I started this post almost a year ago – I found it today in the dredges of my laptop – a stark reminder of how things can change so drastically yet, in many ways, remain poignantly the same. The lesson in humility is not lost here.

By all accounts I have had a good year; a lot has changed. I am learning, and settling in to my new life – I’ve started dating again and am in a fun, new relationship. My kids are doing well – we’re doing life together in a magnificent way.

My BF stayed the weekend at my house and no one died – so, there’s that.

It was awkward, but not lethal.

In the making of my new life, I’ve taken my time to decide what I want and lay down its foundation. I’ve come to the harsh reality that a new relationship, and inviting someone else in, needs to be a part.

We’re not meant to do life alone, even though there are places in me that scream it would be much easier that way.

My post-divorce checklist looks something like this:

I have a confession. I used to think I was better than other people. I don’t want to say I was ever a racist, but I might have been. It’s hard not to be when you grow up under the guise of white privilege in the United States.  My confession: I had little understanding for those who were different from me. And I didn’t need to – I never stepped out of my realm of convenience (my bubble).  My life was good. I attributed that goodness to something I had done; but the truth is there is nothing I could have ever done that would explain the level of status to which I was born.

This is a fact of being a white person in America. You believe you’re just a little bit better than everyone else.

Sometimes people aren't very nice. Or rather they're not considerate and intentional with their words and the implications of such. 

People are hurting. And hurt people hurt people.

It really is that simple. 

How many tears have I cried over these things? How many have a held back?  Stoic -  as they begin to eat me alive from the inside out. 

It was about 6 months ago. I decided I wanted to focus a bit more on my writing. Besides this blog, I had yet to take on a personal writing project.

I think in words – filtering almost every experience through the grid of how I would string letters together to create something meaningful to describe it.

How would this scenario play out?

What would this person do?

That person?

I did what any aspiring writer would do in my situation, and Googled local writing groups – I hoped to find something near me, and people – to help me in my new endeavor. I found several that fit the bill, arriving on a Tuesday evening clad in my standard jeans and T-shirt – yes high heels are required uniform for me– just to give you a picture.

Love hurts.

Sometimes it’s beautiful and lovely, of course. But sometimes it just effing hurts.

People offend, they do hurtful things – this cannot be avoided. I do it, you do it – we all do it.

So, let’s talk about how we handle the hurt that comes our way.

It is so easy to take offense, hold a grudge, lash out in anger.

Holding a grudge is another way to avoid feeling pain – and living this way will stunt your growth. If you’re not growing and changing, then you’re not on the path the becoming who you were created to be and this results in a perpetual cycle – of becoming angry at every offense.

The room was dark, and my head spinning as I listened to the clock silently tick its way toward dawn. Why did I feel the way I did? I was confused all the time. A constant struggle to attain ‘rightness’ with the people and the world around me, a fight that was pointless, and failing with each attempt. It was keeping me up at night and it was slowly killing me.

Dysfunction, addiction, and codependent relationships are all a part of my story – they are a part of many of our stories.

What we believe to be true about ourselves and the world around us shapes our future. This month, I'm exploring the lies we believe: about ourselves; about others; about the world around us - and how these lies impact us and our relationships.

 My grass is dead.

The irrigation system was leaking and so I turned it off to check and see what was going on – which would have been fine, except that I forgot about it and then I was gone most of March. And so now, the grass it dead. Not that it was looking all that great before any of this happened. But I’ll tell you, it sure isn’t looking good now. I’ve decided gardening and yard work really aren’t ‘my thing.’

I’m moving and I don’t know where or when exactly.

The stress of starting a business has sparked my habit of late-night snacking. This has led to a weight gain of about 5 (10?) pounds - not enough to sink me, but enough that my shorts don’t fit quite right. I haven’t had to worry about my weight for a long time, and I’m disappointed in myself – I don’t want to fall into old patterns of self-destruction. Because as it turns out, emotional eating is ‘my thing.’

Feeling crazy in a relationship? The problem might not be you - you might be experiencing gaslighting.  Gaslighting is a form of emotional abuse where the victim is left questioning and doubting their own feelings and sanity. Gaslighting is a power play for the perpetrator to gain control over the victim. 

I recorded a video for my Divorcing Well FB group, which you can see here.

It was the end of the line. She found herself in an impossible situation and everything had to change. All of it. Every single bit. Some caused by her own mistakes some by the mistakes of others but it didn’t matter because it was all impacting her; and now she was the one who had to make the tough decisions.

One -by- one her friends began to fade away, distancing themselves from a nasty situation for fear that some of her misfortune rub off.

I don’t do resolutions.

But, it’s 2-0-1-7 and I’m taking a basic inventory. How am I feeling? About my physical and emotional health? About my relationships? About my parenting? What do I want to know and understand more clearly about myself? About the people and the world around me?

What gives me that feeling of dread? What keeps me up at night?

Am I brave enough to face these things?

I’ve noticed a pattern in my behavior recently.

“Smoke and mirrors, baby. Smmmoke and mirrors.” We were discussing the art of keeping up appearances and those who contrive to live the perfect life.

Huge houses, new cars, extravagant vacations with no real money in the bank.  Picture perfect holiday cards while chaos, abuse, and broken relationships dominate the family dynamic. Obtaining the latest gadget for the sake of acquisition without consideration of its actual need and usefulness.

Bigger, newer, faster – often digs another layer in the hole of our discontent. Because everybody knows these things can’t make you happy. Yet, we all try and see if they will.

I get it, I am that person – or I was that person. To some extent, we are all that person. 

It started in middle school. Science class was held in a portable outside and it became a game for one boy to grab my *ss as we walked there each day. The next year, another great game was created when a different boy would pull me into the band closet and try to kiss me while his friends held the door. Every year, it was my great pleasure to be greeted by the PE teacher as I emerged from the locker room after dressing out, “would you like fries to go with that shake?” he would ask as he watched my friends and me head down to the school field.

In my house there is an ugly green couch. It was given to me by a friend when I was in the middle of divorce and in the process of a considerable downsize. I was literally cutting my square footage of living space in half and walking away from large spaces in favor of smaller, more manageable ones. The oversized furniture it took to fill up my old space was never going to work in this new place. Sometimes a purge is necessary – sometimes you should not adorn your new surroundings with your old materials.

Her boss was angry. He wanted her to begin planting the seeds to a co-worker about the eventual phasing out of her job. When she refused to do so, the treatment was harsh and his abuse became focused on her. Suddenly, she could do no right.

His wife was angry. It seemed like he could do nothing to please her. Most days she blew up his phone with angry texts in order to get him to do what she wanted. ‘If you were worth anything.. .’ ‘If you cared at all.. .’ ‘If you ever leave me, I’ll make your life a living hell.’ All the while, they served on the local church council and were members of the best clubs in town – they were modeling the perfect family. This was going to be a long life.
 

She had been in a loveless marriage for years – decades maybe. If asked, she talked about it openly, and even those who didn’t know somehow knew. A mutual friend approached me, “it’s become the elephant in the room,” she said. “She can’t see how much this is impacting her.” Over the years, this relationship had stolen her joy, her beauty. It was making her bitter and angry – her sense of self was seeping out at the seams. There is nothing quite as lonely as being in a lonely marriage.
 

“I just want to be certain – I want to know what’s going to happen, and I want to make sure I don’t get hurt.” I was silent, listening to my friend as she was carefully spelling out the details of a new romantic interest. Her voice was filled with enthusiasm and a little dread. New relationships are scary and she was afraid of the unknown.

In life, there is so much uncertainty.

I can’t move my right arm – which is a problem because as it turns out, having mobility in both arms is very useful. A trip to the doctor confirmed a frozen shoulder they say is a result of an overly ambitious gym routine combined with natural wear and tear on my 44 - year - old body.  Or maybe there is no real reason, no one can tell me for sure.
 

There is a time for everything.  And timing is everything. Some say things happen according to God’s timing. But I’m convinced it is God who is waiting on us.