As someone who prides herself on emotional control the last
three weeks have been really hard for me. There has been a constant battle
between my strong mind and my fragile heart. If I’m being honest I have suffered
from what I call “leaky eye” a lot. Leaky eye is my affectionate way of
describing sudden onset crying that has no real basis. I’m not even sad! WHY AM I CRYING?? In the last three weeks I have probably cried
more than I have in years. I have also
lost my mind a few times and I am so grateful that the people I love are still
standing. Three weeks ago one of my dear
friends came to me and said, “I feel like I need to tell you that it is okay not
be okay all the time”. In that moment I
was like, oh I know, but I am okay all the time, so it’s all good. Little did I know the following 15 days would
be spent reminding myself that it actually is okay not be okay all the time.
August 23rd marked one year since Rob and I separated
and filed for divorce. It’s been an
incredible 365 days. I have grown in ways that I never thought possible. I have faced emotional fears. I have challenged
wrong patterns of thinking, and despite every fiber in my body screaming, “don’t
you dare”, I have trusted people more than I ever have (not a lot of people but
a few). The result is that 97.3% of those days have been beautiful, and 100% of
those days have been spent in peace regardless of any extenuating circumstances.
I still have no doubts that we did the
right thing, and that through this “terrible” thing we did, we created a healthier,
more stable, environment for Cam and Colbs.
After all that you can understand why I found the sadness
and anger of the last few weeks so perplexing. Why all the sudden am I so
upset? Why am I a wreck? Why are my eyes
so leaky? Then it hit me. I had fought for the last five years of my marriage and tried to make
everything okay. I wanted nothing more than to be one of those couples that
walked away “victorious” simply for the bragging rights. I wasn’t mourning the loss of my marriage. I
was mourning my loss, my pride, my inability to fix something. I was angry, because
I felt like I wasn’t good enough to make it work. That’s actually a lie. I am
enough, and more than that I have to forgive myself for not being
able to fix something that I had no control over in the first place. There is no shame in fighting for something and winning the victory differently than you had pictured.
After hearing me talk about how I felt, another one of my
dear friends (more like a mom) said to me, “I’m so glad you feel this way. Even
though what you did was right, you still have to grieve, and doing it now just
means you will be healthier later.” Another confirmation that it was okay not be
okay. There is a certain comfort in knowing that I don’t have to be strong all
the time and that I don’t have to have it all worked out. Being sad that my
marriage of 10 years and relationship of 17 is over, and has been for over a
year, doesn’t mean I want it back. It doesn’t mean ending it was wrong. It
means I have felt enough pain in the last decade to last a lifetime and that pain isn't going to go away overnight. Yes it's better, and yes most days I really am fine, and yes I am going to keep working through forgiveness everyday. However, that pain is going to creep up at unexpected times and possibly be unleashed on unsuspecting
people. There are going to be days that the overwhelming grief of the life that
is gone will be there, but there is also going to be the realization that what
is coming is far better than what lies behind.
So here’s to the days that I fall apart but refuse to set up
camp and live in the sorrow. Here’s to the people who are okay with that and
support me through it. It’s those people that have shown me not everyone is the same and that some people are worth the
risk of trusting. Here’s to the future. Here’s to Tyler Knott Gregson who said,
“I may fall apart, but I will never lose the pieces. I will always see the
picture that they create, and my hands bloody, cracked, trembling, and tired,
will never stop fumbling to put them back together”.