How Conquering Divorce Gives You Confidence

Posted on by stilllearning2b
confidence

Whenever you successfully complete something that you thought you could not do, you gain confidence. Whenever you have to reframe your assumptions about your weaknesses and limitations, you fuel belief in yourself. Whenever you face your fears and survive, you acquire strength. And whenever you come through a struggle bruised and battered yet without giving up, you build trust in your abilities.

 

Divorce gives you plenty of practice in all of these. The end of a marriage is rife with authentic opportunities to build your confidence: 

 

Whenever we accept too much assistance, we sacrifice our self-confidence. But divorce gives plenty of practice in self-reliance. Because at the end of the day, you have to do it yourself.  You can accept help in everything from paperwork to counseling, but the talks with the lawyers, the tears in the night and the conviction to move forward are yours and your alone.

Divorce seems never-ending. The mountain seems insurmountable between the emotional process and the legal one. One step forward is often followed with a mudslide back. It’s a powerful feeling when you look back and realize how far you’ve come. Baby steps add up to marathons.

In many marriages, you grow to depend upon your partner as your go-to when you’re stressed or upset. But in divorce, that is the one person who cannot offer you the comfort you crave or the helping hand you desire. You have to do it all without the support of the person that you had always depended upon. 

Divorce is scary. It requires cojones just to face each day. You never know what may lie in wait around each corner and what demons you may be asked to slay. And if you have kids, it takes even greater courage to be the strong one for them.

When a marriage ends, it leaves no surface untouched. It affects every area of your life from finances to future. Nothing is sacred. Nothing is safe. It’s not easy living in a land of uncertainty with no firm footholds.

When you are partnered, you see yourself as your spouse sees you. You may accept his or her perceived weakness as truth and you may lose faith in your ability to conquer challenges. As you separate, you are forced to revise your self-image. And you will discover that you are stronger and more resilient than you ever imaged.

Made it through divorce? Here’s your trophy. You deserve it!

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It Doesn’t Get Easier; You Get Stronger

Posted on by stilllearning2b
stronger

I love the feeling of doing something that was once difficult only to find that it has become easy.

I have this one running route that I have been frequenting for the last year or so. It is an eight-mile loop from my house through a nearby neighborhood. This particular community is a favorite training ground for the triathletes in the area because it has HILLS (not to be confused with their tamer brethren, hills).

This run was a real challenge for me at first, as I had been training primarily along the river and the greenway with their decided lacks of HILLS or even hills. I grew comfortable with level ground and my legs and lungs fought to handle the grade changes. In fact, there were many ventures through this neighborhood that resulted in more miles walked than run as I failed to meet the trial.

But I still keep going back.

And last night, I just finished that route in my best time ever.

But even better? There is one looong HILL towards the end of the run that is a real beast. I always prep myself ahead of time, slowing my breathing and adjusting my gait so that I can make it up the entire stretch. Last night, I was into my podcast and didn’t even notice the hill (it has officially lost its HILL status now!) until it was behind me.

I was so excited when I became aware of my unawareness, that I even had enough energy to sprint the final mile home.

There is no better feeling that staying with something until it becomes easy.

Because you become stronger.

 

A major side effect of divorce (especially when infidelity is involved) is a lack of confidence. The cure is not to have people tell you you’re great. Or to seek out the attentions of attractive members of your preferred gender. Although both are certainly nice, they only scratch the surface.

The way to build confidence is to try something you think you can’t do.

And then try again.

And again.

Until it becomes easy.

Because you became stronger.

 

And no, you don’t have to run. But before you say you can’t, read about how I started.

 

 

‘Cause He’s the King

Posted on by stilllearning2b

In my freshman year of high school, I had an art class during the last period of the day. The art teacher’s six-year-old son attended the elementary school next door, which released an hour earlier than the high school. Every day, about five minutes after the start of class, the door to art room would open and that small kid with a big personality would stride into the room, greeting the teenagers as though they were his friends.

On one day in particular, his personality had the entire class entertained. He walked in as usual (except this time with a Superman cape tied around his neck), proceeded to the front of the room and placed his hands on his hips. By this point, all paintbrushes were down and all eyes were on him.

“I have an announcement to make.”

We started chuckling at the idea of a kid barely out of diapers making an announcement to teenagers (who, of course, know everything).

“I named my penis last night.”

I looked over at the kid’s dad and noticed the blush spreading to his hairline. I don’t think genital epithets were on the lesson plans for that day.

“What’s his name?” called a kid from the back row.

“Elvis. ‘Cause he’s the king.”

 

I could use a dose of that confidence right now. Okay, maybe a bit more “king of the world” and a bit less “king in my pants,” but you get the idea. I envy that confidence found in the young. Before they have time to be hurt. Or to fail. When they can wear a Superman cape and believe that it really does provide super powers.

 

I’ve been on spring break this week and I’ve been using the time to finalize the preparations for my next career. And it’s real now. I’m no longer just in training for the next step. I’m taking it.

And maybe I should be wearing a Superman cape. Or at least some super hero undergarments. Because I’m scared.

It’s hard leaving something you know for something you don’t. It’s hard leaving the comfort of confidence for the fear of starting over. It’s hard releasing what you have been doing even when you know that it is past its expiration date.

Put me in a room full of math teachers, and I quickly emerge a leader. Throw me to the lions in the form of a group of teenagers, and I can tame them. I can factor any polynomial, write songs to help kids remember and write a pass to the nurse’s office while simultaneously writing a lesson on the board. In my teaching life, I may not be king, but I know where I stand and I am confident in my knowledge and abilities.

But just because it was right for me then doesn’t mean it is right for me now.

Just because it is known, doesn’t mean it is all that I will ever know.

I hate the feeling of not knowing the answers. Of being the novice. I used to read the textbooks before the start of the semester so that I wouldn’t walk in a complete neophyte. But there are some things you can only learn by doing. Some things that cannot be mastered through books or courses alone.

I keep thinking back to my start in teaching, to those first days in a classroom with only the most minimal of substitute training. I was petrified, yet the students never knew. I had no idea what I was doing, but I learned more every day. The uncomfortable feeling of being an imposter was fleeting and was slowly replaced with an expanding confidence.

And it will be that way again. After all, new is always temporary.

 

As I work to gain the confidence to release the old to embrace the new, I have so much empathy for those of you that had to make the decision to leave a dying or dead marriage. Even though my divorce was an end I never wanted, I’m sometimes thankful that the decision was made for me. I didn’t have to make the difficult choice to release a hold on the known and drop into uncharted territory. I just had to figure out how to survive once I was in free fall.

And since I might get some strange looks if I wear a cape with my heels, most superhero underwear comes only in kid’s sizes and I refuse to name any part of my anatomy “Elvis”, I’m going to have to go with something a little more subtle – a new background on my phone. And I’m breathing:)

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Beneath the Uniform

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Last Sunday found me curled up on the sofa next to Brock, my trusty laptop in my hands, watching the Braves lose to Detroit while I Googled, “Naked baseball players.”

Perhaps an explanation is needed here. I didn’t really want to see naked baseball players; I was looking for baseball players in their underwear.

Stay with me:)

I am relatively new to world of sports; I only started watching when Brock and I began dating three years ago. Since I have an interest in health and fitness, I was immediately drawn to learn about the training programs for the various sports and teams. I was already familiar with football training, thanks to my teenage subscription to Muscle and Fitness. I also knew the effect of that training on their bodies – not only did M&F prominently feature these men, but their nearly bare bodies can be seen in national ads.

But not so with baseball players. They are much more secretive.

My search began with curiosity about  their butts. At my first Braves game, I immediately noticed that the read ends of the players were quite prominent. I wondered if that was a result of selection bias or training. Not surprisingly, it is a bit of both. Scouts look for big butts and thighs because that is where the power comes from. Then, training focuses on developing that explosive force which leads to greater muscular development.

But I still wasn’t satisfied. I was curious about what lay beneath the uniforms, as many of these men appeared to be rather chunky, especially for pro athletes. I made an assumption based upon their thick lower bodies and blousy tucked-in shirts.

Eventually, my curiosity got the best of me and I turned to the all-knowing Google for answers. My first queries were tamer – “baseball player physiques”, “baseball players shirtless” and “baseball players in underwear”. No luck. Apparently, baseball players like to hide their bodies as much as football players like to display theirs.

I summoned my courage and typed, “Naked baseball players.”

Not a search I would necessarily recommend. But it was enlightening.

Not surprisingly, my assumptions were wrong. Some of the players are certainly carrying some extra weight but many others hide six-pack abs under their voluminous shirts. The uniforms may be identical yet the players they cover are unique and resist stereotypes.

It was a reminder about the uniforms that we all wear in our lives. The outward presentation that does not always match the inside.

It takes courage to remove your uniform and reveal the vulnerable self beneath. To show the world who you are without the socially-approved costume disguising your form.

People make assumptions based upon what we show them. Those labels can persist, even though they may not be accurate or inclusive. We can feel comfortable behind the uniform, fearing that to remove it would be to stand out too much from the crowd, perhaps painting us as the weak gazelle at the back of the pack.

The trick to being comfortable revealing what hides behind your outward attire is to accept our naked, authentic selves. To understand that that the seemingly perfect facades worn by others are hiding their own vulnerable  selves.

I learned a parallel lesson as a child who frequented campgrounds with their not-so-private showers and hippie-friendly festivals. I grew up observing all types of bodies – young and old, fat and thin, smooth and wrinkled with age. Those experiences did more for me developing a healthy self-image and attitude about my body than any after school special could ever have achieved. I saw the “perfect” bodies marred by scars that were only visible out of clothes. I grew to appreciate the tales of children born upon the abdomens of the women and the sagging skin over once-filled biceps on the men. Under the clothes, people were at once more unique and more similar than they could ever be when shielded by their attire.

Our internal selves are no different. We shield them from public view.  The men I met while dating who appeared to be the toughest were wearing their tattoos, leather and muscles to hide their insecurities. The women I know who are super polished and put together are often afraid of losing control. I, myself, can hide behind my analytical attire, hiding my more emotional self with the fear that it will not be accepted.

I’m trying to use my lessons from childhood to shed this uniform, this comfortable shield.

It’s scary at first, revealing who you are, but the freedom that comes from shedding the uniform is unbelievable. We are more alike underneath than we often realize and yet we each have our own unique beauty. Don’t hide yourself – you have much to offer as you are.

But I still caution you against Googling “Naked baseball players.”