to be an independent person (trying). I have more control over my life. I am figuring out who I am and what I want out of this (very short) life. I am learning what it means to take responsibility for my own happiness and not depending on or blaming anyone but myself for my well-being. I am trying to learn how to own my past, my faults, my failures, and how to be a better person. I now have much more self-confidence. It waxes and wanes at times, depending on how well I am taking care of my body, and my mind. But I can truly say I am (mostly) at peace in my life. My main focus in life right now is the wellbeing of my boys and trying to be the best mama to them that I can. I know that to do that, I have to work through my own shit, and get myself together, so I can (teach them how to) live wholeheartedly.
This is my story. ✌🏼💜
“We’re wired for story. In a culture of scarcity and perfectionism, there’s a surprisingly simple reason we want to own, integrate, and share our stories of struggle. We do this because we feel the most alive when we’re connecting with others and being brave with our stories—it’s in our biology.“
Brene Brown
Peace Love and Curiosity 