7 Years Ago Today

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Seven years ago today, I awoke afraid of seeing the man who had abandoned me eight months before. And when he passed me in the courthouse hall, I didn’t even recognize him.

Seven years ago today, I was ready for the divorce I never wanted from the man I thought I knew.

Seven years ago today, I sat in a courtroom with the man I had spent half of my life with. A man I once considered my best friend. We never made eye contact.

Seven years ago today, I looked at his face for any sign of the man I had loved.  I saw none. After sixteen years, he was truly a stranger to me.

Seven years ago today, I sat alone in a hallway waiting for the attorneys to decide his fate and mine. Hoping that the judge saw through his lies and would not fall sway to him charms. She didn’t, even asking my husband’s attorney if he was “psycho.” The lawyer could only shrug.

Seven years ago today, I cried and shook with the realization that it was all over. It was a relief and yet the finality was jarring.

Seven years ago today, I felt a heaviness lift as I cut the dead weight of him from my burden. I believed I couldn’t begin to heal until his malignancy had been removed.

Seven years ago today, I laughed when I learned he hadn’t paid his attorney. I had warned the man my husband was a con. Maybe he believed me now.

Seven years ago today, I held tightly to that decree, still believing that its declarations had power. I felt relief that he would have to pay back some of what he stole from the marriage. The relief was short lived.

Seven years ago today, I took my first steps as a single woman. Steps I never expected to take. The first few were shaky. But I soon started to find my stride.

Seven years ago today, I sat around a restaurant table with friends and my mother. A table that had held my husband and I countless times over our marriage. We celebrated the end of the marriage that night. I had celebrated my anniversary there the year before.

Seven years ago today, I read my husband’s other wife’s blog for the last time, curious if she would mention anything about the court date. She did not. I erased the URL from my history. It no longer mattered.

Seven years ago today, I sealed the piles of paperwork from the divorce and the criminal proceedings into a large plastic tub. As the lid clicked in place, I felt like I was securing all of that anguish in my past.

Seven years ago today, I started to wean myself off of the medication that allowed me to sleep and eat through the ordeal. I was thankful it had been there, but I no longer wanted the help.

Seven years ago today, I fell asleep dreaming of hope for the future rather than experiencing nightmares of the past.

And now, seven years on, I could not be happier with where I am.

Not because of the divorce.

But because losing everything made me thankful for everything.

Because being blind made me learn how to see.

Because being vulnerable created new friendships and bonds.

Because being destroyed made me defiantly want to succeed.

And because losing love made me determined to find it again.

I am happier than I’ve ever been.

And I could not be where I am without seven years ago today.

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5 Critical Ways to Learn to Trust After a Devastating Betrayal

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Long after the initial pain of a betrayal has faded, the negative impact on your ability to trust persists. You can choose to never trust again. Or, you can refuse to let the betrayal limit you and take these steps towards learning to trust again.

Is My Reaction to Divorce Normal?

Posted on by stilllearning2b

It’s the first question people want me to answer –

“Am I normal?”

“Have you seen this before?”

“Do others respond this way?”

When it comes to divorce, there are quite a few surprising reactions that are completely normal. Read about them here!

When It’s Raining, Let it Rain

Posted on by stilllearning2b

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 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, 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.

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Giving Candy to Strangers and Coal to Our Partners

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Quick.

Who do you care most about in your life?

Who are you the nicest to in your life?

Be honest, are they the same person?

They’re often not.

You can see this dynamic clearly in teenagers and their parents (especially with mothers and daughters – sorry, mom!), but it happens in romantic partnerships too.

At first glance, it seems counterintuitive. After all, shouldn’t love and kindness function in tandem? Ideally, yes. But the reality is often more complex.

I’m not talking about abuse here (here’s a post on that particular dynamic), rather, I’m addressing the more innocuous and unintententional unkindness that can find its way into relationships.

So why do we so often give candy to strangers and coal to our partners?

Safe Harbor

Have you ever had a negative experience during your day that is then transferred to your partner that evening? We can’t say all of what’s on our minds to the boss, to the policeman who issued the ticket or the difficult client. So we unload it later on the one person that feels safe.

After all, they love us. Sometimes that love makes us feel confident that we can treat them poorly and they’ll still be there. And sometimes, we may treat them poorly in order to test that love.

Your partner becomes your safe harbor and that sense of security can lead to an unintended (and often unnoticed) decrease in kindness. It’s easier to always be on your best behavior when you don’t take things for granted. (One of MANY reasons it’s important to not take your partner for granted!)

Stripping Away the Public Self

When we’re out and about in the world, we project our public selves. In many ways, we present how we want to be perceived (after all, strangers only know what we show them). And it can be exhausting. So when we come home, we peel off that mask along with our trousers and slip on the sweats and let the less edited self fly free.

And when we’re relaxed and less restrained, we are more apt to talk before we think. And sometimes the words that come out are far from kind. Not because we aim to wound, but because we fail to check ourselves as carefully when we’re comfortable.

Add to that the history and inner knowledge we share with our closest people and the results can be quite painful.

Apprehension About Vulnerability

Letting it all show can be a scary feeling. And sometimes, we respond to that defenseless feeling by going on the offense. The baring of the underbelly followed by the baring of the teeth as though saying, “I’ll let you see me, but I’ll wound you before you get too close.”

Preservation of Self

Vulnerability isn’t the only fear that can manifest as unkindness; a concern that you’re losing yourself by becoming too attached to another can also result in unintentional hurtful actions. Pushing away instead of taking a step back.

Heightened Importance

And this is really what it’s all about. Our daily interactions with people at the periphery of our lives are fleeting. Hurtful words or actions are more easily sloughed off and forgotten. We don’t bring in the expectations. The fear. The attachment.

When you have two lives intertwined, there will be some frayed edges and some frayed nerves. Things unmeant will be said and actions may not always match the true feelings beneath.

Yes, your partner is your safe space. But that’s no reason to take them for granted and to treat them as such. Be generous in handing out candy to both strangers and your loved ones. Save the coal for those who really deserve it.