New Chapters

When I first started this blog, I had no idea how I was going to craft my life.  I was desperate to escape my unhealthy marriage, coming out of cancer treatment, unemployed, with next to no savings and way too much debt.  In the header, I wonder out loud how I will "return to the workforce" and "get my financial life in order" while getting through divorce.

And I did it.  I really did it!

I am approaching the one year anniversary of my employment.  I have paid down debt through a refinance, and I actually have a little savings account.  (Nowhere near what it "should" be, but I no longer stress nightly about car repairs or groceries.)  The divorce is final, and my beautiful daughter is doing well.

So, it's time for me to move on.  I refuse to live my life stuck in my divorce, and while I don't have my entire life figured out (ha! does anyone?) I no longer live thinking about divorce all the time.  I'm moving up Maslow's pyramid, thinking about the great wide world and my place in it.  My blog has served the great purpose of helping me to process my life's events, but the reasons I set forth for having a blog have come to pass, and it's time to end PollyAnna's Divorce.

I'm moving on to other things in my life.  Serious writing - the kind where I actually draft it and edit it, not just spill whatever comes to mind.  Travel.  Career advancement.  Volunteering for causes I believe in.  Sharing time with friends.  Reading.  And of course, being with my beautiful daughter, teaching her and learning from her and just plain enjoying her.

I am so grateful to each of my readers here for caring about me, and for sharing your stories with me.  I think that it's so important to change the divorce paradigm from one where angry adults hurl insults at one another to one where two adults acknowledge that it doesn't work but that there were lessons learned and beautiful children gained.  If you found me here, perhaps that is what you were looking for....and I hope you found it.

My relationship with my ex is often strained, but somehow we have found a way to a co-parenting relationship that works well enough.  Not a minute goes by that I do not mourn that my life could not have had the happy marriage I craved, that my daughter's nuclear family had to be so broken...but not a minute goes by that I am not grateful to have put my ugly marriage behind me.  I hope that readers here see those two sides, and know that if I could set aside my anger to find some peace for my daughter AND for myself, maybe it is possible for them, too.  That if I can navigate the rough waters between being a stay at home mom and a single working mom, they can too.  That if I can land on my feet, they can too.

There will be future challenges - of course there will.  There will be future joys, too.  But the time has come to end this chapter, to focus on what is to come.  I'm no longer a woman fighting through divorce: I've survived that battle, and now I'm putting it behind me, taking its lessons and its scars with me, but refusing to let it define me as a human being.  The divorce and its aftermath will last a lifetime, I have no doubt about that, but it is no longer the central part of my existance, and for that I am grateful.

I don't know what the future will bring.  I have many hopes and dreams, and these days, I'm working on them more than I'm working on staying afloat.  I am grateful.

I wish you all the best.  May you, too, find that distant shore, and may you, too find peace.

*****

And as my parting gift, I leave you with a favorite poem.  May you know what kindness is.

http://www.elise.com/q/poetry/naomi.htm

Kindness by Naomi Shihab Nye Before you know what kindness really is you must lose things, feel the future dissolve in a moment like salt in a weakened broth. What you held in your hand, what you counted and carefully saved, all this must go so you know how desolate the landscape can be between the regions of kindness. How you ride and ride thinking the bus will never stop, the passengers eating maize and chicken will stare out the window forever. Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness, you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho lies dead by the side of the road. You must see how this could be you, how he too was someone who journeyed through the night with plans and the simple breath that kept him alive. Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside, you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing. You must wake up with sorrow. You must speak to it till your voice catches the thread of all sorrows and you see the size of the cloth. Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore, only kindness that ties your shoes and sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread, only kindness that raises its head from the crowd of the world to say it is I you have been looking for, and then goes with you every where like a shadow or a friend.

Naomi Shihab Nye from The Words Under the Words: Selected Poems

Vulnerable

It has been over a year and a half since I asked for a divorce.
It has been almost a year since I landed at my current job.
It has been seven months since my ex moved out.
It has been one month since my divorce.

I'm feeling restless, and I'm not sure why.

Maybe it's because I live in a perpetual state of exhaustion. 

Maybe it's because I wish I had more figured out.

But I'm restless.

Really restless.

There's something missing.  What is it?  Is it wanting to move to the next level at work?  Am I mothering to the best of my ability?  Is it because I'm not writing? 

Am I lonely?

Damnit, I've worked too hard to be lonely.

And I sureashell don't believe that I need rescuing.  (Just for the record, I believe that hell is what we create when we don't live up to our own expectations.  Ironic, no?)

Except (anddont'youdarebreathawordofthistoanyone), I do feel lonely.  And I wonder if the 'something missing' is the smell of a man's neck.

I can't remember the last time I felt a strong chest under my cheek.

And you know what?  After a day of getting up at 4:30am and doing my damndest to be the best person-mother-employee-homeowner-friend I know how to be, and trying to squeeze in a bit of reading and pretend to Katherine that I don't just wish I could crawl into bed and nap for six days.... I just wish that I had someone at the end of the day to say, "You amaze me.  Come here..." and draw me into his arms.

Don't give me the feminist argument about how my opinion of myself matters more than finding a mate.  I believe that, I live that, I am that.

But today, I'm lonely, and I just wish I had someone to share all this with.

Surgery update: Scar tissue?

I am home, and thanks to my friend Lorazepam, I'm feeling pretty good.  Woozy and strange but not anxious.

The procedure was pretty quick.  It hurt a little bit, which means that I must be getting some nerves back, which is a good thing!  (But ouch.)  The doctor thinks it's scar tissue.  Scar tissue - isn't that beautiful sounding?  He told me he wouldn't worry.

I'm feeling celebratory.  And a bit high and woozy and with the munchies from the Lorazepam.  :-)

Thanks to everyone for caring.  So grateful to be back at home, in bed with a heating pad (not on the wound), snuggled down.  My girl is home sick too so we're just laying low.

Still praying that it's just scar tissue.

Amen.

Breathe...panic....ski....breathe....

Well, Katherine and I hit the slopes.  She's a bit unsure about skiing, but I remembered how much I love it.

I didn't ski for thirteen years.  It's hard to believe.  A good metaphor for my marriage: less physical activity, less speed, less outdoor time, less fun.  But I took a lesson, and I could ski an intermediate run, which doesn't make me amazing at any level but it was a blast.

Now I'm home, though, and it's hard not to be too scared.  Tomorrow, a doctor will take a knife to my breast to determine whether or not the cancer has returned.

But I skiied.  I came home, tended to Katherine (who has a nasty cold, and it's the week of the school play and she's not supposed to miss a single rehearsal...drat!).  I made chicken vegetable soup (good for Katherine's cold and my soul).  Loads of laundry.  Grocery store.  Pet store.  I'm trying to keep it together....

Breathing.  Remembering my inner light, the joy that is part of me.  Panicking.  Breathing again, remembering that I can ski again.  Panicking.  Breathing....breathing...

Thank you for your continued good wishes and prayers.

*****

In other news, Bryan dog-sat at my house (because it's his dog too and his apartment doesn't allow dogs).  He left me messes to clean up (seriously?), and he refused to say so much as "Good luck tomorrow" or "I'm sorry you have to deal with this."  Seriously?  Thirteen years of marriage, a shared child, and he can't even tell me that he hopes I don't have cancer again?  Wow.  Good riddance.  I am so better off without THAT in my life.  Sorry, hard to find a PollyAnna joy in that - just glad that I don't have to be married to someone that uncaring.

I may be PollyAnna, and I may be working hard at creating my beautiful new life, but I sure got divorced for good reasons.  It's not all roses all the time around here.  (sigh)

PollyAnna, Baby.

DEEEP breaths.  I'm PollyAnna.  I am strong and brave and optimistic, even in the face of adversity.

Ultrasound tomorrow, then we will rule this out as fat necrosis or something else that is boring and non-malignant, and I can move on.

I am busy living my life.  I have things to do.  This is not my new cancer life, this is my fabulous life where cancer and divorce are behind me.  Right?  Right!

Thank you for your continued prayers.  That little spot under my right breast (in the survivor world we call them foobs - fake boobs; I had a double mastectomy) is NOTHING.  I will it to be so.

And I'm praying.  Thanks for your continued thoughts, prayers, and good wishes.

Rejection

All these posts in one day....

This evening I am contemplating rejection: both giving it and receive it.  I'm feeling like Mr. Chocolate's lack of response today is likely a rejection (especially because I logged into OkCupid and saw that he was online, but I haven't heard from him), and I've also handed out some rejection myself.

I've gotten used to rejecting strangers to the degree where it's not too hard: the creepy guys get ignored, the cut-and-paste intro messages get ignored; the thoughtful guys that still don't interest me receive a direct response that thanks them for their message, tells them it's not a match, and wishes them well.

But today I had to reject a nice man that I'd met in person - Mr. Vanilla.  He's one of the good guys, will likely make some woman a very nice girlfriend, but he isn't for me.  Some of it is timing - he's mourning the results of his divorce, and maybe it would be different for me if he were in a different stage of things.  But some of it is just pure chemistry, of which I felt none.

What is it with chemistry?  I can just feel it - before a word is spoken.  And I don't just mean good looking people or sexual chemistry...it's something else.  I've had chemistry with ordinary looking men, and I've had no chemistry with handsome men (although of course chemistry with a handsome man is very nice).  It's either there, or it isn't, and nothing I can do can create it if it doesn't exist in its own right.

(Case in point: Bryan.  I felt no chemistry whatsoever when I met him.  I created it.  Look how that turned out!  Great kid, terrible relationship.  I'm done having kids, so I think it's safe to keep to the guys who have chemistry now.)

I suspect that the silence, or even the hesitation, from Chocolate is that he's not feeling chemistry.  That's too bad, because he's the first person I've met in person where there was still chemistry, and it was very pleasant - not mind blowing, but pleasant.

But this post - bringing it back - is about rejection, and I have decided that chemistry and rejection are directly related.  I have turned down multiple "nice guys" because there just isn't chemistry, and I've been turned down online (and now perhaps here, in person, with Chocolate) because they don't feel chemistry with me.

And here's what I'm leading up to:

It's okay.

I would love it if everyone flocked to me and I got to pick anyone I wanted and have perfect chemistry, but let's face it, that would be very time consuming and I don't have that kind of time.  Chemistry is elusive, and that is what makes it special. 

I believe that rejection is just built into the process, and it eliminates the guys who do not see how wonderful and amazing I am.  Every single person on the planet deserves to be deemed wonderful and amazing - "a catch" if you will - and if a guy doesn't see me that way, then I don't want him in my life.  I don't want to date guys who think I'm "nice", I want to date guys who feel like I'm something really special. 

So, when someone rejects me, or I reject someone, the message isn't "you suck and you don't deserve love."  I think the message is, "I'm not the one - the chemistry isn't there.  Hold out for someone with whom you create sparks!"

I'm holding out for sparks.  A whole bonfire, actually.  No, the sun.  Supernovas.  Meteor showers.  Aurora borealis.  I want it all, and if I don't inspire anything close to a flame in someone, then they're doing a favor if they back off, because they're freeing me to find what I really want.  And when I "reject" a nice guy, I'm not dismissing his worth, I'm freeing him to find the girl of his dreams.  I know it's not me, because I'm just not that into him - and the girl of his dreams should definitely be into him.


Nobody likes to be rejected.  Not me, either.  But there really is something powerful and amazing in a rejection, as it's so much kinder than being strung along or accepting less than one deserves.

So, tonight, no Chocolate for me, and I've said goodbye to Vanilla.  Both of them stung a little - I'm not used to telling good guys that it won't work, I'm used to making things work with what I'm given - but ultimately, I'm pretty sure I'm on the right track.  It feels right....and that's its own kind of chemistry.

Boy Crazy

I am having an awful lot of fun being boy-crazy lately.  But my forty-something boy-craziness is very different that the boy-craziness of my youth - I think mostly because I have a sense of humor about it, and because none of my self worth is tied up in the results.

As I've mentioned here before, when I was younger I would agonize over men's responses to me.  If they didn't like me, I was sure that it was because I was flawed, unattractive, and unlovable: I thought I was unworthy of love, and that the fact that some guy wasn't into me was absolute proof of that.

Yuck.  And would you want to date someone who felt like that about him/herself?  I'm sure that the signals I sent out were needy....and worse.  I talked the talk, but I didn't walk the walk.  I chased after guys that I didn't even really like that much, because it made me feel good about myself (or at least less bad about myself) if they changed their minds and decided that they liked me after all.  Needless to say, that didn't create rock-solid foundations for relationships!

Worst of all, I had no idea I was doing it that way, and I would have argued  all day that I wasn't behaving that way.  I would have been wrong.

So, fast forward twenty years, and things are different.  I've had some pretty serious tests in my life, cancer first among them, and I know a thing or two about myself.  I wouldn't recommend cancer as a way of finding yourself, but I suppose that it's better than not finding yourself at all.  Cancer brought out all kinds of things in me, and I started to hear - round the clock, even when I wasn't doing anything to prove anything to anyone, merely trying to fight for my life and be there for my daughter - that I was an inspiration.  That I was strong and courageous.  That I was amazing.

After a while, I think I finally started to see it in myself.  It was that belief in myself that ultimately allowed me to walk away from my broken marriage, even though I didn't have a job, even though I wasn't sure how I was going to make it work.  I believed in my own abilities, and knew that I had what it took, even if I wasn't sure what "it" meant.

And it turns out all those things I learned about myself along the way are directly impacting my dating life now, and it's almost comical how the little light goes on in my head - self-knowledge - and how the world seems to notice it right away, and how things happen as a result of that.

I walked out of my divorce feeling twenty pounds lighter.  (I jokingly say 250 pounds lighter, corresponding to my ex's (over)weight....)  I didn't change anything on my OkCupid profile, but suddenly, corresponding to my feelings about dating, there are men all over the place.  Yesterday I got ten - TEN! - OkCupid messages, and several of them were actually from interesting guys.  (Attractive men who didn't leak all kinds of baggage across their profiles; literate men who appear to have interesting, together lives.)  I've been on the site for about a month, and never received that many messages in a day (excepting perhaps the first week when I was fresh meat on the website, and all the sharks smelled the blood in the water), and not from such high quality men.

Last week's coffee date didn't go anywhere, and I'm okay with that.  He was cool, as in not warm, in his interactions - didn't smile enough, didn't have any sparks, even though he was a really good man.  We exchanged a couple boring messages afterwards, and we both let it drop.  He sent the last message, and I didn't reply, because I don't need to chase anymore to prove anything to myself about my worth.

But my pheremones must be getting through the internet, because there really are plenty more fish in the sea.  I have a date tomorrow, and the possibility of two more on the horizon.  I don't hold much stock in them, and I have no expectations other than this: I'll learn how to talk to men.  I'll keep my dignity.  I'll try a new coffee shop or restaurant.  I'll learn a bit more about how people tick.  I'll have a good time, no matter how it goes.  If it clicks?  Wow - that would be cool!  But if it doesn't?  That's a-okay.

If I never meet Mr. Right, I'm still going to have a fantastic life.  And if I meet him?  Oh, that would be bliss.

So, right now I'm a little boy crazy.  I'm having so much fun checking OkCupid to see who has been checking me out, and reading their profiles, and choosing which messages I wish to reply to.  I'm a bit giggly about my dates, because it's just plain weird to be dating at this age, but my giggles are out of both the absurdity and the fun of it.

One day, I might meet someone worth a second date.

One day, I might even have sex again!

So pardon me if I'm just a wee bit boy crazy right now.

For the greater good

First: a tribute.  Today is Katherine's tenth birthday, and I just want to say for the millionth time how incredibly much I love, admire, respect, and cherish my daughter.  She is the best thing that ever happened to me, and I have no idea how I got so lucky as to have her.  She is kind and compassionate, thoughtful, loyal, and has more integrity in her pinky finger than most people have in their whole bodies.  She is a hard worker, and she is incredibly persistent.  She is the best friend in the world, and the close relationships she holds are beautiful to witness: there is no backbiting, no gossip, only a pure type of love that is rare and beautiful.  Once she has a friend, she keeps her forever - she's retained the friendships she's had since infancy, and they are more precious than ever.

She's incredible, and I am blessed.

Which is how I am getting to my second point.

My ex is not someone I trust.  When he talks to me, he is often rude and almost always abrasive.  He's quick to fly off the handle, even when I am doing backflips to be accomodating, and he doesn't care about throwing little temper tantrums in front of our daughter.  He still lies to me - small lies, sometimes meaningless, but I can't count on him.  He says he never saw the email, even though he replied to it directly.  He says I never told him, even though it's on our mutual calendar.  He shows up late to pick up our daughter, and delivers her home early.

Just typing that makes my stomach hurt.

Today, for her birthday, Katherine requested a dinner at our home with both of her parents.  I didn't hesitate and immediately told her that I'd love to do that for her.  (Okay, first I said, "Are you sure you don't want to pick a restaurant?" but she was clear, she wanted both of her parents in her home.)

And today I am feeling anxious and sad about it.

My ex is going to be in my house, and who knows what snarky rude things he will say to me.  Our daughter has requested dungeness crab - her favorite, and a veryveryvery rare treat - for dinner, and I can imagine him making snide remarks about the price, or complaining that I serve garlic butter instead of lemon butter (or vice versa), or taking all of the claws for himself.  I can imagine him helping himself to things from my kitchen, not just what I serve.  I can imagine that when I sit down he'll start requesting things from me.  I can imagine that when I say something intended to be pleasant, he will say something hurtful in response.  If I ask him how he is, he might say it's none of my business, and if I don't ask him, he might tell me that clearly I don't care about him.

It's a vicious cycle, and one I'm all too familiar with.

What's worse, is that it brings back so many bad memories dating to when I was pregnant and then the day of Katherine's birth.  I won't dwell on it, only say that he hurt me badly then.

Today he posted pictures of himself and our daugther, taken over the years, on his Facebook page in honor of her birthday.  The pictures are all very sweet, and I believe that all of them were taken by me.  They all show a smiling father and his beautiful child.  But people who see them don't know the back stories like I do: the one in a Santa hat that he appears to be so proud of was the day we got our Christmas tree and he didn't want to go and he thought the hats were stupid and I felt like I was two inches tall and I just wanted a happy Christmas experience and he kept snapping at me; the one on the hiking trail where he sulked and refused to walk with us and actually disappeared for two hours when we were by the lake and Katherine kept saying "where'd Daddy go?" and I didn't know and I was starting to wonder what I would do if I got back to the trailhead and the car was gone; the one at the Fourth of July Parade when it was too crowded and he was mad at me and he once again left and we didn't know where he was and he wouldn't pick up his cell phone and then when he did locate us he yelled at me and I cried when Katherine was out of earshot.  But nobody seeing the pictures would know that.  And they wouldn't know that I took those shots. 

A few people have told me flat out that having him come over is too much, that I'm crazy to let him into my life like that.  Well, on my own account, they're right.  There is a part of me that would like to tear nto him and give him a piece of my mind; there is a part of me that is crafting cutting retorts to his rudeness.

But I won't do it.  I will invite him in, I will smile, and I will serve him wine and crab and Caesar salad and garlic bread that I have purchased and prepared.  When he complains that it's taking too long and he's hungry (remember, he doesn't work, but I will be the one rushing home to turn these ingredients into a special meal after work) I will smile and say "would you like cheese and crackers while you wait?"  If he snaps at me, I will redirect my attention to Katherine and say "Tell me about your day at school, honey.  Did the class sing to you before the cupcakes?"  (The ones I made last night, frosted at 6 this morning, and then delivered before work to her school.)  I will dish up the crab on each plate from the kitchen, so that he will not take three of the four claws for himself.   (Katherine will get two because it's her birthday, he and I will each get one.)  If he gets really bad, I will look at him directly and say, "It's our daughter's birthday, and I refuse to ruin it, and hope you will make it good for her as well."

This turning the other cheek thing isn't for sissies.  It's at the exact moment that I want to slap the rudeness off his face that I need to lower my voice, and turn to view my daughter with loving eyes.  I am doing this for her, and for my own integrity, and not for Bryan.  He's enough of a fool that he won't even realize how hard I'm working at not taking his bait, and he will not be appreciative of my kindness to him.

Today, he comes, and as a gift to my daughter, I will feed him, serve him, clean up after him, welcome him, be kind to him, make smalltalk with him.  And I will do it as graciously as I am capable of doing so that it doesn't look forced, and so that I eliminate as much tension as possible.

Because that girl of mine?  She deserves it.

But I thank God that after dinner he will leave and go to his own residence, leaving me at peace in mine.

Happy Birthday, Katherine.  I hope that I honor you today, sweetheart.  May you never read these words, never know the extent of my anger, frustration, and disappointment in your dad.  And should you ever learn, may you know that my love for you is a thousand times bigger than my feelings for him, and you are worth it, every last bit of it.

Crazy, Brave, or Something Else?

This weekend I threw a sleepover party for Katherine's tenth birthday.  Ten friends plus my daughter spent an afternoon, night, and morning together.

My friends' response to this was nearly unanimous: they said either "you're crazy!" or "you're so brave!"

I may be crazy, and I may be brave, but this is proof of neither.

I absolutely love that my daughter has such rich, deep, meaningful friendships - she's known many of these girls for her whole life.

I absolutely love that these families trust me with their children.

I absolutely love that my home can (barely!) fit such an abundance.

I love that in a world of consumerist craziness, my daughter's idea of heaven consists of a row of sleeping bags sandwiched together in a basement, lots of giggling, and home made birthday cake.

I love that I am not sick, and so I can find the energy to host such a gathering.

I love that I have my own relationships with each of these children, and so they listen to me.  Some came up and asked to help make breakfast (chocolate chip buttermilk pancakes, sausage - vegetarian and meaty, fruit, juice) and they measured and chatted and sang along with Brandi Carlisle with me as we cooked.

I love that my house is decorated with streamers, balloons, and happy birthday banners (one of which has been used every year since Katherine was one - it used to say "Happy First Birthday" and I cut out the word "First" to keep using it).

I love that I was able to say "Yes" when my daughter asked for a sleepover party.

I love that I am fully capable of doing it on my own. (Never mind that I'm on my fourth cup of coffee just to survive.)

I love that when the parents showed up for pick up and drop off, they said things like "My daughter has such a great time here" and "your home is so warm and inviting."  My house is not among the nicest in my friend group (it may be in the bottom half), but somehow....we always end up here.  I love that.

I love that one of my dearest friends, whom I have known since college, who does not have children of her own, came to help me with dinner and companionship, helping me to dish up tortellini and make caesar salad, because she has a special relationship with Katherine, too.  Another friend popped in after her date with her husband, and we shared some wine and conversation and laughter.  Wonderful.

I love that I felt strong enough to invite Bryan to come by to celebrate with our daughter.  I love that he said that he had no desire at all to attend....and that his refusal reminded me that it is actually easier to do these types of things without his growling presence.  (If he'd have come, I would have been pleased at the support that he was offering our girl.  His loss.)

I love that my life looks like these simple pleasures, that I have not lost sight of it in the midst of the pain of cancer or divorce.  I love that I know how to suck the marrow from life.  I love that I know how to enjoy a crazy sleepover, that my home was filled with laughing children, that my daughter has that kind of joy in her life.

It's not about bravery or insanity, it's about joy.  And I love that best of all.

Cute, smart, and together

Wahooo!

This morning I had a coffee date with someone I started talking to online about a week ago.  My first really-and-truly-I'm-divorced-now date, so I believe it sets the tone, and....

It was great!

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not hearing wedding bells and I don't plan to drop my panties.  (Oh Lordy, what have I done?  Now if someone Googles "drop my panties" this site will come up.  Well, they'll be bored and they'll leave soon enough.)  But after a few real dud dates - guys that could not hold my interest for two minutes - it's absolutely lovely to meet someone and think, "Okay, this is the kind of person I can attract."

He's smart.  Kind.  Politically similar, similar world views.  An active dad.  Fit and healthy appearance.  Attractive.  Has his life together.

I'm going to wait to see if he contacts me again.  We didn't have sparks, as we stuck to "getting to know you" conversation, and at 8:30 in the morning over lattes for an hour it would be hard to know what might come next.  I know that I held my own, that it wasn't awkward, that I liked the way I presented myself.  I'm thrilled to think that maybe now I'm on the right track.

If he calls, he calls.  If he doesn't, he doesn't.  I will be okay either way, and this is not a make-it-or-break-it.

But if he calls, I'd go out with him again....for dinner!
(And, because the Universe likes me today, I also was contacted by another interesting looking gentleman.  Things are looking....fun!)

A time to be born

Spring is here!

Despite the frost and fog, I have reached a spring in my heart, and it is my time to laugh, to be born, to mend, to seek.

Ahhhh.

As of 2pm yesterday, I am officially divorced.  My girlfriends and I waited for my turn, and we actually got shushed in the courtroom, which was just perfect, because it made me feel like a giggly fourth-grader.

The divorce itself was very anticlimactic - a small handful of questions, perhaps two minutes in duration total, and the deed was done.  It took longer waiting in line to get certified copies than it did to actually get the divorce completed.

I stepped outside the courtroom, and felt free.  I celebrated with those beloved girlfriends, and we toasted to Bryan's future (may it be filled with all good things) as well as my own.  I bought a bottle of champagne to share, we ate French food, we admired the views, we laughed.  Two of us even went to see live music afterwards, and it was fantastic.

I have reclaimed my name (although the name changes at every institution I work with will take ages, at least Facebook and Gmail know my real name now).

It's behind me.  And I am well.  I'm on the first page of the next chapter of my life, and thrilled to be here.  How will the story unfold?

Well, I know how it unfolds this week.  Busy at work, lots of projects going on.  And this weekend is Katherine's sleepover birthday party at our home.  Perfect: I can focus on my beloved daughter and her silly friends, and the house will be filled with laughter.  No ghosts of sadness will be able to linger, because there will be too much joy for them to stick around.

Oh, and I have a coffee date tomorrow before work!  No expectations, just coffee.

My heart is light.  Wishing you, whereever you are, no matter how lonely, that you find your place.  Today, I am in mine, and it is a gift.

*****

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

~ Mary Oliver ~

A time to weep

To everything there is a season, and today it is my time to mourn, weep, and rend.

We're finalizing all of the paperwork, making sure we haven't missed anything, and Bryan has been so sharp and rude to me (and if I'm honest, I'm also feeling particularly vulnerable and susceptible so his usual barbs hurt more than usual) that this morning before work I shed a few tears.  I'm trying so hard to be gracious and compassionate, and it looks sometimes as if he's not trying at all, and it still hurts.

After all this time, it still hurts.

The child in me wants to say, "But aren't I being good?" even though the woman in me knows that such pleading will get me nowhere, and that my own sense of self is the only reassurance I should be seeking.

Today, I am allowing myself to feel the sting.  Today, it hurts.  Yes, I'm crafting a brilliant life, filled with love, joy, peace, integrity, friendship, nature, health....but today, I'm facing down the failure of my marriage.

Today is the last full day of my married life.  Today is the last full day that I carry this name.

Today is not a day to remind myself that the marriage wasn't a failure if it brought forth my glorious daughter.  Today is a day to mourn.

*****

Tomorrow I'm going running (yes, I've kept it up since November, and I'm getting stronger daily - I work out a minimum of four times per week now, often six times per week, once with a trainer and the rest mixing up running, yoga, small weights, etc.) and I intend to go faster, farther, harder than I've gone yet.  Usually I run and chat with my friends, but tomorrow I'm going to run ahead of them with my headset on and pound the pavement and listen to loud girl-power anthems.  I'll finish the run with "I will survive," an anthem of break-ups and cancer survivorship.

Then, I'm putting on my new outfit and getting it done.  I bought some fabulous, fabulous shoes and a knockout dress - one that makes me look like my body is nearly flawless (!) with curves in all the right places, but is still ladylike.  I will work a few hours in the morning, and then walk a few blocks to the courthouse to meet my friends, and complete the deal.  Tomorrow, I intend to be strong, powerful, feminine, and optimistic.  Tomorrow, I will be born again.

But today, I mourn.

*****

To everything there is a season,
a time for every purpose under the sun.
A time to be born and a time to die;
a time to plant and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
a time to kill and a time to heal ...
a time to weep and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn and a time to dance ...
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to lose and a time to seek;
a time to rend and a time to sew;
a time to keep silent and a time to speak;
a time to love and a time to hate;
a time for war and a time for peace.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

 

Thank you for your kind thoughts, prayers, light, and support.  It's a hard day.  I didn't want it to be hard any more, but there is no way around it.  Can't go over it, can't go under it, have to go through it.  Deep breaths...

One Week

In one week at this time, I'll be walking to the courthouse to meet my girlfriends, those ones closest to my heart that have stood by me through all this, good and bad.  We will do whatever it is that one does to get a divorce on the actual day - I suspect, sit on benches, feel uncomfortable, and wonder how long it is going to take.  From everything I've heard, it's mostly a formality (albeit a very important one).

I am worried about the pain of being there, and I expect to cry a smidge.  But just a smidge.  I am working so incredibly hard at creating this brand new life for myself, and I'm not running away from my marriage, I'm running into the arms of my life, embracing it, spinning it around.  I'm going to squeeze that life of mine so hard it will gasp, and then we might just cry again.  We're alive! 

And then those beloved girlfriends of mine and I are going to keep going, wipe those sad and happy tears and help me fix my mascara, and then we're going out to a chic French restaurant.  French, of course, because I'm going to France this year (my first overseas in over a decade!), and I'm celebrating that.  Chic, because my life was very un-chic before, and I'm working on it now.  Progress!  High heels, pencil skirt, red lipstick.  But also tailored blazer and pearls, because we don't want anybody to get the wrong idea.  ;-)

And I've lined up two possible dates, with different men.  I am not sure yet if I'm going to go, but it's nice to have offers from decent guys.

And I've got Valentine's plans.  Dinner in, with the red tablecloth and white linen napkins, the china and silver and crystal.  Maybe lobster tails.  And incredible dates - oh, not those two men, but my daughter and a dear friend of hers.  The friend's parents will go on a "real" date, and I'll entertain those beautiful girls, and it will be a bit campy too, with paper heart doilies and maybe Frank Sinatra.  (Or One Direction and the Austin and Ally soundtrack, if my girls have anything to say about it.)

One week 'til D-day.  I can't wait to get it behind me.  I hope nothing happens to derail it.  I hope that I don't get waves of memories - on the beach in bare feet and a big white dress on our wedding day, moving into "our" house that is now "my" house, watching him hold our daughter for the first time - that make me break down and sob.  It could have been so very, very, very different, and now we'll never know.

But I can't stay there, mustn't dwell.  I've got Life waiting - and we've got a date.

Resilience

Katherine is the most amazing person that I know.

Last night at dinner we were talking about our goals for the next year.  We discussed our upcoming trip to Paris.  She told me she wants to make things to sell on the internet to raise money for animal shelters.  (Anyone have a clue how to set up Ecommerce for a ten year old?!)

And I offhandedly said, "Well, since last year wasn't our favorite, this year will be better."  And then, fearful of her response but needing to know anyway, I said, "Was the day we told you that we were getting divorced the worst day of your life?"

"Hmmmmm," she replied, "That was bad.  But the worst day was every day in the second grade in the afternoons when I had to sit at that table with those horrible boys who kept distracting me and making it so hard to get my work done!"

I was skeptical.  She's emotionally intuitive - perhaps she was protecting me.  "Are you sure?" I asked, giving her that "Mama knows!" look.  She laughed at me.  "Oh, Mom, you worry too much.  I'm fine.  Why do you always worry about me?  And those boys were SO ANNOYING!  That was much worse."  And then she changed the subject - back to how to help the animals.

When I think about all of the things that have happened to me in my life, good and bad, this incredible child is at the top of my list.  I have certainly tried to model resilience to her, but this, this is beyond my hopes.  My heart is bursting with pride, amazement, and such dreams for our future together.

I really believe that she's okay.  Her dad has only been moved out for six months, and she is thriving.  She is joyful.  The is hopeful.  She's firmly grounded in the present, and she's got plans for the future.

Ahhh, that makes my heart sing.

*****

On another note, interesting community-college-professor-dad and I are off the table.  We are on opposite kid schedules, and that isn't going to change.  Dating in my forties sure IS different than dating in my twenties!  What's more, I feel like I'm bored to death with online dating already, and I haven't even gotten started.  Ah well.  I like that it's low stakes for me, so no matter what happens on the dating front, all is well.  :-)

Divorce: A How To Guide

A friend of mine is in a bad marriage that makes her feel small, powerless, and angry.  She wants to get divorced, but she feels stuck: she's been a stay at home mom for years, there are elementary aged children involved, and she doesn't know how to get out.  This post is dedicated to her. 

*****

I believe that I am having a very successful divorce.  My definition of success is this: even though my ex has not changed (he is not suddenly reliable, reasonable, etc.) in the divorce process, our interactions are more positive now than they were when we were divorced.  Our daughter is thriving.  I've pulled myself up by my bootstraps and I'm managing my finances.  Most of all - I'm happy.  So, well aware that it was difficult to get here, I'm sharing my lessons, the ones I learned the hard way, in the hope that they will help others to ease their journeys.

So - here's how I did it.  If you're stuck, like my friend, here's what I recommend you do.  It worked for me!

1.  Learn everything you can about creating a sane divorce.  My favorite book on the subject is The Good Divorce by Constance Ahrons.  Dr. Ahrons is clear that divorce is not good, but some divorces are better than others.  Her book is geared towards parents who wish to offer their children the best in a bad situation, and I think she is a calm voice in the often antagonistic world of divorce literature.  Want to learn how not to divorce?  Go to The Huffington Post's divorce section and read the comments for just about any post.  It appears that 99% of the people there are miserable about the state of humanity in general.  Listen to what they say, and decide to do the opposite of that!

2.  Get very, very, very clear about what you want.  I decided that I wanted to live in integrity and joy, and that every decision I made had to be based in those two things.  Yelling at my ex, for example, is neither full of integrity or joy.  Biting my tongue for the sake of our daughter does have integrity, and the resultant feelings it evokes in her give me joy.  You think this is easy?  Just try it - it's really, really hard.  But the rewards are worth it, and it does get easier over time.

3.  Learn how to communicate clearly, with healthy boundaries, and no attachment to your ex's response.  This means keeping your voice calm, stating your needs very clearly ("When you do not show up on time to pick up our daughter, it hurts her feelings and also inconveniences me.  Will you agree to be on time in the future?")  Do not lecture (say one sentence clearly, then stop) and do not worry about their angry response (I often hear "You never asked me!" or "Nobody told me that!" when he flakes out; this, despite the fact that I have proof in email - with his responses - that this is not the case.).  State your need clearly, then walk away.  Know that their response is about their relationship to the world - they yell because they hurt or are angry in general, not because you're a bad person.  Refuse to get sucked in to the drama.  Refuse to play the game with passive aggressive responses, withholding information, your own surly tone.  Be clear and reasonable.

4.  Live in total integrity.  Model to your ex how it is done.  Be gracious.  Make sure you reach out and inform him/her about details of your child's life.  Smile and exchange pleasantries.  Say nice things about your ex to the child/ren.  Show up on time, communicate clearly, do what you say you are going to do.  Give or receive appropriate child support, but do not ask for more than is reasonable, and don't forget to pay.  Absolutely refuse to be petty.  Do this for yourself if you can't do it for your ex.

5.  Teach your friends and family how to manage your divorce.  Refuse to ex-bash in public.  Tell your friends and family that they are welcome to keep your ex in their lives, and assure them that as the mother/father of your child, you do not want them to become outcasts.  Reach out to your inlaws and tell them that you are sorry it has come to this and that you will honor their son/daughter/brother/sister despite the marriage ending, and that you want them to be a part of your child's life.  Tell them that you will be flexible about family birthdays and such because you want your child/ren to keep in close contact with extended family.  CC: your ex on emails to teachers and doctors, and say directly "We're divorced but we like to work together for the sake of our child, so please include both of us" and smile as you say it.  Don't put others in an awkward position, and show them you can handle it.  It's good for you, trust me.

6.  Help your child/ren do nice things for your ex.  Buy birthday, Christmas, Mother's Day/Father's Day gifts or cards, or help them make gifts.  Do this with a smile on your face, and plan it in advance.  Be excited for your child/ren when they do something cool with your ex.  "Dad took you to your favorite restaurant?  Oh, that's great!  Did you get a milkshake, too?  Lucky girl, I know how much you enjoy that.  That was sure nice of Daddy."  Do this for your children because they deserve to show love for BOTH of their parents, but also do it for yourself, because it feels so good to see the relief and openness on your child's face when they realize it's still safe to love both of you.

7.  When your ex totally loses his/her cool with you, say, "I can see you are very upset.  When you want to talk calmly with me, I will welcome that conversation," and walk away.

8.  Get out there and live your joy.  You are getting divorced because your marriage made you miserable, so REFUSE TO BE MISERABLE.  This is your life, so go do something about it.  Get good sleep - it's incredible what a difference it makes.  Eat healthy food.  Get outdoors.  Move your body.  Reach out to friends.  Do some volunteer work (nothing will humble you more, and nothing will fill your soul more - this is particularly true when you feel like your own finances are in shambles and your own life is impossible - give to a cause you believe in with your time, include the kids if you like, and you will be amazed at how much you get from the experience and how it will pull you out of your icky mindset).  Go see some live music (or invite friends to create some together).  Make art, whether it's paper snowflakes or a grand sculpture.  Find a spiritual community (church, synagogue, meditation center, etc.) and get involved.  Join a sports team, a sewing circle, a bookclub, or whatever floats your boat that makes you feel alive and connected.  Notice something about my list?  Nothing on it costs money.  Stop using excuses as to why you aren't doing those things and how your life is too busy.  All of our lives are too busy, but we choose what to be busy with.  If you can't do the things that bring you joy, then ending your marriage isn't going to help you at all, it's just going to trade one set of misery for another.

9.  Take care of your physical self.  Wear the cute jeans, the t-shirt that fits well.  Get some exercise to get your blood moving.  Get a new haircut, or a pedicure, or some sexy underwear.  Step up the way you dress a bit (I've grown fond of wearing heels for the way they make me feel feminine).  A little attention - a door held open, a smile - from the opposite sex goes a long way on a bad day.  A little bounce in your step from knowing you look your best will do wonders for your mood.  Put in a bit of effort.  On days when you just can't gather the energy to put in the effort, do it anyway, because those are the days it helps the most.  Do not do this for anyone except yourself - you're not doing it to please others or to lure a new mate, you're doing it to feel good.  And you have to feel good to keep the courage up to get through this.

10.  Decide how much you are willing to give up to live your authentic life.  I have a friend who told me that the day she realized that if she had to move into her parents' basement with her kids it was still worth it was the day she realized she needed a divorce.  She is still happily living in her nice home with her kids (and she's divorced now), and never had to move, but her willingness to give it all up and to take a risk ultimately allowed her to move towards her best life.  What do you want more: the Nordstrom card or your independence?  The nice house, or a healthy life?  What's more important to you: modeling healthy behavior, or signing up your kids for ski school?  Make your decision and stick to it.  It will hurt.  But it will also pay off.

11.  Take a leap of faith.  If you know that your marriage is over, that you are utterly done, then end it.  I told my ex that our marriage was over when I hadn't worked a full time job in nine years, and we were broke, and I had no idea how to move my life forward.  I suggested living in the house (upstairs/downstairs) for 14 months, and we put a date on the calendar for him to move out.  We started telling people we were divorcing, and that I was going back to work.  It took me 10 months to figure out stable work (not without some ups and downs), and then the last 4 months I saved 100% of the income from my new job; he got half of it to move out, I got half of it to get my end of things together (buying some things to replace what he took, etc.).  I had some heart attacks along the way, I was so scared that I would never figure out my life, and I certainly imagined living in my parents' basement, or working in a minimum wage job (humbling because of my education and work history)...but it didn't come to that.  And having a date on the calendar sure lit a fire under me...I knew I *had* to figure it out, and so I did.  A little dose of fear is a big motivator!

12.  Remember that it gets better.  If your marriage is ugly, as mine was, then you're already living in a form of hell.  To get out, you have to trade one version of hell (the bad marriage) for another (the fear and uncertainty of change, financially and for the children)....but the difference is, this new version is temporary, and offers hope on the other side.  Divorce IS hard.  Sometimes it feels impossibly hard, actually.  There were days, weeks, and months when I thought I'd never make it, and from what I hear, that's pretty normal.  But the truth is that people make it all the time, that divorce is NOT the end of the world, and that you can come out on the other side filled with joie de vivre and hope, and that your children can thrive.  If you think that the change is hard, you're right....but staying in an unhealthy relationship is harder, if you ask me.

My finances are okay.  My daughter is well.  I love my job.  I have hope for the future, and the present is pretty damned good too.  If I was married, I don't think I'd be okay at all.  So, you tell me, which is harder?  I am so glad that I took that leap of faith, that I let my hope be bigger than my fear, and made the changes necessary to my happiness.  It's not perfect, there is still much work to be done....but I'm well on my way.

*****
If you are struggling with the decision of how to leave, what questions do you have?

If you are divorced, what advice do you have to give to someone who is fearful of leaving even though the marriage is truly over?

I'd love to hear your responses.  Thanks for reading!

Reflection

This morning I woke up and it was gloriously sunny outside.

I love a good metaphor.

Like so many others, the new year is a time of reflection for me.  And this year, more than any in recent history, I have so much to reflect upon!  What a wild ride it has been.

This time last year, there was a grumpy man in my basement, I was unemployed and uncertain as to my next steps, and my daughter was in counseling for divorce-related anxiety that looked a lot like OCD.  My house was breaking down, and we were flat broke.

I couldn't see a way out.

This year, I am wrapped in hope.  It is shocking how much difference a year can make, one way or the other, and I am so hopeful that my current path will continue.  Katherine is thriving, giggling, excelling at school, and released from counseling because she's doing so well (and that OCD handwashing etc. is a distant memory).  My job is wildly successful, and paying my bills with enough left over to work on my dreams.  My basement is used for movie nights, guests, and yoga....because nobody lives in it.  My divorce is final in about two weeks.  I have a trip to Paris on the horizon, a girls' weekend planned.  My house is almost put back together (I suppose there will always be a few projects in an old house, but the big ones have been taken care of).

I dream of a love for the ages in 2013.  I was born a romantic, and I really believe in that kind of love, and in my ability to find it.  I'm a regular on OkCupid right now, and though most of the messages that I get are more amusing than anything else (no, you may not lick my feet; please tell me that your wife-beater shirt in your photo is ironic) there are some genuine guys mixed in with the crazies.

But here is the thing, and it's HUGE:  I don't need anything to change in order to be happy.

I do not need to lose weight. 
I do not need a lover.
I do not need a house on the water.
I do not need to win the lottery.
I don't need to be published.

If I found myself five pounds slimmer, in bed with my hot lover, in our waterfront home, with a million in the bank and a check from my publisher on the way, I'd be ecstatic.  Of course I would.  But the truth is that if none of that happens, ever, I'd still have a fantastic life.

The body of water that I run by every other day or so is magnificent.  My little job is satisfying.  I'm writing a bit here and there.  My beautiful, compassionate, amazing daughter is happy and healthy.  We do little adventures all the time.  At the drop of a hat, I can fill my house with friends and laughter.  I'm a member at an art museum and a science center, and I have so much fun going there.  The mountains around here call to me to visit them....and I do.  I'm going to Paris - how amazing is that?!  And my humble home is warm and welcoming and comfortable - it may not land in Architectural Digest, but there is something about it that is truly lovely.

Last night I went to a friend's home for a party.  I talked to new friends and old, I had a glass of wine, I laughed.  I wore high heels and a sparkly top.  And I left early to come home to bed, because all this early morning stuff makes me tired at night.  And I am so proud of that - because I didn't need to prove anything to anyone,  listened to my body, and I had a great time.  I left the party in full swing, but I left with a full heart.

2013 is my year. I can hardly wait to live it out.  I do hope for big, amazing, incredible love, with fluttering butterflies and tingles and soft sweet kisses on my neck that make me weak.  I am hopeful.  But I will not forget that even without butterflies and weak knees, I am blissfully happy, happier than I have been in at least a decade. I will not squander that happiness by trading it for longing for something out of my control; I will revel in it, accept it as the gift it is.

Happy new year to you.  If you are in the painful throes of divorce, if you are hurting and wondering how on earth you can claim your life in the midst of chaos, please know that if I did it, you can, too.  Keep swimming!

xoxo

Thriving and Exhaustion

Okay, dear readers, I need some help.

With some crises firmly behind me, I'm working hard at thriving.  I'm trying to live my best life, fully aware as I am that I only get one life, and that there is only the present.  "Tomorrow" is not time to be happy, or to get things done.  Today is the only day.

So, with that in mind, I'm exercising again, hoping that it will give me an extra boost.  I'm getting up at 4:45am most days in order to exercise from 5am-6am, because there really isn't any other time of the day except bedtime, and by then my motivation is shot AND I really want to wind down, not amp up.  From 6am to 9pm, my minutes are booked with mothering and working and basics like making dinner, so 5am it is.

I feel great.  And I feel awful.  It hurts to laugh, which makes me laugh.  I'm pleased that I've made the commitment, and that I'm following through.  I roped two girlfriends into joining me - which wasn't difficult, because I said "here's what I plan to do" and they asked if they could join me - so in the morning when I'm lying in bed hearing the alarm, there's no chance that I will turn it off and go back to sleep, because they show up at my house 15 minutes after the alarm goes off.  We either work out in my basement or go for walks around the neighborhood; I don't feel comfortable driving to the gym because that would mean leaving Katherine alone in the house.  (For some reason I am okay with the walks around the neighborhood, because I'm closer and on foot...  Katherine knows when I'm doing a walk, and I always have my phone with me, and she's fine with it....plus she's sound asleep at the time.  She's nearly 10 and very responsible, but I still only feel kind-of okay with it.  In any case, I've decided that I must make peace with it, or never work out, and since I really want to be my best self, I must move this body of mine.)

But here is the dilemma.

My day is now booked from 4:45am to 9pm when Katherine has lights out and I fall into my own bed and am asleep the second my eyes close.  That would be fine, except that I don't know when I have time to do the deep living that I desire so much.  When can I write?  When can I sit on the sofa holding a hot mug of tea and staring at the trees outside?  When can I go to a play, a movie, or dinner with a friend?  When can I deliver a meal to a sick friend?  When can I put up the Christmas tree, go holiday shopping, or create holiday cards and send them?

I do not want to hear that I just have to let it all go.  It is all well and fine to work out, get homework done, eat decently, and pay the bills with my job, but I want, deserve, and NEED more.

How on earth will I date with a schedule like this?  My divorce is final in mid-January, and by spring I'd like to put myself out there, meet some interesting people, have some adult conversation (ranging from politics and art to the other kind of "adult" conversation, eventually), and take some steps towards meeting someone that I could spend the rest of my life with.  But how can I fit it in?  By 9pm I just want to sleep!

Last night I saw the movie "Lincoln" - a beautiful film that had me on the edge of my seat, holding my breath, hoping and hurting when it looked grim, even though I knew the outcome.  (Slavery is ended in American forever - hurrah!  Lincoln is shot, nooooo!)  It was something I'd been hearing people rave about, and I was excited to go, and to spend time with an old friend.  But the problem is that it's a two and a half hour film, so I didn't get home until close to midnight, and so today I feel like I have the flu and I just ran a marathon and my head doesn't work properly and I feel clumsy and out of sorts....and I'm at work today (and blogging here, but not feeling too guilty because I'm salaried and putting in extra time) because I'm trying to catch up since Katherine is at her dad's and this is our busy season.

It shouldn't make me feel like this to simply push myself to go to a movie and sit in a chair staring at a screen.  It really shouldn't.

So, dear readers, please tell me how you do it.  Encourage me, please.  Is this feeling because I'm just waiting for the exercise high to kick in, and it's still too new and my body hasn't adjusted?  I am not the only single working mom who exercises, and surely the others out there find time for girlfriends and dates and movies.... sometimes?  I have a ton of creative energy right now, ideas flying through my head left and right, but I honestly do not know when to sit down for long enough to sort them out.  Where is the "living" time, where I get to thrive and pursue dreams, and not just make it from day to day with relatively clean laundry?

Suggestions?  Ideas?  Encouragement?  I refuse to merely survive.  I just refuse it.  I intend to thrive, all the way.  I know if it was easy, everyone would be doing it, and the world would be a different place.  But I am convinced I can do better, that I can keep tweaking my life to give it the shape I dream of.

Advice?  Ideas?  I can't wait to hear from you!

Almost time

First of all, thank you so much to those of you who reached out to ask me to keep blogging.  I received emails as well as comments, and your words have moved me to tears.  I am so grateful for your support and kindness, and you are appreciated.  I am filled with gratitude.

I will keep blogging.  I will try to be thoughtful in my choices, to be respectful, but also to be truthful, and to share not only my PollyAnna optimism - which is very real, and a deep part of me - but also my fears and struggles, because it would be simplistic to think that I could get through this without them.

My goal is to live my life with integrity and compassion, towards myself as well as others.  I'd like the blog to reflect that, although it is a lofty goal, and one that I may not always reach.

To those of you who have encouraged me in that direction, again, I say thank you.  I am grateful.

*****

This is the week, and I am days away from Bryan moving out.

He has not packed one box.

I have Thursday and Friday off work, and I am prepared to run around getting boxes and packing materials, and filling in my own gaps for the house.  I will be in charge of Katherine, too, and I am fearful that I won't know how to give her what she needs, because I am feeling very self absorbed right now, and very quiet.  My brain is awash in fear - no, not quite fear, more like anxiety.  There is so much going on, and I am fighting for my Zen house, not this house of chaos, but I feel low energy, and anxious, and I really do wish I could go to bed and wake up when it's all done.

I will rent a carpet cleaner for Sunday, and I will spend at least two hours cleaning his bathroom on Sunday.  Yuck.  No wonder I want to fast forward until next week!  Plus, moving is stressful under any circumstances, but this move is so disorganized, and he hasn't asked anyone to help, and I'll be his main person helping, which will likely lead to frayed tempers on both sides.  I have promised myself to be perky and focused on Katherine and to do whatever it takes to get the job done....but I'm so scared of the whole business, because it's so much work and so stressful.

I've been focused on "stuff" this week in a way that surprises me, but today I think I realized that I'm focusing on stuff, not emotions, because it's tangible.  I can't control how this move goes, and if it's a disaster, then it's his disaster, and he is responsible, because I am not in charge of him, the move, or how he handles things.  So, I've transferred some nervous energy into silly things - will there be enough bedside lamps to go around?  What will I use as a bedside table in the guest room?  I need to get Katherine a bookcase!  I must have a toaster!  (Not of the $10,000 variety, either.)  Now, I probably make toast once a month, so obsessing about a toaster is....odd, to say the least.  But somehow I've found myself worrying about little things like that, knowing full well that if Katherine has stacks of books in her room for a few weeks she wouldn't care, and that if we can't make toast it doesn't matter, but I've been focusing on things like that anyway.

Today is Tuesday.  He's supposed to move on Saturday.  It's going to be a long week.

And my body is responding by my face breaking out (seriously?!) and my arm lymphadema flaring up; my arm isn't swollen but it's throbbing, which is the precurser to swelling for me.  Damnit.

I don't have anything wise to say today.  Today is not a day for deep introspection, or for lessons, or for humor, or for wisdom.  Today, and this week, I just want to do what must be done to get through to the other side.  And I want to get out of my own head enough to be a great mom, not merely a sufficient one (which is how I feel right now).

Thank you for your continued thoughts and prayers.

Anonymity, Online dating, Moving, Money

I have a lot on my mind this week.  The worries make me dizzy.

A friend let slip about my blog, and about my Match.com profile, accidentally outing me to a dozen people.  Bryan doesn't know about either the blog or my desire to date (though he must wonder), and I'm filled with fear of him finding out about either the blog or dating, because I'm working so hard at maintaining civility with him, and I don't want to jeopardize that.

It's made me wonder: should I keep a blog?  Am I really doing this with integrity?  Is this a healthy place to vent where nobody gets hurt, or am I just airing my dirty laundry in public?  Do I offer a service to other women going through divorce by sharing my story, or is it self-indulgent?  How does one walk that line?  (Advice on this always appreciated.)

I do know that I love blogging here, that I enjoy the feedback immensely, that I feel so much less alone when others share their stories.  However, today I'm wondering what to do.

And I'm realizing that I threw away $50 that would have been better spent elsewhere (even on a new pair of shoes) than on Match.com, because I am just not ready to date.  I'm too tired to be vivacious right now, I have too many worries to think about flirting, and even if I was filled with energy and desire to flirt, I just don't have time.  Work is busy, my home needs a lot of work, I really want to connect with girlfriends in my down time, and Katherine needs and deserves most of my attention (and I want to give it to her).  I had a vision of walking down a boardwalk, sipping an iced coffee, wearing a pretty sundress, and flirting with a tall handsome man, passing away part of the summer....but I realize that instead, I want to walk down the boardwalk with Katherine and our dog, that I want to eat ice cream with her, and then swim in the ocean with her, and not care about anyone else in the world, or how witty I am, or making a good impression.  The time will come to date, but I'm not there.  (sigh)  I think I was trigger happy - I was lonely, and jealous of my happy friends, and wishing for quick fixes, but I know that will not get me where I want to go.  I need to work on myself right now, not dating.  (another sigh)

And yesterday I spent the day with my inlaws - all thirty or so of them, including brother and sister in laws, nieces, nephews, etc.  There was a family wedding, and they made sure I was included.  When it was time for a family photo, I panicked - what should I do?  I was prepared to bow out gracefully with a smile, but they ushered me over and told me that was nonsense, family was forever, come on over.  Bryan, Katherine and I stood together in the group, family.  This small moment blows my mind; it is what I want for Katherine, but so awkward and strange that I barely know what to think.

But these things are far overshadowed by the fact that this time next week Bryan should be moved out.  I will really be in the next phase of life, the one I've been preparing for all year.  Katherine will have two homes, and she will officially be the product of a broken home.  (An expression I loathe, for many reasons, but there it is.)  I will lose control over parts of her life that I currently have control over.

I will have two weekends a month by myself in this house, as well as Wednesday nights.  When I come home from something on one of those days, I will not be greeted by Katherine asking for a snack or a bedtime story while Bryan does something else by himself.  I will both love the downtime and hate that I am not there for her.  I will try to focus on taking care of myself, and giving her space to develop her relationship with her father, instead of the emptiness of her room, just down the hall from mine.

This week, either Bryan will pack himself, or I'll pack him, but either way, he's moving next weekend.

Please pray for us, keep good thoughts for us, hold us in the light, wish on shooting stars for us.  Hope that I can keep biting my tongue, that we can do this move smoothly, that Katherine can feel some enthusiasm for having two rooms, for a bit of independence walking back and forth, for the cell phone she's about to receive so that she can talk to whichever parent she is not with.  Please hope that Bryan will embrace his new location, finding some of his lost passion for living, that he can be the person he wishes to be.  Please hope that Katherine feels loved, and safe, and hopeful.  Please hope that I will behave with wisdom and integrity, and that I will find the strength and energy to craft the best possible life for Katherine and myself.  Please hope that many beautiful things come out of this change in our lives, and that the beauty that follows overshadows the grief at what is lost.

It all comes down to this.  Two homes, the end of an era, a change for all of us.  I am allowing myself to grieve, and still trying to focus on the good that lies ahead.

And money.  Oh, Dear God, the money.  I'm working on spreadsheets, playing the numbers, trying to figure out how to survive.....and I want to thrive, not only survive, and I have to figure that out.  It makes my head hurt. 

We have a meeting with a mediator tomorrow.

Thank you for your support this week, more than ever before, because I need it.

Calling all divorce bloggers!

I got a request in a blog comment for links to more divorce blogs.  Readers, if you're blogging, can you leave a link posted here?  If there is a divorce blog that you enjoy, could you post it here, too?  Include a few words about the focus of the blog, or about the blogger, if you're so inclined.

And....in case you missed my earlier post, I'll repost the info here.  I was contacted by a "major television network" to do a show about divorces where the exes live in the same house.  I can't do it - I need to stay anonymous here - but if you'd like to, they're looking for referrals.  I checked out the name of the person who contacted me, and it does look legit, but I make no promises.  I don't know much about television....except that I'm going to spend my fifteen minutes of fame elsewhere.

Happy Friday, everyone!  I look forward to seeing what blogs you post here.  (Even if you're a regular, consider posting your link here, and maybe you'll find some new readers.  Let's share the love!)