Finding My Way Back To Myself

It has been almost two years since some of the darkest days of my life. It’s odd. I look back now at the woman I was during those days and she seems removed from me. She seems weak, confused, scared, paralyzed.

See I don’t even like to refer to her as me. But, she is. I won’t disavow her again. Because, if the first year after filing for divorce was about stabilizing. Triaging. Stopping the bleed with anything I could make a fucking tourniquet out of. This year has been about being open.

I have been on a journey. And, it has been glorious, joyful, painful, difficult, messy, and scary. Plus, I don’t see an end in sight. I’m coming to realize this journey only stops when I choose to hide from myself or I die. I’m not prepared for either of those possibilities at the moment.

I vowed to stay open this year. Open to any experiences that came my way or that I could create. Open to learning new things. Open to dipping my toes in the water of connection with new people and old friends. Open to beauty and pain. Open to hard work and rest. Open to life.

But, it wasn’t until a week or so ago when I picked up the book The Choice: Embracing The Possible by Dr. Edith Eva Eger that I realized something profound, I haven’t been open to accepting the woman who stayed in an abusive, lonely relationship for almost fifteen years. The woman who after being pushed to the ground repeatedly and called a stupid, disorganized, bitch princess by her spouse in front of her children came meekly back to apologize for upsetting him time and again. The woman who took him back after he threatened to kill her. The woman who came to believe she was so ugly and worthless and fucked up that no one would ever really love her. That she shouldn’t even dare to love herself.

I have put that version of myself in a box. Tucked her away neatly on the upper shelf of some corner of my mind, locked her in a little teeny tiny room in my heart and hidden the key. As if she didn’t exist. As if her choices were just an oversight. A lapse of judgement. Like running a red light while distractedly changing the song on the car radio.

But, none of that is true. Everything I did, I did - those were real choices that I made. I own that.

I chose everything I chose. I chose to marry an addict. I chose to have children with him. I chose to enable him. I chose to stay for years when I got no emotional or physical fulfillment out of my relationship. I chose to hide everything from people who loved me and were concerned. I chose to stay because I was so fucking scared of being alone and unlovable that I picked living in fear and chaos. I chose that.

I cringe when people tell me I am brave or amazing for any of the shit I’ve done recently. It makes me want to scream. I used to think it was because I don’t feel like I did anything anyone else wouldn’t have done. But, I think the person who wants to scream is that version of me. The one I keep locked away.

She wants to scream,” She might seem strong and brave today. But, she can also be so weak and fearful and inert. Don’t let her fool you. I am in here, too!”

You know what? She’s right. That part is still there. And, I still love myself not only despite that but because of it. All it does is prove that I am hopelessly human. I have light and dark in me. I am capable of incredibly different reactions to situations.

More importantly, I am capable of choosing from a huge palette of responses to whatever life throws my way. And, this journey, the one I don’t ever want to opt-out of again feels better and better the more I feel like I have choice in how I respond to life.

I am starting to look forward to finding love again. Having my heart on the line. Sharing myself with someone who wants to reciprocate. Accepting risk in the pursuit of the kind of love all of me has wanted my whole life.

My promise to myself is to stay open AND steadfastly on my path with clear eyes, a courageous spirit, and grace for being a complex human being trying to do my best day by day!