A Year and Counting

It's been just over a year since my husband and I separated.

We celebrated 23 years of marriage before that.  It's strange the difference a year can make in perspective.

I don't really mourn the loss of the person I was married to.  I don't mourn our life together.  I had been in mourning for the loss of self.

I'm not going to fill these pages with the ways in which he wronged me, because I'm certain I'm not perfect and did plenty wrong. 

At the end of the day, it isn't about who's right or wrong, or who's to blame.   What it's about is the fact that I don't like who I am when I'm with him.

As I learn more about who my true self is, the more I see that we were probably never meant to be together, to begin with, but I'm not sorry for that time either. 

While I don't like who I am with him, I do like who I am with my kids.  I believe that there's a reason that things happen the way they do, and that time served its purpose.

Now I have a new purpose, and after a year, I am excited to discover what that might be. 

I'm done with the labels of society that says you have to do and be this if you are this or that.  You have to act like a grandmother, for instance, I've been told.

How precisely is a grandmother supposed to act?  Why do I have to alter my true self because my kids chose to procreate?

No more will I change myself because someone that claims to love me demands it.

I always wanted my kids to have the freedom to be their true, authentic selves, and I cannot be a hypocrite.  How do I teach them that they have one life to live and to live it to the fullest if all I do is give pieces of myself away and change because they want me to be a different person?

I am finally giving myself permission to evolve into the best person I can be and to be happy.  I am happy as my default state.  That is oddly comforting.



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Justice and my personal dealings with police officers.

*The following are things that I have personally witnessed and been a part of.*  Take that for what it is.  About 10 years ago, when I still lived in one of the southern states, I had jury duty.   The case was as follows, roughly.  A guy was subject to a sting operation for selling marijuana. He was basically the local weed dealer. No evidence was presented that he sold any other drug. On the day in question, he met up with someone at a gas station to sell an ounce of marijuana. The team of police officers, and yes, there was a team of them set up the sting.  Around 5..maybe 7...Both exits were supposed to be blocked to prevent escape. One police officer was not in his designated place, so the exit that was supposed to be blocked was not. The police officer did not block the exit, he pulled up to the gas pump.  (This is relevant, just bear with me) Anyway, our suspect pulled in and realized in a hurry that he was about to be arrested, so he ran. There was a police officer that was in f
Read more

Learning to Live Again

I have been staring at these blank pages for a very long time now trying to find the courage to type the words that are pent up in my heart. Fear is a weird feeling for me.  As a rule, I am not a fearful person.  It's conditioning. Once upon a time, I used to be a vibrant, albeit geeky kind of person.  Alive. In love with life. Not afraid to try new things, or meet new people. Now, I rarely leave my house and a lot of days I can barely muster up the courage to get out of bed.  I thank the makers of the universe daily for the love of my animals. You can only live in a state of fight or flight for so long before it takes its toll.  I am a fighter, though, and while this seems interminable, there will come a day where I am happy to get out of bed again.  I am seeing flashes of my old self occasionally, and that gives me hope. I am cracked, people.  Cracked in a way I would never wish upon a soul.  I would say broken, but I'm not broken.  I will mend my cracks with gold,
Read more