To Camdyn on her 8th Birthday

Dear Camdyn,
It's hard to believe that you are 8 already. 8. My favorite number and also what is shaping up to be my favorite age so far. You have become your own independent person, no longer requiring my help to get cereal in the morning or shower at night. You know boundaries and consequences, and yet, you still reach for my hand in a parking lot, or wrap your arms around my waist in the kitchen...just because.  


Sometimes while we are driving in the car I'll glance over at you and I can almost see what you'll look like at 16. Maybe it's the way your hair is braided down your back, or the shape of your face, or the look in your eyes as you gaze out the window...I can see you growing up and it scares me and thrills me at the same time.
Your teacher describes you as great helper and incredibly sweet, and you are. You often take Chloe under your wing. You console her when she is hurt or scared of the dark. Almost every night I find her squeezed in your bed beside you. You love her even when you are irritated with her, and I'm grateful that you have each other.  Sometimes when I've had a long day, or am feeling overwhelmed, you'll hug me and remind me that I'm your only mom, you'll tell me that I am the best mom ever, or that I'm pretty, or that no one can replace me.  That's the sweetness in you.  You are sensitive yet strong.

. 

My wish for you over the coming year is that you continue to work hard in school; that you embrace your love for reading and knowledge. I hope you continue to feel loved and cherished in both of your homes and by all the people who surround you. I hope you hang on to your dreams and that smile of yours and that you never let anyone burn either of those out. My promise to you, is that I will do my very best to give you the life that you deserve. Although we are no longer on the road we started on, I believe that the one we are on is leading us exactly where we were meant to go.



Be bold. Be Strong. Stay happy.

I love you forever & always,
Momma

Skewed

This morning was no different than any other, really.  I woke up before the sun.  The first question I asked myself after "What time is it?" was "Are my kids at home or am I here alone?"  I remembered that they are with their dad, and then I tossed and turned for the better part of two hours. 

By the time my feet hit the floor at 8:15, I had already had a really long and much needed conversation with myself. 

You see, for the better part of the past year, I have been doing my best to keep my head above the tide.  I've been treading water, swimming still, just doing enough to get by.  I've missed chunks of time, just surviving.  I've been tuned out and unplugged, not only from friendships and family, but at times from my own children.  I just simply didn't have anything left to give.

This morning I realized that my perspective has been horribly...

skewed.

I have narrowly focused on the little things and have neglected the bigger picture.

I have far more blessings than I have worries at the moment.  Better than that, I have options.  I have control.  I have my health, a home, and healthy kids.  I, for the most part, have the world at my fingertips.  And while I've been focused on what I've lost and what I'm searching for, I've displaced energy from where it most belongs....On my little girls.

So, today I carry my head a little higher.  There is an extra pep in my step, and at 4:30 I will pick up my lovies from school and we will spend the evening together, just the 3 of us.  And I'm going to give them back what they need the most.  Me.  All of me. 

Corner Unturned

It's quiet in my house, the girls sleeping soundly upstairs.  I sit at my kitchen table in the glow of my monitor, a martini an arms length away, and a need to write once again.

It's a familiar feeling really, the one that I need to describe.  The one that chews away at my soul and seeks to destroy my peace and contentment.  I'm getting good at loving and losing.  I'm getting good at being the losing competitor in a three way game of tug-o-war.  Or, maybe it's not that I'm the loser, I'm just the one who is expected to be strong enough to walk away.  It's a position I loathe.  It's a position I'm familiar with.

One would think that the demise of a dating relationship that is cloaked in brevity would be no trial compared to ending a nearly 10 year marriage.  But, one would be wrong.  The scars, their healing hastened by the joy and fireworks of a new start, slowly begin to break open again.  The feelings of inadequacy and rejection that hover just below the surface, squashed down under the hope that this time it'll be functional, and that this time I'll be truly happy, resurface.

It's not just a breakup...it's another cataclysmic meltdown.  It's another failure, it's another short coming, it's another WTF is the matter with me? moment.  It's more than I asked for but it's not more than I can handle.

They say it'll be okay.  They tell me to focus on my kids and my "ME" time, but what they don't understand is that my "ME" time ebbs away at my heart; My house empty, void of the sounds and needs of children, a reminder of my personal failures.  He should be here, in my kitchen, grilling dinner and laughing with me.  But he's not.  The silence disturbing.  The loneliness suffocating.  It's like my life is on repeat.  I worry it's a cycle.

It's oxymoronic, really, that I can't stand to be alone with me, because I actually love me.  And I probably couldn't drum up better company for myself, then, well, myself.   So why is it that being alone pre-marriage and pre-children is such a different animal than being alone post?  Have I morphed in to some co-dependent version of my former self?  I think not.  That's not me. 

I know me.  I'm loyal to a fault and commitment and monogamy are my bag.  It's the way that I am wired.  It won't ever change.   I'm energetic and independent and hilarious when I'm not busy being serious.  I'm keenly familiar with my good traits and the bad, and co-dependency is not one of them.

So, I sit here, holding metaphorical gauze on my wounds.  I'm doing my best to be appreciative of the ride, and the experience, and the ability to "grow" once again. 

If I'm going to date, I'm going to have to risk, and as much as the burn sucks, it's worth the heat of the flame.  Because the gift of opening one's heart, being real, and raw and vulnerable with someone new, is something I just won't sacrifice for the sake of playing it safe.  This is what life is about.  This is living.  And I'll be damned if any of my past experiences encroach on that. 

It's a corner I just won't unturn.         

Settled

It's been just over a year since that metaphorical house dropped out of the sky and landed squarely on top of me.  It's already been over a year.  Surprising to me, how quickly a year goes by...even a stressful one. 

There were days when all I could do was survive. 

There were moments when I wished I would vanish.

There were nights when I prayed I wouldn't see daylight. 

There were little girls that needed their mother in a capacity that was overwhelming.

But then time happened and things changed.  I started across the bridge, one foot in front of the other, and decided not to look back.  And, the further across that bridge I walked, the happier I became. 

The past year hasn't been easy, but it also hasn't been regrettable.  As many hardships and trials were encompassed in 2012, there have also been moments of unparalleled happiness.

Happiness in making my life my own.  Happiness in my independence and freedom.  Happiness in raising my little girls the best way I know how.  Happiness in rediscovering me.  Happiness in new beginnings. 

So, it's settled.  The terms are settled and the dust is settling.  While there used to be dust storms so huge they would cloud my vision and choke me for air; now, the dust kicks up around the tops of feet and it goes no further than that. 

I am happier.

It is settled.

Where My Mind Is At...

Hi. 

Remember me? 

It's been far too long since I've used this space for the purpose it was created for.  My space, which has been protectively sheltered by my attorney and is now only viewable to a limited audience. 

As this divorce encroaches on almost every aspect of my life, it has not overcome it.  In my quest to remain positive and find the beauty in the changes life has brought me, I'm finding me. 

I had a conversation not long ago with a friend and she asked me a pointed question.  She looked me straight in the eye and said "But were you really happy?  Were you?"  The question, so bold and forthright, I could not answer.  What is happiness to me?  Is it stability, contentment, routine?  Do I know a happiness that out lies that?  This clearly was not his version of happiness.   My happiness was his boredom, or maybe I wasn't really happy.  Maybe. 

In the weeks that have followed since my last post, I've been doing my best to embrace this journey.  I'm doing my best to remember the reasons that I am HERE on this road.  I'm focusing on what I deserve.  I am creating a new normal.

I no longer miss my husband.  It's strange to write that; strange that after nearly 15 years together, and only 8 weeks apart, the heart begins to heal.   I am past the point of chasing him, past the point of reminding him how badly he screwed up our lives, I'm past the point of wanting him to feel a hurt that parallels my own.  I don't hurt like that for him any longer.   He no longer has that power.  My home is no longer empty without him.  I no longer have to keep his closet door shut, hoping the pain would stay locked inside of it. 

Life does move on.   

Instead, I feel safe; safeguarding my heart and my children and keeping my lifelines close to my chest.  I am realizing that when he left, he gave me back a piece of myself; the piece that was riddled with insecurities and doubt; the piece that couldn't trust and couldn't love and was paralyzed in fear of the future.  He shackled me with chains of self-loathing, and despair, and inadequacy, tearing me down at every turn. 

When the door closed behind him, those chains were broken. 

I am none of those things.

I used to worry that I would be too battered, too broken and wounded to ever move on.  I worried that there would be emotional scars, and trauma, and walls that would need to be torn down.  But, I don't think that will be the case.  I think what's here...what's left...what is being rebuilt, is far better already than what was there before.  My wounds are healing, with time my heart will be whole. 

And that's where the small glimpse of beauty lies in this process.    

The Aftermath

**Go ahead and press play below**


I get it now. 

I get the reason why women stay. 

The stay because it is easier.  They stay because it is less painful.  They stay because it's safe.  They stay because they value the memories, the history, the dream, the financial security, or their family values, more than they value themselves. 

That was me 3 weeks ago.  Staying.  Trying.  Sacrificing.  I thought that was hard.  Daily, I had to struggle with my morals and the example I was setting for my children.  I would constantly weigh what I had vs. what I deserve.  I exhausted myself trying to be everything to a man who didn't value me or respect me.  I endlessly tried to make him happy, when really, he will never be happy.  He won't be happy with me, or with HER.  He won't be happy until he gets happy with himself, and that's going to take a lot of work and time. 

I thought all of that was hard.

No. 

This is hard.  Divorce is hard.  It brings out the worst in people.  It's hard to take the high road.  It's hard to "be the bigger person."  Nothing about this is easy.

He wants to argue over finances and money.  I want to argue over hurt and pain and shattered dreams.  I want an apology that covers more ground than "I fucked up" and "I made bad choices."  I want to know that SHE is worth sacrificing 15 years, 2 girls' futures, and everything we worked for.  And, he can't tell me that, because he knows it's not.  Nothing is worth this mess....not a million dollars, or a girl in spandex.  Nothing.

We spew hatred back and forth like wildfire.  What a thin line it is between love and hate...and then one of us extends the olive branch and all is fine, for a moment, until something else reignites the fury.  The gap used to be a crack...now it is a crater; the distance between our hearts is large and vast.  This. is. hard.  How did we get here?  This is really the road to happiness?  Whose?

There are days where I feel good.  I feel like a weight has been lifted.  I feel at peace with where I am, and who I am.  And more importantly, what I stand for matches up with how I live my life.  I no longer have to care about what is going on behind my back.  I no longer have to snoop and spy and look for evidence.  The only people I need to care about now are the people who truly love me.  I can now find joy in going to a 3 year old's birthday party and not worry that he is wishing he were somewhere else.  I can live in the moment with my girls and give them 100% of me.  I no longer have to divide my time between saving my marriage and paying attention to my kids.

And there are nights like last night...at 10 pm there were 3 girls crying atop my king size bed.  Crying because change is hard.  Crying for what is lost and different.  There were sniffles, and tissues, and then good night kisses.  There were 3 heads all lined up on the pillows....three bodies, all touching, all needing comfort and security.  3 people just trying to make it through the night.  3 people clinging to each other because we are all we have.

And then there are days like today...I woke up to Chloe's puffy cheeks on my pillow and I actually thought for a moment that I am the most blessed woman in the world, because I get to wake up to my kids; little girls who ran in and out of the bathroom, giggling, while I flicked water on them from my shower.  There is still joy in life. 

And then we piled in the car and headed out on our 1 hour commute.  And, I had to tell the camp counselor about our issues at home.  "Camdyn's daddy is no longer living with us.  We've been a little bit of an emotional wreck.  Camdyn still needs to follow the rules like everyone else, she just might need a hug or some emotional support after being reprimanded."  Her response, "I'm so sorry.  I was wondering what was going on with her.  Thanks for letting us know."   Somehow I choked out that entire explanation without crying.  Somehow.

This is the Aftermath of an affair.  Devastation that far exceeds the "jollies" of two selfish individuals. There are no winners. There are consequences.  There are tears...but there is also hope. 

There is hope and a new dream, in the light of the aftermath.

Wordless Wed - Status

Sometimes there aren't words...but there are pins.

Source: skinnyfit-thebestyou.tumblr.com via Carol on Pinterest

 

 

 

Yes.  That's who I am.