When It’s Raining, Let it Rain

I made my intention clear in the first few weeks after the marital tsunami – once the divorce was final and the school year over, I was going to leave my former life behind and move across the country to Seattle.

As I saw it, there was only one little problem.

The rain.

As a lifetime resident of the south, I was accustomed to huge sky-opening downpours followed by endless days of sun. And Seattle, with its endless drizzle beckoned like a form of impending water torture.

And since I had yet to master the art of controlling the weather, I decided that I needed to work on changing my approach to it instead.

My normal approach was to wait for the nice days to go for a hike or a run. And on those inevitably rainy days, I would tuck into a good book or carry my laptop to a seat by the window where I could work while listening to the rain. In my determination to acclimate, I upended my tendencies, actively seeking the rainy days for my outdoor pursuits.

My early approaches were rather comical. I would cover every inch of skin, as though the falling water would cause blisters to rise on unprotected flesh. I would pull my cap down low over my face, intent on shielding my eyes from even the smallest drop. And before venturing out, I would steel myself in my car, a pep talk before greeting the downpour.

I went out the rain, yet I fought against the rain. I saw it like a battle. One I was determined to win through sheer will alone. And I guess I did okay. I refused to allow the precipitation to dictate my day. I carried on regardless of the weather. I allowed the rain to wash the sweat off my limbs and to carry away my tears.

But I still wasn’t ready. Because I still didn’t get it.

Then came the day of my first-ever race. A 10K. Longer than I had ever run. The day came with a cold dampness heavy in the dark. I blasted the heat in my car as I drove across town to the starting point. I felt a hesitant confidence. Excitement mixed with apprehension as the coffee pooled in my belly.

Buoyed by the energy at the starting line, I took my place in the group with building confidence. And with my first few steps came the first few drops of rain. Within the first mile, the light drizzle had turned into a steady rain, each drop like a cold steel ball dropped upon my skin. My skin was unprotected by a hat or excess clothing.

I felt my spirits drop and with them, my certainty that I could do this thing. Doubts crept into my mind as the rising water found its way into my shoes and through my socks. I cursed the sky for letting it rain and I cursed myself for not being prepared.

In my lowest moment, I saw the frontrunner on their return to the starting point, as this was an out-and-back course. I almost turned around and gave up with the belief that the rain was too much for me. That I needed to seek shelter and wait for sunnier days.

And then I remembered my goal for the year – to adapt to the rain. To accept the difficult times and continue nonetheless. To refuse to wait until conditions were ideal to make a move and to trust in my ability to make it through.

And so I kept going that morning. One step at a time. Two hours later, I crossed the finish line. Cold. Shaking. And soaked through to the core.

But also triumphant. Because the storm didn’t stop me. My own tears soon joined those from the sky, streaking down my face.

Because the only thing to do when it’s raining, is let it rain.


Thank you for sharing!

13 thoughts on “When It’s Raining, Let it Rain

  1. Great analogy. Sometimes we just have to keep moving even though is raining. Sometimes it feels like we’re moving through the gumbo mud that famous in the South. 😉

  2. Kalpana – India – Writes, hides, writes again, reads, walks, plays with cats, gardens, dances, dreams, advises, takes photos, loves, loses, does yoga, wins, drives, imagines, plants, writes.
    Kalpanaa says:

    I loved your analogy and your determination. Hats off to you.

  3. I could feel myself right there alongside of you! Your writing always touches me in the most needed spots. Thank YOU!

      1. Lisa, I’ve said it before, as many others have, too, that your writing and how it reflects your thoughts and feelings you’ve had and have today, could not be a better fit for me, & so many of us who follow you and feel what you’re telling us could not be described and defined any better. Thank you for that. I almost feel as you’re a personal friend, only better, because you get this and us! 🙂

        1. You have literally just made me cry. Thank you:) I write because I don’t want anyone else to feel alone in their divorce. The words I hear back make all I went through worth every moment.

          1. Awww! I hope a good cry! You are a VERY special woman, and I know this can’t always be easy, (how could it)? Hashing up the past and some of those dreaded feelings have to still affect you in some ways. I’m just glad you chose this road to help those of us like you to find our way back to ourselves that we knew and loved in outright honest, and raw ways, as well as the humorous correlations you choose. I so love how you defined dating after divorce as trying on clothes! I’ve left two men waiting for me to show up when I’ve made dates to meet them from a dating site. That was before I read your description. I’ve yet to make another, but you can bet I’ll be looking at it in a whole different light as I did when anxiety creeped in full force and shut me down. I apologized to both men, neither responding to me. And that was okay by me, I really didn’t want a do-over!

              1. Ha! It’s gonna be awhile I’m thinking. I can’t get on the dating site without freaking out like they’re seeing me in front of them! So many who don’t reply or if they do it’s “how are you”, or “hello”, or those stupid winks I hate so much! Lol 😂 It’s as if all the pressure of saying something worthwhile is all up to ME! Why is that? Ugh 😑!

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