We were both there when we met. We were both there when we chose to unite our lives. We were there when our amazing child came into the world. And we were there when we both put ink to paper, choosing to close the chapter of our marriage. Together.
“It is one of the hardest rights you will ever have to make”
I don’t expect anyone to understand why I do things the way I do. But I would much rather walk through glass barefoot and say that I did, bleed everywhere and recover than not do it to avoid feeling something or because the ghosts of fear swirled in my bones.
And feel I have, and will.
Initialing many times over, tears streaming down my face, more scribbles, dates and thumbprints.
It’s done. Fin.
I’m equal parts relieved and equal parts destroyed. I know he feels the same way. In the end, we both knew that our path traveled together would only be treacherous and arduous when we were both carrying as much as we were. Satchels of resent, “should have”, blame, anger and hurt… there comes a time where you just have to let it all go or we will only continue to get dragged. Road rash isn’t pretty.
And yet, I couldn’t have imagined having done it any other way because when you choose to let something go for all the right reasons, I can look back and say I have no regrets. I saw, I learned some, I grew some, we have an incredible daughter to share and raise. I gave him the best I had to give, but sometimes love just isn’t enough. And when it fractures into pieces, sometimes it ends in a state that no amount of glue can repair.
I’m sure not a lot of soon to be divorced couples walk into the parking lot after signing their papers, holding hands, with tears and thunder in their ribcages, exchange long embraces, words, apologies and then go have lunch together.
We never were conventional. And we’re not about to start now.
The love remains… it’s just transforming into something *different* at the moment. All I know is that the year is coming to a close and I couldn’t move forward without some form of closure, even if it’s something as illusionary as a bond forged on a piece of paper that needed to be dissolved.
2019 has been one of the most turnkey years of my life. One of the most challenging, disappointing and heart shattering… yet transformative in a manner that I knew I would never be able to see or feel, unless we parted ways to find ourselves. When you don’t know who you are or what you want, how can you be that place of refuge for someone else?
I take it day by day, continuing to honor my space and needs and letting things fall where they’re supposed to without force of direction. Hard to do when you want to focus on the unknown and try to control something you just can’t see. And that’s where the lessons are…. in the discomfort of the unknown.
The growth in this past year has been exponential and this period of metamorphosis has only been a testament to who I am:
who found her bravery in uncertainty
who chose to venture into the frightening unknown instead of remaining in the safety of familiarity and comfort
who saw her worth in mirrors with no reflection
who found her voice in constricted quarters
who found her grace and integrity in difficulty
who learned to say no when required and yes even when it felt wrong or uncomfortable
who found the strength to not only forgive others, but herself.
who forges a future on nothing but sheer will, the scars in her skin, the ache and hope in her heart that there is much more to learn, see and accomplish.
And she was there all along.
This chapter is ending, but the story is far from over.
Thank you, Josh.