Spring is in full swing on my side of town. Shorts, flip flops and strapless tops abound in the streets. Peeling away our winter wear to expose as much skin to the sun as possible.
The seasons are changing and so it goes with life. Everywhere I turn people are moving on with the I lives. New homes, new babies, new marriages, new loves. My life seems stuck in the mud and I watch with envy as the world moves around me. Trappe partly by circumstance and partly by fear. The groun isn’t sinking, but the grip feels tight.
Patience. The worst 4 letter word!
I am locked in my head. Wondering about the sputtering the dating world provides. I have trust issues. Red flags seem to block my view from seeing possibilities. I yell at myself to let my guard down, but my past refuses. Rightly so. As much as I want to move that part of my life forward, I have too much at risk to make ridiculous mistakes. This isn’t the time for me to just settle. I believe too much in what I have to give a new relationship to him into a why not relationship.
So I watch the blooming season. Observer of the beauty about to unfold. Aware of the anxiousness deep within me – the competing desire for change and stability. I open my mind to what success will look like and dream of how it may be achieved.
Spring. Hope. Change. And one more cance to learn patience. That horrible lesson I’ve stubbornly fought for so long!
It seems this time every year studies come out on divorce statistics across the U.S. My state ranks fairly low in divorce rates which causes my social sites to blow up with everyone self congratulating themselves on putting in the hard work it takes to stay married. I feel judged and a failure.
This is when I want to point out that out state also ranks highest in domestic abuse. When I want to take my “expertise” on the married population and shine a light on the ignored under belly of our culture. A culture which is so insistent on staying married, everyone is willing to turn a blind eye to whay really happens behind closed doors.
But really it’s only my guilt of not being able to keep my marriage that drivese to those thoughts. I only see a microcosm of reality and there are an abundance of happily married couples. I wonder if women who leave husbands who beat them or are drug abusers feel this kind of guilt.
I can tell you all the abuse I suffered, but my wounds are internal. Scars upon my soul that don’t show when I take my clothes off. I have no X-rays of the damage that’s been done to my psyche or medical records to document the trauma.
Each time I meet someone knew I have to build my case of non-insanity. I’m not full if dramam or prone to exaggeration. Yet, when I begin my explanation I come across as certifiable because my abuse is open to other’a interpretation. Not that I invite it, but folks are more than willing to provide it. All the ways I should own the problem instead of trying to “blame” the ex.
Each time these stats come out I feel a great new to defend myself. To plead my case and ask for mercy. I still want to be among the accepted because my circumstances were beyond the normal. I did work. I did try so hard. I fought. And yet here I am, divorced. A stat, but not the kind welcomed.
Everything in lfe takes practice. From the time we’re born until we leave the earth, we spend our time in respective tasks trying to become masters of our domain. Eating, walking, talking, reading, driving, working, flirting, dating, and on and on.
As I have expanded my wings since the divorce, I’ve not bed a change in what I fantasize my dream man to declare. At first I wanted someone to find me sexy and compelling. I longed to be so attractive they’re overwhelmed by my intoxicating sensuality. Then my dreams moved to being found beautiful. Someone who would see me beyond simply physical and be attracted to more of my soul. Now, I wish for someone to fall in love with me. To desire to be with me during the boring times as well as share in the erotic.
I wonder if that will happen. That’s where the practice comes into play. I’ve had tremendous practice being sexual and therefore have confidence I cand find a fuck. But when it comes to that same confidence in finding love, I just don’t have the experience to draw from. The only time I’ve been loved is by my ex who was not capable of truly loving me. So, as I continue to approach the dating world, I am saddened and discouraged by the lack of connection.
I remind myself that time will prove itself and eventually will find someone. Patience is not my strong suit and I continue to have opportunity to practice that too!
My mom sent me the diet she did when I was 5. She wrote a quick note saying she thought I’d have fun reminiscing about the diet I did when I was young. Wheni was FIVE! It took me a couple weeks to review the plan as my reminiscing wasn’t necessarily a happy stroll.
Overall, the plan is similar to any modern day plan. High proteins, low carbs, lots of veritables. They recommend a breakfast of one egg, one piece of toast or cereal and half orange or half grapefruit. It’s been about 15 years since I’ve had a grapefruit and I love them! So, in a strange way I am glad she sent it out even I it does make me think of my inadequatey.
Lately I’ve had a lot of anxiety thinking about being naked with a man. I’ve been hitting the dating sites lately so it’s been on my mind, though the chances of anything happening soon are nil.
I was talking with a friend about my dating future. As we talked, it became evident my desires have changed – for the better. What I miss the most is the companionship that is built-in as a couple. Someone to come home to, someone to go do things with, and someone who doesn’t mind just being together. Of course sex will be an important thing that comes with a healthy relationship, but that’s not the first my first priority. Well, at least night right now….that doesn’t mean it won’t creep up again.
A holistic approach to your overall health includes finding balance in all areas of your life. This past couple weeks have been a personal testament to the theory.
I’m down with what feels to be my 5th cold in the last month. This time changing over y a sinus infection. My immune system seems to be a strainer rather than a coat of armor.
I think about the outside effects that cause me feel weak. The constant attacks by the ex. I ignore them – for the most part – but they still sit in my head taking up way too much space. The issues with the kids has caused me stress too. Normal stress., but stress all the same.
And as of late, my spirit has been lagging. Lent gas always been my season of rejuvenation. A time to reconnect and reconcile. Some reason I haven’t had tha a-ha epiphany as in years past.
All of this is circular. One in balance with the other and the other. My spirit lags which makes me vulnerable to the ex’s attacks which makes me vulnerable to the sickness. Or I’m run down from the sickness making me exposed to the negative stressors of my ex which leaves me feeling further from God and more angry he’s left me in the same situation. Notated how you slice it, the point is I need to get my triangle back to a right angle.
I’d like to figure it out and know where to focus my energy. Mostly I’d like to be on a deserted island with a man who loves me and no responsibility. An escape – or a permanent change of location :) At this point I think I’d settle for someone who’d be willing to snuggle with me at night and do the dishes in the morning! Dreams.
A series of events and conversations this week has had me in a dark place .
I feel my greatest strength I bring to any relationship is compassion an nurturing. I think about the needs of the other person, sometimes to the point I lose myself.
Foolishly I believe that demonstrating these values, others will reflect them back to me. But they don’t. My kids are going through transitions in their lives which give them opportunity to grow and make their own decisions. It’s this opportunity which causes me the most pain and hurt.
I’m not the first mother to be hurt by their kids. Each of us go through this time of kids breaking away. I’ve made the decision that they’re old enough to be independent and I do not need to keep my life on hold.
No longer do I need to rush home to make them dinner or sit in a room ignored. I don’t need to avoid dinner or movie invites in order to help them feel included. This allows me new found freedom.
And after all these bombardments, I receive this text from a friend who seems to know to know exactly what I need and send me random messages.
Life. It’s just life.
It’s only the rain. The drops of water on the sidewalk which evaporate with the sun. The droplets which wet your jacket and drip upon your shoes. There could be a deluge of water, wind, thunder and lightening, but still it’s only the rain. No matter how hard it blusters. No matter if an umbrella is needed to protect against the increasing splash. It’s still only the rain.
You may want to scream at the sky, “stop your howling air!” Or yell at the clouds to move past your house. But it’s only the rain. The force with which you fight this rage upon you only takes your energy. The rain washes over you leaving you feelin cold and violated, but there’s nothing more than wetness upon your face. Temporary.
This accumulated water will not tear apart the sidewalk. It won’t destroy the earth you walk upon. It cannot take down buildings and take down structure because it’s only the rain. Once the sky tantrum has yielded, the view is washed clean. Better than before. No haze. No gloominess. It’s brighter and easier to navigate because it’s only the rain that’s briefly moved through. A spec on the timeline of life.
I’ve spent a lot of time here complaining of my situation. Wrapped up thinking I’d be in this place forever. Not truly understanding that thing move and change. Life is dynamic.
I was told today that I would be lonely all of my life because there’s no one who would put up with my horridness. And I laughed. I laughed at how ridiculous it was that someone else could determine my fate and my happiness. A slap in my face by my friend reality.
I laughed because the mere words, coming from someone else, forced me to see things for what they really are. Temporary. These moments of insecurity are like the raindrops clearing the way for me to see a better tomorrow. Life is good. I’m buying an umbrella and sitting in the rainsoaked garden.