Love is the big booming beat that covers up the noise of hate.
It’s been a long time since I posted anything here. The winter days of quiet reflection, for me, coincided with some crucial family changes.
And I’ve hesitated to write about it. In fact I’ve been having a whole writer’s block episode over it. It’s hard to tell a story when it’s too close, when you’re neck deep in it. See, I wanted to wait till I had slick distance and could be all cool and objective. I didn’t really want you to see my cracks. Confession: I’m terrified of being vulnerable in front of people. But I got to thinking about you. About the kinds of things you share with me. And, as it is my sincerest hope that our connection be genuine and based on real life experience. I knew the time was now. (Isn’t it always?)
It’s through our vulnerability that we’re truly able to connect.
So here goes.
After six years together, my husband and I have separated and are planning our legal divorce.
It’s the right move. Every one of my cells is certain. But the sadness is big and surprising. It’s not at all what I would have expected. It’s not the straightforward sad of the marriage being over, vow breaking, etc.
The range of emotion and destabilization is deeper. The ways that anger, fear and regression surface during these things is hard. Everyone acts like an asshole at least once. And that’s me being extremely diplomatic. Grief is inevitable. Even if it’s a change for the better, you don’t get to bypass grieving the dissolution of a thing that just isn’t any longer. A you that isn’t any longer.
Also, the loss of other friendships is painful. Not everyone knows how to be with a friend who’s come undone. It’s loss upon loss. Fragmentation threads through everything for awhile.
The six months before we moved into our separate apartments was unspeakably stressful. We were cohabiting with each other’s discomfort, trying to re-establish a new way of relating without any room to breathe.
Out of respect for us and you, I’ll spare you all the intimate details of where it all went wrong, and just say that some people weren’t meant to be together. It’s true. But the truth is also that growth always happens. So, going forward, I intend to tell the story that my marriage was a successful one, even if it wasn’t a forever one.
Fact: We get to choose our own story. No matter what. Every time.
I’m choosing this success story for me and definitely for my boy. Sure, I see the benefits to having a life partner, I do. But continuing to carry “forever” as the only marital ideal when it just doesn’t match the reality of most American families is unfair. Kids don’t need to be told something as common as divorce is wrong. What if we just decide it’s ok to have multiple spouses in a lifetime? It’s what I’m doing. Deciding that it’s ok because it’s what’s going to happen.
Yes. I can see myself falling in love again. And maybe even again.
So my focus first and foremost has been self care. I’m doing a dietary cleanse. No dairy, sugar, gluten, soy, caffeine or alcohol. Giving my body a break from complex digestion as I move through the waves of anxiety and back into peace. I’m practicing Yin Yoga. Strength in stillness. Music, walking, reading. I got rid of more stuff because I like space more than stuff. I clean my (new!) apartment in a regular act of gratitude.
Taking good care of myself gives me the energy to help my boy see that his family is as normal as normal can be, that life brims with change and sometimes intense discomfort and relationships are complicated. I want him to understand that sometimes the best way to love someone is across some geographical and emotional distance, but regardless, our love for him prevails.
Love can mean so many things. But it still is, above all, the big thing. So big that it could never fit in one tiny little box.
Putting Love in a tiny box would be the worst kind of tragedy.
And then there is my other baby. My Health Coaching business. (Feed Me, Darling will be one year old May 1st! I’m so proud!) Since I started coaching, I have had the opportunity to work with so many incredible women (looking at you). Helping eradicate food cravings, stop self sabotage, choose which story you are going to tell and gain control over your health and life. I’ve been witness to the best kind of miracles.
I can hardly believe my job is so cool.
One of the heavies of separation is definitely going from dual income to single. The moneyfear bit makes my shoulders move closer to my ears every time. And as a single mother, it’s a really bit hit. I vacillate wildly between feeling terrified and brave. Because while being an entrepreneur is amazing and liberating, the burden of earning is all on me.
Like everything, it’s a mixed bag. It has it’s awful moments, but also there are benefits.
It requires I feel scared and keep going anyway.
It forces me to hold tight to a big vision where impossible things become probable and then finally present themselves, suffused with ease.
It helps me hold that vision for others as well. To see the uspurgence of financially independent, healthy and powerful women as a thrilling change to our social structure.
It requires me to do my very best work. And to keep going. Every day.
If necessity (and maybe even a titch of fear) is the impetus for all of that, well, it’s hard not to be grateful for that also.
And I really am. Aside from all the ups and downs, the anxiety and drudgery, I am grateful beyond words for my health and the health of my boy, that I have this business that feeds me. And you. A business that connects me to you. And though I don’t know all of you in a face to face sort of way, I feel this crazy love for you. You have come into my life, felt a resonant chord and put your email into the little subscribe box. It means so much.
One of the most important things I’ve learned from this transformational work is that, the key that fits into the lock of change is human connection – highest potential reflection. It matters more than anything. Knowledge is easy to come by and readily available. We all know what we could or should be doing to feel better, or to feel complete. But your spirit isn’t moved by what you know. It’s really about who is supporting you, holding space for you while you come a little bit undone.
So, let’s stick together. Let’s dump out all those tight little boxes of love and let it wing. These huge life transitions are not just happening to me, or to us, they are happening all around us. To everyone. And no matter what we are dealing with we can be certain that we are not alone.
I’m not alone and neither are you.
A cracked heart hurts. But it allows the release of what’s no longer serving. And it gives access to a depth of compassion otherwise unavailable.
It is the darkest times that hollow out great spaces for light.
Thank you for sticking around. Thank you for reading. And thank you for your kind and considerate responses to my writing. Please keep them coming.
I absolutely love hearing from you.
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