Category: Independent Woman

Scent of a Man

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Independent Woman1 Comment

credit: tribune.com.pk –

She knew it was over when she couldn’t stand the smell of him. The pheromones that had once madly attracted her to him had dissipated. She wasn’t even sure when he turned from being a melliferous man into one who oozed a certain bitter brininess.

His odor permeated the bedroom-an overwhelming form of halitosis-especially in the morning. She remembers how it used to startle her awake. She would be lying close to him one minute and then quickly find refuge on the other side of the bed the next.

It wasn’t long before she arose earlier and earlier each day in an effort to escape the toxicity of him. The raunchiness remained even after he finally woke up and left the room. Then, while he was showering, she would pull down all the bed covers and throw open the windows in an effort to rid the room of his stench.

On the surface, he was a meticulously clean man. He dressed sharply and every hair was in place. But just beneath lay the sewage of his soul. Lately, it had been percolating, bubbling up. He created hazardous waste within their relationship and in their own home.

She knew that his habits were really a manifestation of his need for total control of his own environment at best and an overall inconsideration and disrespect for her at worst. Because he didn’t feel like hanging his jackets in the back hall (where it was cold in the winter), he would pile them up on a kitchen chair. He left his shoes right outside the living room where she or the children inevitably would trip on them.  “Watch where you’re going!”, he would say. He also had his special stack of magazines and papers on one of the living room end tables. She was not allowed to move them except if she dusted.

He seemed to have no problem sitting his ass on the couch while she ran around the house like a whirling dervish cooking dinner and cleaning after working all day either.  A meal and a clean house were par for the course. But she sure was getting tired of cleaning up the toothpaste scum off the bathroom sink’s soap dish. He refused to put his brush with the rest of the family’s. Instead, he would lay it down near the open tube, not caring if he left remnants of saliva or paste on the surface. And he never shut their closet door.  Just left it wide open for her to stub her toe or hit her head in the middle of the night when she got up to pee.

When she called even the slightest attention to any of these issues, he would raise holy hell. Start talking about her bad habits. Tell her, “If you don’t like it, there’s the door.”

She knew she was in a vicious cycle. She was weary and unloved. And she couldn’t stand him or his foulness any longer.  It was time to plan her exit.

“The only thing more unthinkable than leaving was staying; the only thing more impossible than staying was leaving. I didn’t want to destroy anything or anybody. I just wanted to slip quietly out the back door, without causing any fuss or consequences, and then not stop running until I reached Greenland.”
― Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love

Tainted*

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn abuse, Independent Woman, poetry, Recovery4 Comments

credit: psychopathyawareness.wordpress.com

Slimed by your words

Blemished by your presence

Soiled by your twisted truth

Diseased by your self-deception

Stigmatized by your need to cast blame

Infected by your manipulation and devaluation

 

You are a parasite that fed off me

Attempting to eat away at my strength

Sapping away at my emotional energy

Draining me

Sucking me dry

Wearing me out

 

My spirit was once corrupted but never broken

I have found another path

It led me to a healthful place

Where I could mend

Reenergize

Feed my spirit

Heal from your wounds

Be free from your disparagement

Today I walk hand in hand

With loving others

On a path of utter truth and righteousness

 Feeling, tasting, touching, smelling, hearing

And being present in a world

Cleansed by holy and faithful words

Of love and peace

*(Author’s note: I found this poem earlier tonight while looking for other material for a story that has been bouncing in my head. It was originally written on March 19, 2008. I have changed a few things-like verb tenses- leaving most of the piece in tact. It was nice to see that I had a poet in me back then and most importantly, to know that I was indeed a strong woman!)

Baggage Claim

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Independent Woman2 Comments

baggage claim

I have been draggin’ around your sensitive ego
Making sure that your bags arrive on time for the dog and pony show
A little suitcase like a brick,
It kinda makes it hard to get a good grip
I drop your troubles off at the conveyor belt,
I’ll hand you a ticket to go get it yourself

At the baggage claim, you got a lot of luggage in your name
When you hit the ground, check the lost and found
Cause it ain’t my problem now
I can’t carry it on, I’ve got a lot of troubles on my own
It’s all over the yard, in the trunk of the car,
I’m packin’ it in, so come and get it.                    ~ Miranda Lambert

For years, I did not realize that my life was a wreck. I was living a lie and was clueless about it. I spent most of my marriage working at keeping it together. Trying to make my man happy. In the process, I was losing myself. When he told me he wanted a divorce, I was of course, devastated.  But quickly, I realized that I did not miss him.  I took a look around the house and noticed that much of the stuff that took up space in my 1200 square foot home belonged to him.  Then I looked in my two car garage and realized the same thing. One more trip to the back of the garage and guess what? More crap! It was extremely difficult to move anywhere on my property without the constant reminders of him.

It took nearly two years and a court order from the time he left for him take away his items. Some things, I simply threw out. He refused to get rid of old lawn mowers and other large pieces so  they made their journey to the end of driveway. With each toss,  I felt more free and my house looked cleaner.  But it takes more than throwing away physical reminders of someone to really rid yourself of pain.

First, I had to admit that I was abused.  Verbal and emotional abuse is a challenge to see or to understand because words and psychological  mind games don’t leave obvious bruises.  Coming to grips with this fact was a huge hurdle that I had to overcome. How could I-an educated intelligent woman not notice or even allow it to happen? I needed to forgive myself first before I could even entertain the idea that I could forgive him.  I would say that peeling back these layers was excruciating. Therapy helps!

During this time (after the divorce was final), I fell in love with the man who is now my fiance’. Through him, I learned to trust and to also stand up for my needs without fear of  negative consequences.  I learned that I was a worthy, lovable woman. This was especially freeing.  I became more and more myself and our relationship grew closer and stronger.

Simultaneously, my former husband continued to act out. He refused to comply with the agreement in any way.  I spent the better part of 4 years  and a significant amount of money advocating for my son’s college education and assuring that both my sons had shelter- among other things.  With each battle, I became less and less emotionally involved. I was beginning to be less of a victim and more of a leader of my own life.  For the most part, it worked. I knew I was doing the right thing for my boys as well as myself.

My oldest is set to graduate from college in a month. My ties to my former husband will continue to be severed. On Easter weekend, I took four boxes of my former life ( all the divorce papers that are no longer needed) to the bonfire. Slowly, each piece was set aflame and turned into ashes. It took longer than expected to burn it all up. In my mind, I knew that it was the way it was supposed to be. Years of pain can take a long time to unfold and transform into something beautiful.

*Special thanks to Kellie Elmore for the inspiration for today’s entry http://kellieelmore.com/2013/04/19/fwf-free-write-friday-baggage-claim/

Upstairs, Downstairs

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Independent WomanLeave a comment
037
The ache for home lives in all of us,
the safe place where we can go
as we are and not be questioned.

– Maya Angelou

This week was a little up ended due to another home renovation project that required me to be out of the house for 3 nights. When polyurethane  staining is done on the floors, evacuation is necessary! I  was lucky enough to stay at my friend Emily’s house right here in town. Emily’s is the place to go when the power goes out (they have a generator) or if you are in need of a good meal. She and her husband are outrageous cooks and one is guaranteed to eat something that is always unique and delicious.

Although we live just minutes from each other, her neighborhood is somewhat different from mine. She lives in the town’s center with lots of sidewalks, the town green (complete with bandstand) and with shops-including Starbucks- within walking distance. The houses, like mine, are older. But unlike mine,  they are closer together.  Her home is warm and welcoming and a reflection of her family. In fact, as a guest, you immediately find yourself immersed in the comfort of their abode.  I was blessed with a space of my own, a comfortable pullout couch (seriously!) and a full bath in the basement.

For those of you who follow me, you may remember my reflection on home renovations from August (Renovation, Reclamation, Rebirth), where I talked of the significance of my first independent home improvement project.  (And if you haven’t read it, check it out! It may help you understand this particular musing!)  Anyway, this recent project involved more than just staining hardwood floors.  My staircase leading to the second floor of my home was finally repaired, redone and realigned after a decade of being incomplete.

Like many projects, my former husband began the renovation with excitement and enthusiasm only to quickly lose interest to other repairs or distractions that seemed more exciting. His lack of commitment to the project became a metaphor for the deterioration of our relationship.  For years, the stairs became the reason I was ashamed to have people over to the house and I even hesitated to open the front door because I was so embarrassed by its appearance. For the first part of their childhood, the boys always hung their Christmas stockings from the ballisters. But when the area under went its destruction, we could no longer uphold that tradition. Instead, they laid them on the open stairs and every Christmas Eve I hoped that the goodies wouldn’t fall through the open parts and be lost.

Until very recently, I did not have the financial means to undertake such an extensive repair. But I am blessed to have a contractor who not only understands my situation but has the respect and professional ethics to get the job done. He knows that the repair was not only a safety issue but a spiritual and healing one as well. To say that he attended to every detail would be an understatement.  When problems arose (as they always do with home repair), he called in a finish carpenter to help. He also discovered that all the bedroom door frames were askew and that the beautiful red oak wood was cracked and dried out from years of not being finished. As the project got underway, each day became a celebration for the three of us as we watched the heart of our home become more whole.

For years I was envious of other people’s homes. As time went on, it became clearer and clearer to me that the attention to their houses was an example of stability, security and a sense of “home” for their families. They had pride of place. It was a promise that they made to their loved ones. I knew then and I know now that the three of us lacked that fundamental commitment from my husband and their father. Imagine my twenty year old being excited that his bedroom door could finally fully close and that he has a threshold for it as well. Imagine my twenty-two year old coming home today to see the finished wood flooring and say that he is just beginning to “process” it. Like I said to both of them: “Welcome to Normal.”

I am excited to begin the next step towards completing the rebirth of my home. Within a month we will start painting the living and study area walls and ceiling. We will continue with the new color scheme throughout the front hall, stair risers all the way to the second floor. The carpet in the former areas will be ripped out to reveal beautiful maple wood floors. The big oak desk that I needed for graduate school will be donated, creating more space for us.

This home repair has definitely filled me with a sense of pride. I am glad that I can show my sons a concrete example of what it means to create a healthy loving space for friends and family (just like Emily).  I am thrilled that I created this legacy for them. I am certain that they will pass it on.

We shape our dwellings,
and afterwards, our dwellings shape us.

– Winston Churchill

Life in Ordinary Time

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Independent Woman5 Comments

Whenyouliveinthemoment

Beware the barrenness of a busy life.  ~Socrates

Lately I feel especially squeezed for time. I am no different from anyone else but this time rut has me feeling stressed, resentful, fatigued and overwhelmed. My job as a literacy specialist is always, always overly busy.  Teaching is easy; it is the vast amounts of paperwork, scholarly articles that need to be read, data to track, lessons to plan, committee obligations and assessments to complete that are killing me! It is a fact that I will never catch up. I work at maintaining a balance between my personal and professional life. Most days I stay very late in order not to bring my job home. And yet, the demands of work lately have outweighed the demands of home.  Of course, it helps that my children are young adults. Still, my personal life is not only busy and fulfilling but extremely important to me. I want to spend the weekend with my fiance’ without thinking or feeling guilty about the work that I have to do.

I often wonder, though, is my generation somewhat responsible for the way we are living today?  I became a young woman in the era of  “You Can Have It All.”  Some of us bought into the myth that work, marriage, a healthy sex life, kids and maintaining our youthful looks were easily mastered. Then reality bit us in the behind!  Today there is the idea and very real fact that two incomes are necessary in order to make ends meet. But let’s get even more real: for all working class people two incomes have always been necessary to feed their families, pay bills and keep a roof over their heads. For generations, men worked two jobs (my father being one of them) or women worked a second shift in order to be home with the kids. Moreover, many families today simply cannot afford to pay for day care. At best, some break even. In fact, just a few days ago,  I ran into a complete stranger who was lamenting this very thing. Her husband is a firefighter and she works as a school counselor. They are parents to a 1 and a 4 year old. Her income goes to child care but if she doesn’t work she will lose her certification. It was quite obvious that she was in a serious dilemma: stay at her job in order not to start all over again in a few years and throw away income or stay home with the kids to save money.

And another reality for most women is that they still bear the brunt of domestic chores, grocery shopping, meal preparation and child care logistics. I know! I know!  There are a great many men who are equitable and respectful partners. But I am well aware of friends of mine who, if they don’t hire a cleaning company or have groceries delivered, are cleaning their houses at midnight. There are few of us who have high-powered, high income careers that allow for a nanny, cook and cleaning services AND flexibility- which would free us up for time with family and friends without emptying our wallets.

I was able to stay at home for ten years with my sons.  The time spent with them helped me to appreciate the simple moments in life and laid the foundation for lasting memories with them. In some ways it was a challenge to fight the new cultural norm of going back to work. But this was not what I wanted for my sons. Sure, many kids they knew were plied with material things and bigger houses and lavish vacations. But what these kids did not get was sustained attention from their parents.  How many parents do you see today walking with their kid holding onto one hand and the cell phone in the other? And believe me, they are not conversing with their child! How many vehicles today are equipped with a dvd player? How many kids when asked what they did after school or over the weekend will say: ” I played on my Wii.” Fresh air and getting dirty are at best rare occurrences and at worst foreign concepts to lots of children.

I am in no way advocating for a return to the kitchen for women.  I am too much of a feminist and a realist for that. But I do wonder in this quest for material gain that we have stolen childhood from our children. Kids no longer play but have “play dates” . (This concept still cracks me up-when I first heard it, it sounded mismatched-playing on a date?).  They have scheduled, organized activities many times per week and over the weekend.  How can our children have the time to discover who they are and their life’s passion(s) if we don’t allow them to just be and be God forbid-bored?

As I write this, I still have loads of work ahead of me for the week. Somehow I will make the penguin steps necessary to get things done. If  I chose work over family and fiance’, however,  I would have missed out on much more. My man and I enjoyed a snowstorm, a long run in its slushy aftermath, a few delicious meals and much-needed private conversation. Sunday dinner with my sons and their girlfriends was relaxing and rambunctious. My youngest son is assuming the role of cook ( he got cookbooks for his birthday) and is seriously committed to making a good meal.  I love being a tutor for him in the kitchen!  These are the things that sustain all of us. Live simply and extraordinary things can happen.

Each day, awakening, are we asked to paint the sky blue? Need we coax the sun to rise or flowers to bloom? Need we teach birds to sing, or children to laugh, or lovers to kiss? No, though we think the world imperfect, it surrounds us each day with its perfections. We are asked only to appreciate them, and to show appreciation by living in peaceful harmony amidst them. The Creator does not ask that we create a perfect world; He asks that we celebrate it.  ~Robert Brault

Seismic Shifts and Cosmic Changes

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Independent Woman4 Comments

images

“Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don’t resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like.”
― Lao Tzu

Sometimes I am often in awe of the changes that have happened in my life in the past six years. The tumult, turmoil and triumph have been terrifying and tremendous transitions. But why be reflective of the changes? Why not be consciously aware of the transformations as we move forward in our lives?

When changes are traumatic and dramatic, it is difficult to embrace the idea that your life will be different. And in reality, when hard times knock on your door, you just want to get them over with!  The good news is that major life changes-whether good or bad- don’t happen everyday-thank goodness!

Change happens constantly and most of the time we don’t notice it because it is so subtle.  Perhaps this is one of the reasons I love to run so much. My early morning routine has allowed me to notice even the smallest of things. Winter running tests your dedication-it is mostly dark and very cold and often icy. But if you move through the short period of blackness, you begin to notice the shift from dark to dawn.  One of my favorite times is when both the sun and moon hang opposite of each other in the sky.   For me, it is a sign that living a life of balance can help provide awareness of  the beauty of each day. I also think that I have greater tenacity when my ying and yang can hang together nicely.

Back in October, I wrote about transitions and the conflict  (within ourselves and between loved ones) that can sometimes arise during these times. I wonder, though, if the conflict comes about because of either a lack of communication or because of  a lack of being cognizant of the changes taking place in our lives?  Or does it show up because we don’t always control the change? Or is it all three?

I am blessed with deep friendships and loving family connections and it is through these relationships that I have come to understand that all of us are undergoing realignments in our lives.  And let’s just throw out the old cliche’ of  “mid-life crisis” as THE major life change while we are at it. My soul sister is journeying through a small multitude of refinements in her life that include navigating through her daughter’s teenage years, seeing her oldest off to college, pondering a possible change in her long time nursing career and- most recently- preparing to say goodbye to the family’s beloved dog. A long time friend and her family (who lived here all of their lives) just moved two cities away. The move is no doubt a positive moment in their life. She finally feels at home. But it is also strange. She said to me: “For so long I turned left; now I have to turn right.”

Sometimes it is hard to watch our own parents make changes in their lives as well. I had a wonderful conversation with my seventy-seven year old father this morning. It was enlightening to listen to him as he related some of the shifts he is making in his own life. I think for some of us (including myself) it is hard to imagine that our older parents would develop new relationships or lessen their involvement in life-long interests in order to pursue new things. We want them to stay the same because that is all we have known our whole life.

I suppose the same holds true for my sons. I will be getting married and moving away within the next two years. For them, mom has been the sturdy rock in their lives. This house is their “base camp.” So it is a little freaky that I will not be here most of the time! But we are working our way through this change together.  The timing is good for their ages.  It helps that they live more in the real adult world where they can practice independence.  And the goals that  they have are ones that will have them feeling safe and secure upon my departure. I have seen my sons mature more in the last six months than I have in a long while.  This is a good sign.

As for me, I am both anxious and excited during this time. It will not be easy to leave an area that I have known all my life- a place where I have embedded community connections and relationships. But a huge part of my life is now elsewhere awaiting its next phase. I am ready to embrace it!  In the meantime, I can honestly say that I am enjoying the journey to my next destination thanks to the loving support of my fiance’,  my family and  my friends.

A Cheerful Countenance

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Independent Woman, Uncategorized2 Comments

3975269-winter-landscape-winter-scene

Have respect for yourself, and patience and compassion. With these, you can handle anything.

This morning I woke up to the light. Normally, of course, my day starts off in darkness; I like to get my run in before work and visit my morning buddies as well. But today is Sunday and rainy with a forecast of more snow later today. The birds are out, looking for the small morsels of food on the surface of the melting snow. Perhaps spring is near? My hope is that my run will not be disrupted by the seasonal hazard of black ice-such a drag for dedicated runners like myself!

The past week ended with a celebration. My youngest son turns 20 in a few days so we had a surprise birthday party for him last night.  The gathering was not large-just enough friends and family not to make it overwhelming for him.  For me, the night was the perfect metaphor for our present life. Laughter, love and the feeling that we were all at “home”.  As the party was winding down, I went upstairs to retrieve the coats for two of the guests. The sounds of boisterous conversation filled the house and my heart- a needed reminder that my life is beyond good.

Everyday I say the I am grateful and lucky. But there are times when I am utterly human-challenged by the things that I want more of in my life-money, time with my fiance’, etc. There are things that I want less of as well- the responsibilities of  home ownership (I know there’s a dead mouse somewhere in my basement-the stench is horrible!), less worries about the boys’ independent financial future and mine as well. And dealing with anything from my past can at times leave me with an emotional hangover.  I am sure that I could go on, but really, not one of us escapes life’s woes, worries, or trials.

The difference is simple. How we react, respond or move through conflict and challenge makes a huge difference in how life can treat us. And yes it is all about karma. I shared a meal with a friend of mine last week. We have recently gotten to know one another and he seemed surprised if not curious about my three recent stories regarding the abuse and other personal struggles that I had experienced. He has observed me consistently being cheerful and upbeat and wondered, is it real?

The winter climate makes for a contemplative season. I try to embrace it without examining my navel too much. I try  to allow for the clearing of my perceptive lenses during this season while I anxiously await the coming of spring.  In his recent blog post, “How about a Short Sermon?”, Rob Bell speaks of the difference between analysis and awareness  as he takes a second look at Psalm 118: “This is the Day that God has made.” He writes of how easy it is to become cynical about the war, poverty, divorce, addiction and betrayal that surrounds daily. He wonders,  Really, God made this? For him and for me it is not about getting stuck in the muck of life nor is it about “glossing over”  its horrors. It is about the awareness that yes it is ” rough and bloody and heartbreaking” but it is also full of beautiful potential and possibility.

February has been the month that has forced me to get down and dirty with both my present and my past and I suppose my future as well.  The process is both difficult and healthy. I had not realized that for some period in my life that corruption and abuse had become normal. Talk about glossing over! We cannot allow ourselves or anyone we care about to be maligned by others who believe that they have power and control over us. They are at ease with twisting the truth in order to not face the truth about themselves. Some of them are beyond redemption.

So what am I aware of?  That we don’t have to stay stuck.  That we have to consistently outsmart the corrupting influences in our lives. That life and love can begin anew. And is my cheerful disposition for real? Yes!

When you are immune to the opinions and actions of others, you won’t be the victim of needless suffering.

Everyday Love

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Independent WomanLeave a comment

loverelationships

Oh, the comfort – the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person – having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all right out, just as they are, chaff and grain together; certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then with the breath of kindness blow the rest away.

Dinah Craik, A Life for a Life, 1859

I am glad that Valentine’s Day is over! Don’t get me wrong, I am by nature a hopeless romantic. But I find that our culture celebrates a false notion of love on this particular day. Is love really about jewelry, fancy restaurants, flowers, or the most expensive Hallmark card? Like I said to my fiance’, ” I don’t need this one day for you to show your love for me.”  Moreover, it can make those individuals who are not part of a couple feel left out and even unworthy of love.

I do not believe that love can actually be defined; it is too big of an idea and feeling to be boxed in by a metaphorical dictionary. But I would like to get down to the nitty-gritty of what love really is and its importance in our routine, sometimes mundane lives. During the blizzard last week, I came across the well-known I Corinthians passage:  Love is patient, love is kind, etc.  This is recited ad nauseum at weddings and as a result (at least for me) it has lost its sincerity.  Perhaps if more of us were actually paying attention and practicing its message, we would have more long-lasting and healthy relationships with our partners, friends and family.

I first learned the power and fierceness of love when I became a mother. Children have a way of forcing you to get outside of yourself. My sons taught me the beauty of ordinary moments-holding hands, hugs, smiles and laughter. Reading books, playing games and just being together were enough for both them and me. They taught me patience (although it took a long time!). Each of my sons was born a unique individual-not a reflection of me or their father. They helped me to understand and accept them for who they are and not what our culture expects them to be as males. Through them, I learned that love is transcendental; I will never forget the look of love that my parents had  the moment they first met my sons. Love abides deep within all of us, no doubt.

I learned what love was not through their father. I Corinthians states: “Love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way.”  In healthy partnerships, there is always room for support, rejoicing in one another’s accomplishments, listening to each other’s concerns and always, always kindness. I heard one too many times: “If you don’t like it, there’s the door.” I thought that by loving him and providing him with two beautiful sons, it would be enough to ease his restless heart. But for him it was better to be irritable, resentful and to rejoice in wrongdoing.

The antithesis of abuse is love.  It is through my beloved that I rejoice in truth and true love. When we first started dating, my fiance’ said: “We can make this a vacation relationship or a normal relationship. I want to go to church with you, spend time with the boys and help you with things around the house. I want to meet your friends.” In essence, he wanted to be with me.

Everyday Love is what brings us peace. I am at once astounded and amazed by the positive energy that is brought through the simplest of acts of love. Just yesterday, as I was coming home from the movies, I noticed that two lights were left on for my arrival. My oldest left them on for me as he knew that I would be coming back in the dark. Today, his girlfriend shoveled in front of the garage so I could get things done in the house (writing this piece and baking brownies!). Everyday Love is what keeps us safe and secure. My youngest doesn’t need me to be Superwoman or to provide him with material things; he wants what was partly missing for him in the past four years. A present parent-one who listens, supports his endeavors and provides a soft place to land. As for me, I wanted a level of intimacy with a man that rose above the physical relationship ( not that I any qualms with that!). My fiance’ loves me unconditionally. He believes in me. He is humble in his generosity towards me and my sons. His Everyday Love is at once a nirvana, an oasis and one that never ends.

Somebody That I Used to Know*

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Independent Woman8 Comments

Today a new sun rises for me; everything lives, everything is animated, everything seems to speak to me of my passion, everything invites me to cherish it.

~ Anne De Lenclos

Last week’s post was a cathartic experience for me.  For too long, I had an inner itch that I could not scratch.  I welcome the relief!  What is truly amazing, however, is the positive results-both outward and inward-that my reflection brought to me.  Carol Burnett says: “Words, once they are printed, have a life of their own.”  I am hopeful, of course, that my words will help others who struggle with self- identity and loving themselves first.

In the short term, my life has taken on yet another layer of lightness. As we journey down life’s path, I believe it is important to peel back and let go of anything or anyone that has a negative affect on you. Say what you need to say, do what you need to do and keep on moving!

This week, two colleagues of mine shared some observations with me. One said, “I want you to take out some photos of yourself from years past up to the present so that you can see your transformation.”  She went on to say: “You have changed on a molecular level.” WHOA!! I guess I hadn’t noticed!  Still another said, “What is it that you are doing? You have a gleam and glow about you!” I attributed the latter compliment to my diet and exercise regimen and the fact that I am in a healthy relationship. I also love my job, my sons and all other aspects of my life-both big and small. But the former compliment comes from someplace else.

So I guess this is why writing last week’s post was so relevant. By writing about the person who is a link to my past, I have been able to come a little more forward about the trauma of  the emotional and verbal abuse that was at the root of my marriage. I am not ready to actually share all of the details about it; although many of my friends and family have known those bits for a long time. It actually took until my marriage was over to fully admit what had happened. Still worse, the boys have shared what they remember about their father- what he said to me and about me and how he treated me.

I had a bit of an epiphany earlier this week. It came as a result of some issues between my youngest son and his girlfriend. Luckily, they both  deeply care about one another-enough to work through some problems together and seek my advice as well. Unfortunately, some of the problems that both my sons have had with their father come into play in their relationships at times. They deal with it as best they can while at the same time  fear becoming like him. A tough place to be for sure!

But the situation between my son and his girlfriend got me thinking about the repetitive pattern that abuse can sometimes take if it is  not squelched from the beginning. And for me, this goes back to my experiences during my marriage. At its deepest level, abuse comes from a sense of abandonment. At some point in a potential abuser’s life, they have been left either physically and/ or emotionally bereft by a significant relationship. Over time, this can lead to a lack of trust in all relationships, but most especially when there is a significant other involved. Those who feel abandoned carry the pain of those past (and sometimes present) hurts with them. Often, it can also be a form of grief over a broken relationship. If not addressed, the pain can and will manifest itself in anger-almost always towards the one or ones you love but never at the person or people who hurt you in the first place. Worst still, the anger can lead to abuse-always towards the ones closest to you. If the abuse continues and professional help is not sought, the abuser becomes a permanently broken and damaged person.

And this is what almost happened to me. I was abused by my husband slowly and insidiously over the course of the marriage. Over time, I become an increasingly angry person who took out some of her pain on her children. I was an anxious and panic ridden woman who was nearly broken by my abuser. Thankfully, I got help before it was too late. As I began to stand up for myself and not project my hurt onto my sons any longer,  I began to advocate more for my own needs (and those of the boys). But the abuse got worse. He became increasingly silent, secretive and neglectful. As the three of us drew closer together, he grew further away from us. He was absent a lot-especially on weekends. And when he was home, he was never “present” and was very often angry upon his return from his weekend excursions.

So he decided to leave. The next 14 months were horrendous but I was stronger than I thought I was. I continued to get help as did my sons. Their dad continued to devolve and make poor decisions. My youngest son moved in with him. He needed to be with his father-in his mind if he lived with him he would not be left again. Over time, he got to know his father on his own terms. My oldest, on the other hand, tells me he figured out his father when he was fourteen- two years before he left! And now my youngest is back with me after enduring the same abusive situation as I once did.

And here is where we’ve landed. My youngest is struggling with the pain of a broken and hurtful relationship with his dad. He doesn’t like how he feels and wants to be better. So, he is getting help-Hooray!  His girlfriend is wonderful; she wants to go with him if he needs her. He knows that he is not a bad or even a broken person. He knows that he has a big heart and  wants more than anything to become a whole man.

You may ask yourself,  “What is this layer of  lightness that she is speaking of?”  Well, because of today’s blizzard, I was able to enjoy some very lovely extended time with my Starbucks friends. Per usual, the link to my past appeared ( she is my ex-husband’s current girlfriend) but  I was not at all bothered. Shortly thereafter, I noticed that she was speaking to a man-nothing unusual- and this man was with a young girl. It looked like they had come in from the bagel shop next door. Their conversation continued until they departed, passing my group as they exited.  Then it occurred to me-this man was my ex-husband! I had not recognized him at all!

I had just experienced a fantastic breakthrough. A feeling of complete emotional disconnect. Never in my life would I have ever thought that I would not recognize the father of my children-a person that I had been with for 22 years.  It was wonderfully uplifting, joyful and empowering. It means that I have come to a peaceful place with the pain of my abusive marriage. ( I want the same for my youngest son and hope that someday he can forgive his father).

The person I was when I was with him no longer exists. She is just somebody that I used to know.

* With thanks to Gotye!

On Being a Bold Woman

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Independent Woman20 Comments

Credit: interviewsaloud.comOne of the most courageous things you can do is identify yourself, know who you are, what you believe in and where you want to go. – Sheila Murray Bethel.

On a recent morning, I was enjoying my usual morning visit at my local Starbucks, chatting with the staff and the other regulars whom I see daily. The store has always been a positive community connection for me. I can honestly say that I have never met someone that I have not liked having a conversation with-even if it is just for five minutes.

Beginning last spring, however, a person with a link to my past began to frequent the establishment at the same time as me. I tried not to make too much of these “coincidences”, but I did feel forced to be on my guard. Lately, the frequency of this person’s appearances has increased and my sons have even  found themselves in uncomfortable and insinuating situations with this person in the recent past.  So needless to say, when this person was in close proximity to a conversation I was having last week, I was not pleased.

I want my morning experience at the store to be one of the highlights of my day. And I want to handle negative circumstances with grace. But I could not help but feel that this person was acting boldly. And I could help but think that her “boldness” had negative connotations attached to it.

Later, at work, I began to question my thoughts on this feeling. So, I asked my colleagues to tell me what they think being a bold woman means. Still later, I asked other women and men outside of work. Their responses helped me to rethink my own reaction to my experience. More importantly, they helped me to redefine and refine the other person’s actions more appropriately.

So here goes (with credit to Jen, Jeff, Pam, Art, Gretchen and Pat and any others I may have forgotten):

A bold woman is authentic and committed to her own personal values. She stays true to who she is. A bold woman is loaded with courage, understands the risks at hand but still takes a leap of faith. A bold woman never settles; she keeps moving forward even when it is not popular. She is daring in the face of cultural limits, expectations and conventions. A bold woman is a person with only the highest of confidences and a will strong enough to defeat any obstacle or achieve any ambition. A bold woman does not apologize unnecessarily and isn’t afraid to be called a bitch. ( How many times have you done the former and been afraid to be the latter?). She stands firmly in her beliefs with an unwavering heart.

A bold woman is confident in her own skin. A bold woman inspires others to be awesome. A bold woman knows her strengths and weaknesses, but chooses to be the best she can be at all times. A bold woman speaks up for what she believes in. A bold woman will not let others control her fate nor her emotions. A bold woman is proud of herself. A bold woman does not make excuses. She takes responsibility and makes a plan to be better every day. A bold woman inspires, not just with her words but with her actions as well. You can feel a bold woman’s energy from across the room; a bold woman knows the power of silence. But, in the face of a challenge, a bold woman says: “Bring it on!” A bold woman is not offensive, rude, or condescending. She inspires others to be the best they can be.

I allowed myself to fall victim to a false cultural perception of what it means to be a bold woman. I am a big believer in the hidden messages or lessons that can come from challenging encounters, situations, or people.  The recent spate of “accidental circumstances” have shown me that this person is far from being bold.  You can draw your own conclusions regarding her character traits. However, I am grateful that she helped remind me of what a bold woman really is. AND she called attention to the fact that I AM A BOLD WOMAN.  For me it is all that truly matters.

“I’m my own sovereign nation, dedicated to a transformation…”

from “It’s Alright” by Dar Williams