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.

A good divorce?

Two posts in one day, because it's Sunday morning and Katherine is at a sleepover and I woke up early, and so I have time to think, uninterrupted, which is a form of bliss.  Hello again!

I've mentioned Constance Ahrons' book The Good Divorce on this blog before.  If you are contemplating divorce, if you're in the middle of divorce, or if you're already divorced, and you have kids, this is the book to read.  The book outlines ways parents can approach divorce in the least-damaging ways possible for their children.  It's not a divorce law book, it's not a dating guidebook, it's not a justification for divorce book.  This is a book about parenting through divorce, and helping kids, and I think it's thoughtful and wise.



Notice that I said least-damaging, not blissful.  The book doesn't pretend that everything about divorce is wonderful and that the children will come out scott-free.  Instead, Ahrons paves the way for approaches to divorce that make the best out of a bad situation.  The general premise is that parental behavior impacts children as much or more than the divorce itself, and Ahrons suggests ways parents should behave in divorce.

I've taken the philosophies of this book to heart, and I'm doing my utmost to model my divorce on Ahrons' suggestions.  No matter what Bryan does, or how he behaves, I am in control of my own responses, and I am aware that anything that I can do to lower conflict between Bryan and myself will positively impact Katherine.


I bite my tongue a lot.
(Do not Google images of biting your tongue.  Gross.)

I think my tongue is covered in deep welts and scars, actually.  When Bryan told me on Friday night that he was too tired to help Katherine with her bedtime ritual and he was going to bed, I smiled at Katherine and said, "Get in your PJs so we can read stories," instead of snapping at him that he hardly spends any time with his girl and I've had a hard week too....although that is what I deeply wished to say.

And it's paying off.  I can not believe how much, but it's paying off!

Katherine is doing better through all of this than I even dreamed possible.  When she found out that her dad had commited to an apartment, I held my breath, fearful that this new stage of reality would freak her out, but instead, she seemed to experience actual joy.  I stared at her for a moment, I was so surprised by her response, but I think I get it now. 

Katherine is doing okay because Bryan and I have followed through on our commitment to make this work for her. 

The apartment is two blocks away, walking distance for a nine year old, and we've promised that she can go back and forth as she pleases, regardless of whose "day" it is.  When Bryan announced he'd booked it, I immediately said, "Oh, I'm so glad it's so close!" and smiled at Katherine.  Various people have said, "Ugh don't you want more space between you?" and while there is a part of me that feels that way, I mostly feel genuine enthusiasm for its proximity, knowing how nice it will be for her to just pop over to see her dad, or to come back here to get a favorite shirt or toy.

When Katherine was in a little play at church (ironically, about responding to change) last week, it was on "my" weekend, but I made sure that Bryan was invited, and we sat together to cheer her on.  My mom came, too, and afterwards she invited all of us, Bryan included, to lunch.  We all went, and we played nice.

Katherine doesn't say anything about it, but she sees it.  And she MUST notice how the tension is falling around here.  The tension is less than it was when Bryan and I were actively trying to stay married, as a matter of fact.

I'm packing all of Bryan's household stuff; he can't appear to get off his duff to do it, and I'd rather do it an hour here and an hour there than all in one mad rush (I really do dislike chaos).  And I've refrained from badgering him about it, and I've actually been pretty pleasant to him, despite the fact that it's a royal pain, and blatantly unfair (I have my own massive to-do list, and I'm doing his, too).  Katherine sees this, and I think she notices.

The funny thing is, Bryan is noticing too.  He has been much more pleasant to be around lately, and he has snapped at me much less than usual.  The tension is so much less, I actually told my mother "I think I like Bryan more now than I have in five years!"

Make no mistake: this is not a like of the "maybe we can make it work" variety.  Actually, the thing that makes it easiest for me to like Bryan right now is the idea that I no longer have to be married to him.  His problems are no longer my problems: I do not have to care about his mood swings, or his laziness, or the fact that he expects me to pick up his slack.  He has lost most of his ability to hurt me.  When there is some emotional distance, I simply don't care what he does, because it doesn't impact me nearly as much, and I'm not invested in making him be the kind of person I'd want to partner with.  We have little in common, but it doesn't matter any more.  We are not partners any more, and this frees me to like him in a casual way, from a distance.

What Katherine will see is that I will buy him a housewarming present.  She will see that I will help him move.  She will see that I bought him a nice Father's Day card.  She will see that I am not arguing about possessions - I would honestly rather give him every last stick of furniture than fight any more, and fortunately he's not choosing to fight over "stuff," either.  She will see us side by side, cheering for her.

I have coached my friends and family to accept him, too.  I have called them and told them that they have my explicit permission to socialize with him, to call him, to support him, because he's Katherine's dad, and excluding him would exclude her.  I have asked my family to include him in holiday events, because it's good for Katherine.

If we did not have a child, I would try to divorce on a handshake and walk away, possibly never seeing him ever again.  I've got anger and sadness in spades, and I'm not confused by that....I do not always feel Zen about our divorce.  But we do have a child, and that makes us a family, and family is forever.  Our marriage is over, but our family is not.

And it's working.  Katherine is doing better than I could have dreamed.  Her grades are higher than ever, and she's become an amazing reader.  Her counselor has said we can scale back on sessions because she's doing so well.  She's doing well with her friendships.  She's sleeping well - not too much or too little.  With the notable exception of the one giant fit (blogged earlier), her behavior is utterly normal.

My life is complicated, and I struggle daily.  Being a single working mother is exhausting, and the financial ramifications of this make my head hurt.  I have no idea what the future will bring, and while I'm filled with hope, I also have fear.

But maybe I will get my good divorce.  Divorce was not my dream, but as divorces go, maybe I can make this one as good as they come.

A hint of hope

It's just a hint.  Just a wee, itty bitty hint.  But I might be onto something.

Today I listened to How She Really Does It, a podcast program that brings in inspirational speakers, and today the (archived) podcast I listened to was with Danielle LaPorte.  Ms. LaPorte has a new book out, The Firestarter Sessions, that is one part inspiration mixed with twelve parts brilliance then sprinkled liberally with spirituality, but grounded in the everyday world with practical exercises.  It's heady stuff.

So today, in addition to reading Mark Nepo in the morning, I turned to Ms. LaPorte, and got some hints of what it is I might need to do, what it is that will save my soul from this fearful trembling that I'm struggling with.

Because I am still PollyAnna, but I'm the little girl PollyAnna, the one that puts on a brave face all day and then wets her pillow with silent tears at night.  Okay, maybe I'm not quite that melodramatic, but mine is not a "oh crap that driver cut me off in traffic" kind of malaise, but a soul sucking fear that maybe I can't keep my home (and the stability it represents to both Katherine and I), that I don't have what it takes to drive the career I want most....that maybe ultimately I'm not special at all and I will fail at whatever I set my hand to.

Soak in that last line - I fear that I'm not special and that I will fail in all that matters to me.  Feel that fear: feel how cold it is when it slinks into your bones, when it tightens its grip until those bones crackle and begin to splinter.  Feel how lonely it is, feel how dark, feel how confusing.  It's the kind of dizzy that makes you nauseaus.

If one of my friends was reading this - and they're not, because I really am anonymous, and I highly doubt they're doing super-sleuthing across the internet to seek out a blog that they don't know exists - they'd protest.  They'd talk about my innate leadership abilities, my smarts, my endurance.  They'd tell you how they believed in me, how it will all work out somehow.

But the kind of quaking I'm talking about can't be touched by kind words, or a hug, not even from a beloved girlfriend.

Are you still with me?  Because when you read this, don't be fooled into believing that just because I've decided to live life as PollyAnna, I don't feel suffering.

This is what suffering looks like sometimes.

But today, reviewing Ms. LaPorte, and with a little help from Mary Oliver, I think I caught a glimpse of what it is I'm supposed to be doing.  I heard a little fluttering of something warm and alive, deep down in my soul, where it has felt so cold and lonely, and I thought, maybe it is possible.

All souls have dark nights.  I've had darker than this one, and longer, too.  But that doesn't make me any less grateful for the pinprick of stars, that tiny streak in the darkness that whispers "perhaps it will work out somehow..."

Thanks, Ms. LaPorte.  I'm going to do those worksheets, the ones that I dog-eared, the ones that have some hard work in them....

And I'll revisit this from Mary Oliver, too, because when it's dark out, Mary Oliver's light shines, and today this one is speaking to me.  With it, maybe I can even hear my voice.

The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.