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.

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.

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 ~

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.

Online Dating

I remain at home with a stomach bug.  Disgusting - so not how I want to spend my time!

So, bored and restless, here I am.

I'm also hanging out on OkCupid, which is predictably boring during work hours.  But that place, while mend-bendingly weird, is also kind of fun for me.  I haven't had this much male attention since....well, it's been a while.  A long while.  And I'm fully aware that pixels do not a relationship make, and that none of this feels particularly real.

But here is a list of dealbreakers for me.  Gentlemen, avoid these pitfalls, and you might actually get some responses to you messages.

The easy ones, the cliches that are the joke of dating sites:
- The picture in the bathroom mirror.  Please. Just.  Don't.
- The shirtless ab photo.  If I wanted to see naked abs on guys I never intended to meet, I'd hang out on the Abercrombie website.  It just makes me think you're shallow and terribly unaware of what women want.  Well, what I want, anyway.
- The text-message style illiterate.

But here are a few more, just to amuse you:
- If you live on a different continent, I don't intend to date you.  Or get you a Green Card.
- If you are looking for a girl who believes that men should be the heads of household and that contraceptives are immoral, then why are you contacting a self proclaimed lefty liberal feminist?!
- No, you may not lick my feet.  Thanks for saying "hello" before you asked, but no.
- One message said, and I quote, from beginning to end, "your cute larry."  Actually, Larry, you're not mine, and you're not cute.  (Were I to have replied with that, I don't think Larry would have understood my joke.)
- Cut and paste messages or the word "hi" don't exactly get me all atwitter.
- In my profile I mentioned that I was a cancer survivor.  But the line in an intro message to me, " I want to eat your cancer when you turn black," was really, really creepy.  What does that mean?!
- Any message that tells me I'm sexy, hot, beautiful (usually with at least three adjectives) and nothing else is not getting a response from me.  Does that work on anyone?
- One gentleman contacted me and said he was too old for me (true), but he knew how negative men on these sites could be, so he wanted to tell me I had a nice profile.  Was this an attempt to give me sympathy?  Uh, sorry, but I've got plenty of attention here, I don't need your sympathy.  (Besides, Larry likes me, and some guy wants to lick my feet. So there.)
- Where on earth on my profile did I show a cougar?!  Guys almost 20 years younger....wow.  Same goes for guys 20 years older.  I'm sorry, I'm apparently not that open minded.
- I am happy for you that you and your wife have an open marriage.  But I don't want to be a part of it.
- I am sorry that your wife isn't good in bed.  I'm glad that you like her.  No, I will not sleep with you.  Please give me your wife's number so I can call her, I think there is something she'd like to know.

And this just in:  not a deal breaker but it cracked me up.  One question is about your relationship to your parents, and in the guy's response he said he liked to immolate his parents.  I'm pretty sure this is a spelling error and not a crime, but it made me laugh.

The good news?  There are nice guys out there.  Guys whose profiles do not scream "I am psychotic!" or "Heeeeey baby wanna doooooo it?"  Guys who are single fathers, who have jobs, who have outside interests.  Guys who are stumbling around trying to find joy, and peace, and meaning.  Guys who have their acts together, guys who show a picture of themselves hiking or waterskiing or on their snowboard, and a picture of themselves with friends around a table, and another on a travel adventure, and maybe one at the pumpkin patch with their kids.

I've yet to me the guy that curls my toes and makes me want to take it to the next level - I am just not having the "oh, he's cute" reaction to profiles.  There's one guy I've been "talking" to for a couple of days - a community college professor, a dad, a world traveler.  I can't decide if there are sparks.  But if there are, there are, and if there aren't, there are more fish in the sea.

I have to say, it is veeeerrrrrry different dating now than when I dated 20 years ago.

For one thing, this online thing is very handy.  There is no way I'm going to college parties, and the parties that I go to now often have a movie playing for the kids somewhere, and I'm the only unmarried there.  I have never been a good bar-girl - I'm highly suspicious of meeting inebriated strangers.  (Maybe I was listening to my mother after all.)  And searching for soul mates while home with the stomach flu and wearing my bathrobe - well, it's pretty convenient!  I can screen out the guys who say they're looking for casual sex - now that is really convenient - and the ones who profess great love for television shows but not actual life.  I can screen for politics (really, if you didn't vote for Obama, twice, then we are a very bad fit), and religious fanatics.  All very helpful.

But the rest of it is confusing.  How will I find time to date?  Still haven't figured that one out, and community college dad is on opposite weekends from me with his kids, so I may not be figuring out with him.  And how can I screen without being super shallow?  I get to see a couple of pictures, but I can't tell how real they are (last weekend's tea date was clearly showing me old photos - much thinner, younger photos).  I care about more than looks....but should I really screen out everyone under six feet tall?  I'm tall, and I am attracted to tall guys....but where do I draw the line?

Maybe I'll be able to meet real men one of these days, and maybe I'll figure out online dating.  But the beauty of all this -besides bathrobe flirtations - is that I am under no illusions that this has anything to do with my self worth.  When I get picked up on by lots of guys, it doesn't mean anything, and when I get ignored by someone, it doesn't mean anything.  My self worth has nothing to do with what random strangers on the internet think of me, and that, my friends, is a beautiful thing to know.

Divorce: A How To Guide, Part II

I rattled off yesterday's post quickly before going to work, with my top of mind thoughts, and left out a great deal.  Given that I'm now home with the stomach flu (yuck!) I'll take my "bonus" time to expand on those thoughts.  It's a bit preachy (maybe a lot), and I recognize that my divorce is new and unproven - and yet I feel certain in my marrow that I am onto something here, and that within these ideas lies some deep truth.

Here goes.
*****

I think that the reasons I'm feeling successful in my divorce are the following:
1)  I am committed to following my bliss, no excuses
2) I am working incredibly hard at creating that feeling of success
3) My feelings of success are not tied to my ex's actions

Following my bliss:

They don't call my PollyAnna for nothin'.  My best talent is my ability to find happiness in most situations, to find the silver lining and give it a good polish.  I have certainly worked hard to cultivate this talent, but still, perhaps it comes easier to me than others - I have no idea, knowing only my own experience with it.

Here's how I do it: I seek - over and over and over - experiences that will bring me joy, and I look hard to find joy in the tiniest of things.  I believe that finding joy is a skill like any other, and that practice makes it easier.

For example, I've made a routine of morning coffee that is simple, but deeply joyful to me.  When I wake up in the morning, I push aside the "oh no I have to get out of bed!" thought that comes first, and replace it with "ooohhhh I love coffee."  I brew my coffee, and close my eyes for a moment to inhale the aroma.  I choose my favorite cup every morning (I wash it daily of course), the one that feels great in my hand, that was a gift from a friend, that is my favorite color.  I force myself to get out of bed early for the pleasure of sitting in my favorite chair and drinking it in the quiet.  And the whole time, I focus on that simple pleasure, keeping my thoughts close at hand and not planning my day or worrying.  Five minutes to get the day started, doing something that doesn't require anything "special" but sets the tone for the day that follows. 

It is hard to be unhappy when one is sitting there reveling in a pleasure, when one starts the day with such a pleasure.

Of course, my "bliss" is a lot bigger than coffee in the morning - I am not lacking that much imagination.  I dream of travel, beaches, forests, art museums.  I dream of romantic love, too.  But I am focused on being happy in the here and now - in the music I listen to on my headphones as I bus to work, on the delicious avocado that is my favorite part of the spinach salad I bring to lunch daily. In the soft warmth of flannel sheets.  In the little snippets of information that my daughter shares with me, and the way her hair looks when the sun shines on it.  In beaches covered in frosty logs in the early morning.  In occassional girls' nights with wine and conversation.  In weekend trips to fall leaves or alpine lakes or snowshoeing, even if they're only for a few hours.  In fifteen minutes of reading in bed at night before I fall asleep, light on and book on my chest.  There is so much joy everywhere, waiting to be scooped up, and I am focused on finding every last bit of it.  At any given moment I could rattle off a long list of what is making me happy, because I have so much practice at cultivating that list. 

Today I am home with the stomach flu.  I threw up so hard I got a nosebleed.  (TMI, I know, sorry.)  But I'm so grateful for an understanding boss, for a cozy bed, for a dog that lays at my feet, and even for unexpected downtime.  I wish I felt better - I have such a long to-do list at work! - but there is even joy in the stomach flu if you look hard enough.

No excuses.  Go out there and grab your joy.  Follow your bliss.  Even if you have the flu.  Seek out every single reason, no matter how small, to feel joy.  All those drops of joy add up to an ocean.....unless you stop looking.


(Posted on Facebook today through "The Optimism Revolution" - a page I subscribe to.  I thought it hit on my message today, so I'm including it here.  My burning, big "yes" is joy.  Everything else needs to take a hike!)

Working Hard at Success:

My success is defined by my own personal combination of integrity and joy: if I feel like I am living my life with integrity and joy, then I'm successful.  I suppose everyone has their own definition of success, but that's mine, and it works for me.

And every day, after getting up before dawn to enjoy my coffee, to work out, and to get ready for the day; after spending the day working my rear end off at the office; after coming home to make dinner and sort the mail and help Katherine with homework and sweep up the tumbleweed dust bunnies....every day, as I fall exhausted into bed, instead of pining for more time and less responsibility, every night I am grateful to the tips of my toes that I'm able to pull this life of mine off.  I am PROUD of myself, and that is the dominant emotion.  Sure, I'd like a housecleaner and fewer hours in the office and time for a pedicure....but though those things might come one day, they do not get in the way of my joy NOW.  My pride is a great source of joy - I'm busting my butt to get the life I want, and though I wish I didn't have to work quite so hard, I know I have more than enough.  I know I am giving it my all, and it feels good to me.

My ex and I are opposites in just about every way, and perhaps this helps me to see my bliss more clearly.  He is unemployed, and has all the time in the world.  He never has Katherine on a school day, so he never has to get up early to pack her lunch etc.  He doesn't appear to care about housework or making healthy meals (he eats fast food).  He doesn't work out.  And I see how desperately unhappy he is, and how though he has the time I crave, I wouldn't trade places with him for the world.  Time and money don't create happiness - oh, they help, but they're not enough.

Katherine is not a morning person.  Actually, in the morning, she is a horrible grump, and no matter how early I wake her up or how long I let her sleep, she moves so slowly that we are almost late every single morning.  I fought this for years without success, and we would depart for our buses on grouchy terms with one another - me filled with frustration, her grumpy because I'd get snappy with her.  But instead of accepting this, I set my alarm back yet another 15 minutes, and now I wake Katherine up by climbing into her bed (already dressed in my work clothes - and let me tell you, a pencil skirt is not designed to climb a bunkbed ladder, but I've mostly figured it out!) and reading to her for the first fifteen minutes of her day.  I'm not a morning person either, and I'd love that 15 minutes of extra sleep, but it's worth it to me to put int he extra effort to start my day with my daughter on the right foot.  It's not easy....but it's easier than being grumpy.

I am putting in 110% at work because it helps me towards my dreams.  I'm putting in 110% of myself into my daughter, because nothing matters more to me.  I'm putting in 110% and getting up at 4:45am each day to work out at 5am because I care about my health, and because it makes me feel good to have accomplished it each day.  I'm putting myself 'out there' for online dating, even though I don't feel certain of that world, because I know I eventually hope to find true love and I must start somewhere.  I continue volunteering because I believe it changes the world, even if it's only in tiny increments, and because I believe it shows Katherine how to live our values.  And yes, it's hard work, and yes, I sometimes groan "what was I thinking" as I head to my responsibilities.  But I go anyway, because that hard work pays off with feelings of success - happiness.

And I put 200% in to being cordial with my ex.  I have to put extra into it because it does not come naturally to me any more, because he doesn't behave at all the way I wished he did.  But I know our daughter needs him, and she needs me to put in the effort.  If you think I wanted to serve my ex breakfast on Christmas morning, you're crazy!  But I served it, I smiled, and I cleaned it up again. ( I also saged the house the first opportunity I could after he left and when Katherine was elsewhere.  I don't feel positive about things when he's in the room, though I try.  The sage symbolically helped me to rid those feelings.  I had to take action of some kind - working hard to feel positive again.) 

It isn't easy.  I think the reason most people give up on joy is because it's so damn hard, actually.  It is "easier" for people to state the facts: they're tired, and lonely, and it's all horribly unfair.  Well, yup, true for me, too, as much as I hate to admit it.  But giving in to those facts doesn't serve anyone, least of all me.  I'm fighting them with everything in me: working out to get more energy, seeking friends and even dates to stave off loneliness (all the while accepting it....sort of), acknowledging that it isn't fair.  But in all that hard work, I find the other truth: that life is rich and meaningful and filled with possibility, that I am capable of true happiness, that today is more lovely than awful.

I do have an advantage, of course.  I've already been through cancer, and that was pretty unfair, but I lived through my worst nightmares and am here to tell the tale.  But I also lost friends who had tiny babies - friends who died of cancer before their children were old enough to even remember that they had a mother.  So that's pretty damn unfair, and I guess I'm the lucky one, and I should get out there and live the lives they didn't get to live.  I certainly have that perspective, and it's deep in my marrow.  Once you have stared your worst fears in the face, and done the impossible, doing other impossible tasks seems a bit easier.  (Silver lining of cancer.  Go figure!)

Getting divorced is a lot of work.  Finding joy is a lot of work.  Keeping integrity is a lot of work.  Do not use that as an excuse to get out of living your best life.  It's hard, there are many obstacles, and it's worth it.  Work hard to get what you are seeking.

My joy and integrity aren't tied to anyone else's actions.

I am responsible for my own behavior, no matter what anyone else does.

My ex yells.  He lies.  He denies.  He stonewalls.  He "forgets."  He has pretty much every unhealthy behavior in the book with alarming frequency.  It would be pretty easy to blame a lot of things on him.  I have lots of sympathetic friends and family members who wouldn't blame me for yelling at him or taking him for every penny or cutting him out entirely or something like that.

But that wouldn't hold integrity, and so I won't do it.

I could sob that I have to work so hard because of his screw ups - we had such a potential for a beautiful life, and he squandered it!  It would be true.

But it wouldn't give me joy to live in that mindset, so I won't do it.  (Okay, I've done it.  But I decided to stop.)

Nobody will blame you for holding anger at your ex, for blaming him for the problems that he clearly dumped into your lap.  You are likely quite justified.  He screwed up, and it left you stuck with his mess.  It sucks, no question about that.

But once you've had your pity party and sobbed, "It's so unfair!" get over it, and don't let his mess dictate how you live.

Smile at him.  Include him in communication.  When he yells at you, communicate calmly that yelling isn't okay, but don't engage.  Bite your tongue until it bleeds if necessary, but hold in that cutting (but so true!) comment.

Let him do what he must do.  Don't let it dictate what you must do.

Financially, work hard towards financial independence.  My ex is financially unreliable and has been for years.  Though I need his assistance still, I'm also determined to live so that I do not.  I'm working on my next raise, working on keeping my expenses low, so that if he bails on me, I'll be okay.  Easier for some than others but a worthy goal for all.  (Again, I'm grateful for my skills, education, and network.  Amen.)

And choose the life you want.  Choose happiness.  Anne Frank said, "Despite it all, I believe that people are good."  Viktor Frankl said a million things on the subject, but I'll close with this one:

Everything can be taken from a man or a woman but one thing: the last of human freedoms to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way.
Viktor E. Frankl

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/v/viktor_e_frankl.html#XcrWdGS2u2ZDOVsA.99


(Really, read Frankl.  He's brilliant.  Here's a smattering of his ideas that might help you through the tough times. http://www.goodreads.com/author/quotes/2782.Viktor_E_Frankl  If he could hold these attitudes through concentration camps, perhaps I can hold them through divorce.  Comparably, my life is a cakewalk.)

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!

Merry Christmas from the Family

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P37xPiRz1sg

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We are deep in the heart of holiday season: Thanksgiving is behind us, Christmas is just around the corner.  Katherine and I have decked the halls, and she spent one lovely night sleeping next to the Christmas tree, snuggled under a snowman blanket.  We have seen a Christmas concert, and we've done our holiday tradition of the carousel downtown and a horse drawn carriage ride at night around the city.

Though Bryan only moved out in July, this is our second "separated" Christmas.  Last year, he lived downstairs, and I lived upstairs, with an awful lot of overlap.  I won't lie, that was an incredibly difficult Christmas for me.  I didn't send out holiday cards because I didn't know what to say on them, or even who to sign them from: we lived in the same house, but surely we couldn't send out a "family" card?  Christmas last year, Bryan left in the middle of dinner and locked himself in his bedroom while our house was full of guests.  Nothing provoked this; while I'm sure he found it all as surreal as I did, there was nothing that went wrong or no awkward moment that sent him storming downstairs.  When I knocked on his door and asked whether he was going to join us for dessert (we were all waiting), he yelled at me to go away.  To say that it was unpleasant wouldn't even touch on it.

In addition to our uneasy living situation, last year I wasn't working, I didn't have a solid plan, and our finances were a mess.

So, this year, by comparison, feels like a piece of cake.  Chocolate cake with buttercream frosting and a drizzle of raspberry, actually.  Decadent and beautiful.

This year, with Bryan in his own apartment, decorating the tree had no awkward moments.  He did not complain about the size (too big!) or the location (why do you have to put it there?) or the ornaments (why do you have so many?) or the needles (why even bother if it's just going to die?).  He did not complain about our listening to Christmas carols (don't they get on your nerves?) and he did not complain about how long it took.  Katherine and I had a grand time doing it, and it was absolutely stress free.  I was a bit worried about how I'd do it without another adult to help (we like trees that touch the ceiling!), but somehow, we managed.  She climbed on my shoulders to place the angel on top, and it was magical.  (It involved a lot of giggling.  We both felt like we were going to topple, and somehow that was hysterical.  The angel is a little crooked, but I love her all the more for it.)

This year, I can buy my own gifts for people with my own money.  I don't need to negotiate with him, and I don't need to see him buying himself things he doesn't need and telling me that there is no money for our nieces and nephews.

This year, there is a beautiful picture of Katherine and I, taken by a friend, that goes on our holiday card.  It is beautiful, the best photo we've ever had together, and it makes me happy just to see it.  We will sign them together, and it feels natural and wonderful.

To say I'm relieved by my divorce isn't putting it lightly - my life is a thousand times better this year than it was last year.

But I haven't forgotten that it's not all about me, and that Katherine's feelings matter more than ever, and that she likely still longs for her intact nuclear family, not the two-residences version.  And I haven't forgotten my vow to make her life as great as I can.

So, when Katherine said, "Mama, can Daddy spend the night on Christmas Eve?" I only verifed that she meant in the guest room, and then when she said "yes" I smiled and said "Of course!  Let's invite him."  I reached out to Bryan, explained that it was important to our daughter to have both of her parents there for breakfast and presents, and he accepted the invitation.

I was pleased as can be.  THIS is the divorce I hoped for, where we set aside our differences and come together for our beautiful child.

I was pleased for a few hours before I thought "OH NO!  HE'S GOING TO SPEND THE NIGHT IN MY HOUSE!"  For a moment, I thought "I can't do this!  No, no, no!"  But I can, and I will.  One night out of 365 is not such a big deal, and if it brings joy to our daughter, then so be it.

I will have to serve him breakfast.  And clean it up.  He will not offer to help, and if I offer sausage he'll say, "What?  No bacon?" and he may criticize my variety of coffee (strong and dark).  He will either inform me that I bought way too many presents for Katherine, or not enough.  He will belch and not say "excuse me."  He will not acknowledge my hospitality, and he will not thank me for including him.

It is what it is.  He has not changed because we are getting divorced; sometimes he's even worse.

But it doesn't matter.  I can set it aside for Christmas, and I can ignore his bad behavior.  What my daughter will witness is her mom making every effort to give her a great holiday.  Katherine will see me being pleasant and kind and compassionate.  I will not rise to his bait, and I will not snap at him.  (What I think is another matter, but as long as it doesn't come out, no problem!)

Katherine gets both of her parents at the holiday table, and I get the peace of knowing that I'm doing a good thing.

I also get the peace of knowing it's only one night a year, and that counts for a lot!

Rest

Burning the candle at both ends made me crabby.

But it's 10am, and I'm still in my (Christmas) PJs.  Katherine is just starting to stir in her bed.  Sure, I've done a load of laundry and put away things left in the sink last night, but I'm also on my third cup of coffee and I spent a half hour on the phone talking to one of my best friends.

Ahhhh.

It is amazing how a bit of rest can change one's perspective.

*****

Today's agenda includes getting, and setting up, our Christmas tree, just Katherine and I.  Though I'm a bit worried about my ability to do it without adult help, I think that Katherine is just old enough to be of some real assistance, and it will be just fine.  We will have hot apple cider, we will play carols (my favorite Christmas album is Wintersong by Sarah McLachlan; this year I also purchased the James Taylor Christmas CD; and no Christmas is complete without some Charlie Brown Christmas and some rat pack Christmas songs).  We will chide our crazy kitten (who is over a year old now but rather energetic) that trees are not for climbing, and we will keep the more delicate ornaments up high and out of her reach.

We will get the biggest Frasier fir in our budget.  If the angel on top touches the (nine foot) ceiling that's just perfect.

And then tonight, some friends are coming over, and we're walking to the beach a mile from my house, where we will watch the Christmas Ships.  The ships will be all lit up, and they play Christmas carols, and those of us on the beach will sing along - it's a northwest tradition.  Then, we'll walk back to my place, open some wine, and order Thai food.  (My Martha Stewart self is horrified - no winter traditional stew, or maybe a lasagna?  But my working-mama self is delighted not to spend the day shopping and then cooking.)  Tonight Katherine will watch Charlie Brown Christmas with her friends, while my friends and I listen to Diana Krall crooning Christmas songs while we drink wine by candle and Christmas-tree light.

*****

I have no anxiety about this, none at all.  I used to feel anxious about events like this, because the walk made Bryan crabby, because he thought the tree was too much of a hassle, because Bryan's bad mood would rub off on the guests, because I never understood how something so lovely as setting up a Christmas tree could be cause for anger and snappishness.  Sure, it will be cold on the beach, but that is what sweaters and down coats and gloves and hats are for!

It is easier to be single than it was to be married to Bryan.  I am alone, but I am no longer lonely.  It will be easier to put up an eight foot tree by myself (well, with a child's help) than it was to have a "big strong man" who helped but also complained and snapped.

*****

Today I'm counting my blessings.  I worked very hard all week, but today is a day of my choosing, and I choose to embrace the holiday season, to deck my halls, and to love every minute of it.

I've gotta run - the girl is up now, and it's time to have some fun.  Here we go!

Whatever it takes...

I continue to wake up at 4:45am to work out from 5-6am, in the hopes that I will find myself filled with energy throughout the day as a result.

But let's be honest, I'd rather look like this:
 or this:
or this (but brunette):



than like this:


So, that's got something to do with it.

But today it occurred to me that spring is really just around the corner, and with it, I intend to get out into the dating world.

When I walk into the restaurant/bar/coffee shop to meet someone for the first time, I want to have a spring in my step that can only come with confidence.  I want to wonder what I will think of him, rather than wondering what he will think of his first impression of me.  I want to feel good (cue Nina Simone).

But to take it one step farther...

One day, I'm going to have sex again.  (Oh dear God I hope so, anyway.)  And that, my friends, is incentive for me to get up at 4:45am to have a woman in yoga pants torture me, or to head out in pouring rain with my dog.

It's hard enough to be a single mom on the dating scene - when will I have time for a coffee, let alone tangling the sheets?  It's hard enough to be facing first time sex (e.g. not with someone who has known me, and my body, for years) when I'm in my forties.  It's pretty complicated because I've had double mastectomies and reconstruction, and I'm going to have to be sassy and sexy despite scars and silicone.  I can at least make sure things aren't jiggly, that I feel strong.

Whatever it takes.  I'd love to say it's all about health and energy and feeling great, but let's be honest.  The idea of getting naked in front of a man is a very good incentive to whip my butt into shape.   And if that is incentive at that ridiculous hour of the morning, I will take it!

Climbing the Pyramid

Maslow's, that is.

I have been fighting so hard for the basics for so long - fear over health, employment, losing the house, and the rest, that I have really been struggling.

Last weekend in my yoga retreat, the facilitator of the "dreams workshop" portion of events reminded us, through pictures and exercises and discussions, that it wasn't until we gave ourselves some nurturing that we could live up to our potential, creatively and purposefully.  I've thought about his words quite a bit in the last week or so, and realized that the timing for that workshop could not have been more perfect, because I have just broken free from the "safety and security" level of the pyramid, and shot up towards the top.

No wonder I feel giddy.

I was really prepared to sell my home - and Katherine's sense of home - if I couldn't get the refi.  And I've still not entirely adjusted to my new job and the belief of its security.  It's hard to move from cancer patient to post-cancer-life.  And I've been terrified of all that my life has done to my daughter, and of course there's DIVORCE, and all the rest.

But you know what?  The divorce has turned a corner: we've completed paperwork, and it's fine.  Our daughter is happy and secure.  I spent the Thanksgiving holiday with my inlaws (affectionately refered to as my exlaws), giving and receiving hugs, basting turkey, watching a movie, and feeling quite settled.  Bryan was there too, and the name cards at the table had us seated as a family, with Katherine between us.

And it was fine.  And fun!  I didn't feel angry, I didn't feel bitter, I felt.....fine.  Amazingly fine.  I know that our "family" time is good for our daughter, and I also know that at the end of the night I go home alone, and both of those things are such a huge relief.  I know that his behavior is not a reflection of who I am, and I don't need to cover it up or feel bad about it.  I don't expect him to be thoughtful, and when he's not, it's fine, because I'm not relying on him.

And my beautiful kitchen is just inches away from completion, and I feel so happy about my marble backsplash that I'm sure I've lost my mind, but I don't care.  Gazing at my giant double sink and pretty faucet, I could cry tears of gratitude.  My home isn't moldy, it's lovely, and it feels not only safe, but also pretty.

And my job....my job is going great.  How amazing is that?  Nine years out of the workforce, and I have actually pulled this off, and I love where I work and it pays the bills and I feel incredibly blessed.

So, up the pyramid I go.

*****

I have hired a personal trainer to come to my house once a week for six weeks at five in the morning.  Yes, five.  I know better than anybody how important health is, and I'm ready to seize mine.  I'm height weight proportionate, but I'm squishy and lethargic, and I'm ready for a burst of energy.  The idea is that the trainer will get me moving, and give me homework for the rest of the week.  I'm still frugal (I roped a friend into this with me, so we split the costs, which actually weren't too bad, surprisingly) and I know that spending the money will get me moving the rest of the week, too.

And I signed up for the Breast Cancer 3-Day next summer.  I'm ready to work on changing the world, and this cause means a great deal to me.   (How on earth can I raise $2400?  We will find out!  I've done it before, I can do it again.)  And I'm running the giving tree for my church - Katherine and friends helped me to set up the tree today and cover it with tags, and we hope to get gifts for 150 or more children again this year.

Charity work makes me feel alive.

And I'm committed to writing, and editing.  Still working on it, but I know I can do it.

And I'm still planning on Paris next summer.

And today I took the dog for a walk near the beach, and the sun sparkling on the water just made me gasp with how beautiful it was.

If I can do it, anybody can.  I started from a pretty low place, and I feel so incredibly alive and hopeful right now.  If I can do it, you can.  If you are in an ugly marriage with no hope of improvement, please, do what it takes to save yourself.  I have to tell you, I haven't felt this good in years, and you deserve to feel that way, too.

Need further convincing?

My daughter is doing better than she has in years, too.  No, she's not thrilled at the divorce, and nor do I expect her to be.  But she's doing academically well, getting along great with both parents, and by every definition is well adjusted.  She's in the other room right now making Christmas cards, occassionally calling out "how do you spell.....?" and singing along with Christmas carols on the radio.  At dinner tonight, she was so animated, talking to me of this and that, that her beauty caught in my throat.  She is happy, and she is well.  I never dreamed how she would blossom in the divorce, doing even better than before.

Self actualiztion?  Sure, why not.  It's a good goal.  I'm going to aim high.  And I'm going to lead the way for my daughter, teaching her that living down in the "seeking safety" part of the pyramid is no way to live, and that we both deserve better.

*****

I do not feel like I need a man to be complete.  I feel pretty darned happy.

But I also feel like this new version of myself, the one I'm doing JUST FOR MYSELF, is going to draw the kind of man I'd like to spend time with.

I don't know if my sailboat dreams will come true, but they might.  Right now, I'm working on my life with Katherine, making sure I'm living up to my potential, not relying on a man to furnish my happiness.  I'm very content to be alone right now, because I know it's giving me space to work on myself, and because I'm enjoying that process so immensely, and I don't want to lose my focus before it's entirely internalized.

But I think that handsome, kind, joyful, spiritual, together man, the one I dream of, is out there, and when I meet him I won't be all filled with self-doubts about my own ability to match him, to be worth his love.  I will bring my best self to the table, and he will see it for what it is, and he will love it, and me.

Sounds nice, doesn't it?  Stay tuned.  I think it's getting closer, even though I haven't had a date in months, and those were rather simple and exploratory and disasterous.  :-)  I'll know when the time is right, and I look forward to that.

But now?  Work.  Katherine.  And Christmas.  And climbing the pyramid, excited to see the view from the top.  I don't know how much farther it is to the top, but I know I'll get there.

Giddy

I can't quite explain it, but I'm feeling positively giddy right now.

I'm on that beach, not drowned, and it feels better than I thought possible.  I wake up and do a little check each morning - cancer? no.  drowning in debt? no.  in a terrible relationship? no.  Katherine doing well? yes.  job? fantastic. major crisis? none.

And then my eyes fly open and I pretty much start giggling.  I am overflowing with hope and optimism, and I can hardly believe that I'm in this place right now.

At parent-teacher conferences last week (Bryan and I went together - so glad we can get it together enough for that!) I waited to hear anything of concern, and there was nothing.  It turns out that Katherine is a horrible speller (the subject of an earlier teacher call that induced momentary panic about dyslexia), but that she is doing great with everything else academically.  Hey, if she needs to be a rotten speller, so be it, I can live with that!  And again, we heard how she was kind, social, attententive, a pleasure to have in class.  And those magical words, "She's a really happy kid."  And "You have nothing to worry about."

How could I not be giddy?  Katherine is well!  She's really, truly well!

Last weekend I did a yoga retreat with a workshop about crafting one's life, and it reminded me of who I am and who I wish to be.  I immediately signed up for a personal trainer with a friend, and felt giddy that I could afford it (and wise because she is going to come to my house at 5am once a week; this means that I don't have to leave Katherine alone; the rest of the time I'll work out on my own; the shared costs make it affordable).  And I signed up for the Breast Cancer 3-Day for next year; it's time to move my body more and it's time to end the disease that tried to kill me and might one day go after my daughter.

And I'm leading the giving tree at church - last year we were able to provide toys for a couple hundred foster children, and we also gave a very nice check to the foster child organization, and this year we're doing it again.  This Sunday I'll set up the tree, hang the tags, and try to inspire a couple hundred people to give.

THIS is the life I'm meant to live.  Healthy in body and soul, giving back to the world.  Appreciating my good fortune, enjoying every second of it that I can.  My cozy house, my incredible, beautiful, amazing daughter; my loving dog and my crazy but sweet (and healthy again) cat.  The girlfriends who absolutely get me, who don't mind if I'm a mess and celebrate with me when I'm happy.

And able to pay my bills with a smidge left over.  How is that even possible?  And the fact that I found a job that I enjoy that also provides flexibility - how did that happen?

Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou.  Wow.  Thank you.

The other day on the bus there was a street prophet - a man who appeared homeless and perhaps mentally ill.  He was speaking loudly, but under his matted hair and dirty clothes there wasn't anger, but joy.  He called out to everyone "It's going to be a great year.  Things are looking better!  2013 is going to be wonderful!  It really is!  Things are picking up, and it's going to be great!" 

If he can feel that kind of joy, why can't I?  Well, I can.  And I do.  And he reminded me of how easy my life is, despite how hard it has been sometimes.

There will be hard times again - they come and they go, and they will come again.

But this Thanksgiving, as I sit down at a table with more than a dozen of my soon-to-be-ex relatives, including Bryan, I have a heart full of joy.  I can afford to be kind to him because I am filled with hope for the future, and because in this very minute, I am not drowning, I'm soaking up the sunshine, even though it's raining outside.

Giddy with gratitude.  ThankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouWow.

A shift in the breeze

I feel a change in the wind.  It's subtle, no gusting hurricanes but rather a little ripple on the lake where just moments before it was still.

I'm thinking about men.

So far, I'm just thinking.  I don't seem to have time or energy to do much outside of my work, my daughter, and my home, all three of which are all consuming.  I am not working out right now and feeling the sluggishness of that, in addition to the sluggishness of a thyroid run amuck.

But I'm thinking....

My finances are coming under control.  They have a direction, and that direction is positive.

My home is coming under control.  With a refi, I'm going to be able to do some necessary repairs.

Katherine is doing great. 

My job is positively, unbelievably great.  Not only does it pay the bills, but I enjoy it.

My head is in a pretty good place.  I'm proud of myself for dealing with what needs dealing with in my life, and for owning my mistakes, and for doing my best to make my life its best.  Aside from one major cancer freak out where in the space of five minutes I convinced myself that death was imminent, the gremlin in my head that says "it'll never work" is mostly pretty quiet these days.  The gremlin that says "you're a fraud, and you're not worthy..." merely whispers every now and then, and has stopped shouting.

Friends and family, all in good working order.

Self care, improving.

And perhaps because these things are in order, I find myself wondering about love, romance, dating: men.

I clearly don't need someone to rescue me.  Look at me, rescuing myself!  And I don't need a co-parent; I do a great job on my own, and Bryan is improving.  (Katherine is with him on vacation, and they're having a great time.)  I hired someone to help with the yard when it became clear that I couldn't manage it well, and I managed to get the car fixed without any input.

But I don't want a man in my life to complete me, or to fix me, or to rescue me, or to take things down from high shelves, or to do my dirty work.  I don't want a man to pay my bills, or to keep me safe.

But I think I'm starting to want the company of a man, or men, again.

When I went to the doctor to discuss my thyroid issue, I brought up the issue of sex after divorce.  I pointed out that I have only had one sexual partner since 1995 (and I think it's fair to say that I've been re-virginized in the divorce), and that I don't know much about navigating the landscape of a new sexual partner.  We talked a bit about awkward STD conversations (and I got a list of possible symptoms that made my eyes water - yikes) and staying safe, and I pondered out loud that I didn't know if I wanted to have some fun to blow off steam or if I was looking for partner material right out of the gate.  I know I'm "safe" given my own history and clean bill of health, but that list did take some of the fun out of the prospect of playing around.

As much as I'd like to have some fun - did I mention it's been a while?! - I think that for me it's not nearly as fun if there isn't an emotional connection, a deep one.  Not only would I enjoy some naked romping - who wouldn't?! - I'd love some long beach walks at sunset.  (Hey, don't laugh.  I live in a beachy area on the west coast, where the sunsets are spectacular.)  I'd love a partner to see plays and movies with.  I'd love a hiking buddy, and I'd like to get into cross country this year in addition to my regular snowshoeing, and it would be great to have a handsome man to drive into the mountains with, listening to NPR or music or flirting.  I'd love to meet someone after work on my non-Katherine days, perhaps for a glass of wine at the great French restuarant down the street from my office - I want to wear high heels and a skirt and enjoy the attention of a man.

And in the middle of it all I'd love a man to lean over, look me straight in the eyes, and kiss me slowly.  Mmm hmm, I'd like that a lot.



I'm not sure what I'm going to do about any of this yet.  Online dating seems, well, tired.  I'm not opposed, but I'm not sure that all of those lists and questions are the way to find an interesting person.  And I hang out with women, and the husbands of those women, and have few to no single men in my life.  I don't really want to wait until the divorce is final - that takes so long! - but wonder if I ought to.

So, more questions than answers; on the subject of men, I have very few answers, actually.

Well, I do have one answer.  I know this much:

I value myself, and any man I meet needs to value me, too.  I need to respect the men I date.  I'm not a one night stand.  I'm interested in exploring bodies more slowly than that, in tandem with exploring the whole person.  This may be a problem in a society where women who do not put out by the third date are considered prudes, but I'm okay with that.  (Okay, but possibly lonely!)  I am a strong woman, and I want a strong man.

No action on my end - I'm not 'putting myself out there' yet.  I thought I'd wait a full year after Bryan moved out to begin dating, but maybe not. 

But the idea of that kiss, on a beach or in a restuarant..... mmmmmm.

Self Care

I wear my hair long, because I like it that way.  In part, I just like having long hair, but this is emphasized by the fact that I was once bald and didn't enjoy it even a bit.  Having long hair is like a statement of health for me - maybe nobody else sees it that way, but when I put my hair in a ponytail or flip it over my shoulder, I know that it is a sign that I am well again.

I also wear my hair long because I can get away with lack of care with long hair: a short cut needs regular maintenance, but with a longer one you can fake it a bit.

A bit.

My hair had grown straggly and sad.  It was starting to scream "I don't take time for myself."  My haircut let the world know that I didn't care how I looked.

Except....I do.  I wish to be beautiful - doesn't every woman?  And I have told myself that healthy hair was enough, but we all know that a good cut makes a world of difference, whether hair is long or short.

Today I took the plunge, pulled out my debit card, and got my hair cut at a decent salon.  In addition to getting my hair cut, I got product.

But it's not about spending the money.  Okay, it's a little bit about that, because everything has a cost to it....but that's not what it's really about.  What it's really about is taking care of myself.  What it's really about is putting myself back on the list of people who deserve full care, with an equal claim to being cared for.

Bryan had haircuts every six weeks.  We made sure he had work clothes.  Katherine grows quickly, but has always had a decent wardrobe.  Bryan took the money he wanted to fuel his hobbies, and I always did the best I could to make sure that Katherine had the after school activities she wanted.

I never quite seemed to make the list, and when I did - a rebelious pedicure, perhaps - I felt guilty about it.  Mostly, I spent "my" money on groceries or small treats for Katherine.

I'm putting myself on the list of people who deserve care.  I would never want Katherine to feel guilty for taking piano, and I refuse to feel guilty for buying an outfit for work or getting my hair cut.  And I'm carving out time to take care of myself, not just money.  I even made an appointment for October for a follow up cut.

Bryan never left space for me to take care of myself, and goodness knows he didn't take care of me.  That ends here, now.  I am taking care of myself.

It feels incredible.  And it's wonderful modeling for Katherine - I don't want her to repeat my mistakes.  But mostly, it's just for me, and it feels so darned good.

A baby step, or a giant leap?  I'm not sure yet.  But my mindset has shifted, and for the better.

Too much

Today I need this:

The Peace of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
— Wendell Berry


I am overwhelmed today.  This week I'm tired - we got back late from our vacation, and then needed to hit the ground running for the work/school week.

But today there was tragedy in my community.  The kind of terrifying event that makes you go inside and lock your doors.  Schools were on lockdown.  Choppers circled overhead.  There was a constant stream of news, and I couldn't look away because people I knew were impacted and I just had to know, as if my knowing would somehow keep them safe.

In the end, I am home, and those I love best are safe.  My beautiful daughter is doing homework at the table next to me, wishing we were watching a movie together instead, but happy anyway.

I am overwhelmed right now: Bryan is suggesting we push back the move-out date, my job is extremely busy, I live in constant fretting about money, I'm overdue for an oncologist appointment (no concerns, but still...there are always concerns), and my to do list is so long that it seems unlikely I'll ever get it all done so I live in a bit of a state of triage.  Those who don't know me well tell me that I'm fine and I've got it all together, but those who know me better give me hugs and tell me that I have what it takes to do this...

And my beautiful city has gone mad.

Love and prayers tonight for all those who are hurting, overwhelmed, unable to cope.  My struggles are nothing compared to the struggles of those who lost lives, or lost someone they loved, but they are my struggles, and knowing that there is such senseless violence in my community has hurt me, too.

It may be foolish, but this random violence made my own problems seem much harder to deal with.




Prayers for us all.  Tonight I will light a candle and try to find some peace.  I wanted to go to where the heron stands tonight with Katherine, but I am too overwhelmed even to go to that healing place.  Maybe tomorrow.

Surely, tomorrow will be an easier day.....

Diving into Icy Water

I am back from my lovely vacation.  It was a retreat to a dear friend's cabin, so there was no escape from cooking or cleaning, but there was plenty of nature, lots of downtime, time with friends, hiking, and swimming in a place like this:



...and swimming in a place like this:



People do NOT swim in the mountains and lakes around here in May, unless they are insane.  Katherine and I are insane, and we love it.  The weather was unseasonably warm, and the water was a constant (and expected) freezing cold, but we dove in anyway.  I jumped off a county dock and my feet brushed the seaweed at the bottom, and I knew I was alive.  We jumped into a mountain lake where I couldn't see the bottom, and the metallic-snow-smell of the water let me know I was alive.  Living, with a capital L.

And to share that with my daughter?  There's nothing like it.  Reveling in nature, and in the beauty of our region, and in the fact that our bodies are healthy and strong, and that we are together....well, when I slice through the cold water, I get a rush like nothing else, and when I do it with her my body hums the refrain "that's my girl!" and I'm not sure if I'm talking about her or myself.

                                                                     *****

I used to hike most weekends, pre-marriage, and I always swam at the destination.  (Some like to hike to mountaintops.  I don't mind that, but I prefer it if there is a lake to jump in to cool off from the hard workout of the hike somewhere along the way, preferably the middle.)  I was a known skinny dipper: if I got to the lake and there were others there, I'd simply swim out in my swimsuit, then slip it off and hold it while I swum around where nobody could see me (because often I'd be the only one swimming).  This made me giggle, and felt a bit like wearing sexy lingerie under my clothes at a business meeting: it was a gift just for myself, a delicious secret.

Bryan wasn't into hiking, and he didn't smile at me the way other men had when I dove into cold water.  (Prior to Bryan, more than one man had found my antics in cold water HOT.)  Bryan frowned.  He told me I was foolish.  He rolled his eyes.  He said he was tired and wanted to go home.

I didn't hike or swim much at all during our marriage.

                                                                       *****
Our friends thought about jumping in.  They watched us smiling, and shrieking, and laughing, and they said, "Oh we should join you that looks so fun..." but they did not.  This did not surprise me, because it's not for everybody.  I am used to swimming alone, even when the hike is with friends.  Katherine is the only one I've ever met who will join me every time, no convincing needed.

Swimming in a mountain lake isn't unlike what I need to do with my life right now.  I'm diving into the pain, convinced that doing so will remind me what it feels like to be free, and that the exhileration of it will compensate for the fear and the icy shock.

In one month, Bryan needs to move out.

In one month, I will be my own primary breadwinner for the first time in nine years.

In one month, I will officially 100% be a single mom.

I've been standing at the edge of this lake, wading until my feet tingle with the pain, but soon, the wading must stop, and it will be time to dive in.  I think that I'll be underwater for a while, and that I'll nearly faint from the cold, but I believe that I will emerge more alive than ever, more myself than ever.  I only pray that this is so, and that removing the dysfunctional relationship from daily view will help Katherine emerge stronger, more sure of herself, as well.

It'd be easy to add up all the pain;
all the hopes and dreams you watched go up in flames...
But not me:
I'm alive.
I'm Alive, sung by Kenny Chesney and Dave Matthews
http://youtu.be/8VVpAqHJlQk

Anticipation

Sometimes the day to day is so difficult that I forget to dream about the future, but today I'm filled with dreams.

I'm trying to imagine what life will be like one, two, or three years from now.  How good that might be: how Katherine might adjust beautifully to this new, strange life we're giving her.  How my career - inching forward now - might really take off.  How being a working single mom might just seem like being alive, instead of a daily hurdle.  How my finances might be stabilized.  Trips to take, stories to write...  Maybe some romance.  Maybe.
   
   

And then I start to think of the shorter term, and that looks better, too.  Bryan is slovenly, and sharing a home makes that hard on me.  More importantly, he's liable to be sweet one minute and angry and confrontational the next, so I feel like I tiptoe around trying to stay out of his way; there is no sanctuary in being at home when he is there.  He often has Katherine in front of the TV while he sleeps or plays on the computer or works on a bike in the garage, and it's so hard for me to watch, and to hear as she says, "Daddy will you play with me?" and he replies "No, I'm busy."  "Busy with WHAT?!" I want to yell.  I try to say nothing.  (Sometimes, something slips out.  Like Cuckoo Mama, I might be wise to invest in duct tape.)

But this summer, that will shift.  He will move out - hopefully within a few blocks of our house so that Katherine can walk back and forth unsupervised at her will - and our home will be a sanctuary again.  I will have friends over for dinner again, mine and Katherine's.  I will steam clean the basement, top to bottom, to make it livable again.  I will help Katherine with her homework, and he will not tell me I'm helping her all wrong as he does now (even though he's unwilling to help, hasn't read the assignments, etc.).  I will make dinner, and he will not tell me he hates vegetables and make faces like a toddler.  I will stop wondering what all of my biting-my-tongue is teaching Katherine about how men should treat women, and what is okay to accept.
 


I will not have to listen to passive-aggressive anything in my walls again.
If Katherine's husband spoke to her the way Bryan speaks to me, I swear I'd kidnap her and move her to the other end of the earth.  Thinking about that gives me the courage to do this single mom thing, and if it was the only reason, it would be enough reason to divorce.

I pray that when he has his own place, he will feel connected to his own life once again, and he'll be more engaged in living.  I pray that knowing he can't see Katherine every minute he chooses, when he is with her he will really be with her.

I pray that when he is sleeping for hours during the day, or playing video games, since I won't see it, and nor with Katherine, I won't have to answer "Why does Daddy just lie on the sofa?" ever again.

I pray that when he moves, he will take his angry storm cloud with him, so that I can feel the sunshine on my face.  I pray that Katherine feels this sunshine, too, and that somehow it makes up for his absence.

I have been mourning the end of our marriage, and the end of Katherine's nuclear family even more than that, for a long time.  I wrestle with it daily.  But I really, really think that good things might come out of this for all of us.

I'm counting on it.