A Year of Change

From snowboarding to scones to fondue and cheesecake it was a weekend of food and memories. I had the pleasure of spending the weekend celebrating a milestone birthday with my guy. We hit the indoor slopes on Friday to snowboard, enjoyed dinners with parents on different nights, family bonding, and plenty of time just as us. I spoiled him with a few of his favorite foods, and he enjoyed, and is still enjoying, discovering penguins hidden throughout his house. Presents were opened and to quote him "It was a perfect weekend."

It was quite the contrast to where we were 1 year ago. A year ago we had just broken up, as our relationship was simply too much for both of us. I was in denial that it was too much, but in truth the traumas that we had both experienced over the past 6+ months were impacting us, and impacting the relationship that we were building. There was a mutual respect for each other and an agreement to stay in touch. We both knew that the other was a person that we still wanted in our life, yet something had to change. His genuine heart, unique perspectives, and ability to make me laugh were not things that I wanted to lose. Even though I did not want to lose contact with him I knew that space was needed for both of us. I needed to grieve this change, find my footing, and more forward in healthy ways. It provided me the opportunity for growth and clarity, demonstrating that I did not collapse, my world did not collapse, when something unexpected occurred.

These lessons came after the spring of 2023 where everything burned and my world appeared to be no more. Only 6 months later arrived the ending of something special, and I found myself sad, upset, and yet still standing with strength I did not have prior. I also had hope. I had hope for the continued friendship of us. While our contact was extremely minimal at first it grew slowly and tentatively. We had to navigate being only friends while still processing our previous traumas and growing into our own. As the time progressed there was still a hesitancy, but glimmers of our connection appeared. And when I opened the discussion of snowboarding the barriers began to fall faster. 

He helped me navigate and plan to take my crew snowboarding for the first time. His generous nature shining through and overwhelming at every turn and text. With a common goal we found ourselves in more frequent communication and our friendship growing. There were some challenging moments, but with the pressure of an intimate relationship removed the communication was easier. Laughter came frequently and the night we went to dinner as friends is one that I like to revisit in my head. While there were a few moments that challenged me the hours we spent chatting and laughing reminded me so much of our previous dates that I was extremely happy to have him back in my life. It was these moments and the ones following that strengthened our friendship and carried us through the holidays of 2023.

Two and half months following our break-up we found ourselves starting again. It was unexpected, and yet it felt right. Slowly we have found our way, and this was a capstone weekend for us. It was a year of change, a year of growth, and a year of falling in love with ourselves and each other.

      

Ashes to Ashes

 A little over 2 months ago my life imploded and crumbled to dust. It was the darkest period of my life, even more dark than periods leading up to my divorce and early post divorce. Anxiety and depression assaulted me daily and I began a course of medications to find some balance. The side-effects of the medications became as much of a problem as the anxiety and depression, and it was one more battle I had to try to find the energy to fight and manage. But this story is not about the medications and effects, this story is about the creation of the ashes of my life.

I had a plan.

I had a plan to move to Bend, Oregon and raise my children in a town that better meets our needs and lifestyle. A town where I feel at home, safe, protected, and at peace. A town that values the outdoors, being active and community and connection. A town that strives to care for its own, and while it is not perfect it is trying, more than I see in so many other communities. I had a job in Bend, I had my non-profit in Bend, my best friend in Bend, and a growing community of friends through my job. I had a plan to move there and continue to grow the non-profit and eventually transition to working that full-time as a paid employee and likely a small job on the side to supplement income as needed. I had a plan to create a lifestyle that supported my physical and mental health in ways that are extremely challenging living in my current community. I had a plan.

Having primary custody of my 4 children does not give me the right to just move them across the country, I had to come to an agreement with their father to move them. In brief he was not agreeable to them moving, thus began a year long legal battle for relocation. On April 20th, the day before my birthday, we all attended court, the children spoke to the judge alone and expressed their opinions which were relayed back to me via my attorney. I found myself in the very real and very painful position of continuing my quest for relocation and likely being denied relocation and primary custody of my children, the only option that was guaranteed was to rescind the relocation request and have the battle for change in custody follow due process through the courts. In 10 minutes I was forced to make a decision: fight for my move and potentially win or potentially lose everything, or give up relocation and keep custody until it could proceed through the court. My heart was breaking, I sat in the courtroom hallway fighting back tears, breathing, shaking, trying to find the decision that met my needs and the needs of my children. This move was for me and for them, and I knew that if we moved it would be incredibly challenging for them, I knew that it would strain our relationship, but I also knew that given time and space to heal and move through it we would do well in the end. Having grown up moving I know the resiliency of children and moving, but also the trauma of it. I sat in the hallway battling in myself, the clock ticking, my heart racing and breaking all at once, torn, watching my world finishing burning into ashes. The last important component of my life fuse lit and burning out. I made the decision to pull my relocation request, I simply couldn't take the risk of not moving and losing primary custody. It would break me further than I was already broken at that point.

Earlier in the month of April I lost my best friend. My best friend of the past 3 years simply decided to stop speaking to me, stop being there for me, stop answering calls, texts, anything. Having been as close as we were and having supported them through so many trials and challenges it was killing me to have lost them, lost their support when I needed it most. I needed that person that simply understood me and grasped that this was more than "just a move." They knew what this meant to me, and understood how deeply important to me it was, and I was abandoned by them without explanation. A fight had been had 2 months previous that had not been resolved, but I had been hoping that we were going to move forward as we had in the past. Every other fight, disagreement, and confrontation we had had over the 3 years we worked through, and we always told each other we worked through it because we cared about each other. I still cared about my best friend and I wanted to work through it, but I also desperately needed that support from them. Support that I had received previously, and I could not, and still cannot understand, why it was withheld. Why, when I needed them the most they abandoned me? Left me, ignored me, triggering so many of my trauma responses I swirled and spiraled more. Court loomed closer, there were challenges with the children and court, my birthday loomed, and the person that I had been closest to for 3 years was missing by their choice. My heart broke, my soul adrift, and I began to crumble, to implode, unable to bear anything more, fire burning throughout.

I struggled to sleep, I struggled to eat. I struggled to get out of bed and get to work at the desk next to my bed. I did it though. I got up slowly, I struggled to focus on my tasks, taking double and triple the time to complete tasks as April wore on with the loss of my best friend and court approaching. With the loss of my best friend also came my resignation from my non-profit. The non-profit that I helped create; the organization that I built from the ground up; from the logo and community and website, that was driven primarily by my effort. It was a passion project, one that I poured my heart and soul into. I was proud of the work I did, it brought me much joy and it was such an honor to be a part of it. Yet the organization was changing and the leadership and I were in conflict and I could no longer stay with an organization that did not value my opinion, my work, my time, and did not appear to believe in open and honest communication anymore. The non-profit was the one thing that I still had hopes of, the one thing that was going to be my light in this time of extreme darkness, and it went away. With the loss of my best friend and my non-profit I crumbled, but had little time to grieve those losses. Medication was not working, therapy was still in place and yet it was still not enough. I was unbearably sad, yet also so numb to everything. My body and mind unable to process anymore hurt. Food was a chore, everything was a challenge, from a simple shower to making dinner. I persevered, the kids were fed, chores completed, and life moved on. I was not ok, yet there was no time, no space to fall apart.

I sat in that courtroom hallway with only a small fuse of life left, having burned away so much with the other losses, and now it burned away my job and my move and my future. Ashes, dust, nothing left, no pieces to make a puzzle. No strength. I am not a phoenix to rise from the ashes. I am a woman, nothing more. One who was incredibly broken, not ok, and yet still asked to carry on, to move forward. To grieve quickly and briefly because it's "only a move" "only a job", yet it was never just those things. It was a lifestyle, a safe place, a peaceful place, and a place that provided comfort in the pine tar and smoke tinged air with the snow capped mountains surrounding the town and the river carrying the heartbeat of the mountains within it. It was gone. My chance removed of my own accord. The sacrifice I made for my children that I did not want to make. I made it because of my deep love of them, but this was one that broke me. In a month I lost my future, my best friend, my safe place, my organization, and so much more. It's challenging to put into words all that was lost. 

I have not grieved it all. It seems impossible at times to grieve it all. Where do you start? How do you portion it out? How do you find the time and space and safety to become vulnerable when you are already dust? How do you share this with the world?

Two months later and I still struggle to find the words, to grieve it. Tears come at times, life is moving forward and there have been some incredible moments over the past 2 weeks and amazing people coming into my life, but I know I have more grieving and healing to do. I do not have a path forward, I do not know where I will be in a few weeks, a few months, much less a few years. It's ok not to have those answers, but there is so much instability that I drift. I am thankful for the people that have become anchors, and the new ones that are supporting me with open hearts and empathy. What a challenging time to come into my life, and yet as has happened before people have arrived in my life at challenging points and made such lasting impacts that I have a small amount of hope blooming again.

There have been more smiles and laugher in my life these past 2 weeks than there have in the past 2 months, for which I am thankful. I see and feel parts of me that seemed to have been lost forever. It is not a return of those parts, but an emergence of new. I do not have a path, I do not have a plan, but I find more moments of strength and courage. In this I can take some comfort, and in knowing that anchors are there for me.

Tomorrow begins the start of the next chapter. Tomorrow their dad begins his battle for joint custody and I have to find the strength, courage, and energy to fight for what I believe is best for my children. What is best for me as well. I am scared, I am terrified, I am exhausted, I am sad. Knowing I have a handful of people supporting me is giving me the strength to proceed and I will. 

As I have said so many times before reach out to your friends, to your family. So much of this story has been withheld, and maybe I will write more on it one-day, but without those people texting me in April, giving me hugs, and calling me I would not be where I am today. Without all of you being there despite me not reaching out or reaching out right before I would have fallen further. My heart has gratitude for all of you for being there, even when I told you I was alone, and you told me I wasn't. Thank you for letting me disagree with you and have the space to move through some of this grief safely. 

Turning 43 in the middle of all of this was not what I wanted, not what I envisioned and again I find myself with trauma on and around my birthday. Six years ago I knew my marriage could not be saved on the weekend of my birthday, a turning point in my life, and here I am with a no plan again coming off of a birthday. I love plans, yet at this point I can do no more than walk through each day, each moment, each breath and let things unfold.

Peace, I pray for peace.

Gratitude

I was asked earlier this week to identify how I want to be thanked, acknowledged, recognized. How would I best like gratitude expressed to me? I stumbled in my response, this wasn't the usual survey that you complete at work that has basic options such as do you want to be publicly recognized, no public recognition, would you like a specific candy treat, etc that I have completed before. This was a genuine question and concern to acknowledge me and my contributions in a way that would be most comfortable and address my needs. Again, I stumbled. Maybe you know right off the bat, but I certainly didn't and promised that I would think and reflect.

It's uncomfortable to sit and think about this. Why? It's not that I don't believe that I am not worthy of the praise, nor that I don't deserve it. It's partially that I am not used to that type of recognition. Those of you who were around in the early years of this blog, following the journey to the PhD there was very little praise, it was a lot of criticism, not always constructive either. Those years certainly left a mark on me, as well as my marriage. It is a different feeling to be acknowledged for being yourself. The contributions I am making are certainly worth being recognized and gratitude expressed, though what I am doing is such a core part of me that at times it seems silly to "thank me" for doing what comes naturally. Though, I know from past experience that if I am not recognized it can lead to frustration, anger, resentment, and a lot of hurt feelings and misery on my end. So, I have to sit with my discomfort and find what is going to be the most accepting to balance my need to be recognized and seen and not be placed on a pedestal.

Two things that are always important to me are words and actions. It is through these that I feel the most loved, appreciated and seen. When you examine gratitude it is a form of love, so it only makes sense to tie back to what makes you feel loved. I want to hear it out loud, see it written and know that it comes genuinely from your heart.  Private notes, letters, texts, emails are wonderful ways to express this to me, as well as some recognition on a public level. The publicity is less important, as the critical component is the genuineness of the words. In taking the time and effort to acknowledge me in these ways you are also performing an action. Words are critical and crucial to me; though actions are also important. Tying this need into an expression of gratitude and recognition is challenging. I think for these purposes it means follow through, the completion of the desired action. Action isn't the same as gifts. While I enjoy receiving flowers, I appreciate the gesture as much as I appreciate the flowers themselves. Action is taking your time to do something for me, whether that is cooking for me, teaching me a new skill, or even sending me a song, poem, or book I might enjoy.

Through all of this the themes that emerge are connection and genuineness. The expression of recognition should be genuine, personal and written both privately and publicly. Expanding on that gratitude can be expressed through actions that reflect our connection. These may appear to be simple to many, but there is such beauty in the simplicity. I am not one for complexities in areas that do not require. As a woman with a complex, intricately chaotic life, the simplicity of my desires are a reflection of my core self. The external chaos requires a counterbalance of simplicity and connection. I desire to be seen, acknowledged, and recognized for my core being.

Advice and affection

My friends can I give you some well meaning advice, since so many of you feel the need to give it to me......

Please stop telling me to go enjoy myself or do something fun on the nights and weekends I don't have my kids. I get it, and in fact I remember those days and looking at the single parents thinking it looks amazing that you get an entire weekend to do what YOU want. What you don't see is the crushing loneliness and emptiness and quietness of your home. You don't hear how much more silent your home is at night when they're not home sleeping in the rooms around you. You tell me to go have fun and enjoy myself, but then I come home to an empty lonely house. You, my friends with your partner would come home with someone and have someone to enjoy your time with- I do not. Ten months later and it still stings.

Personally, I am still learning to balance my nights and weekends that are kid free. It's a delicate process of making sure I have personal relaxation time, get my chores done and be able to sleep without anxiety and loneliness. So please, it's not a vacation for me, but a fact of my life and inherent reminder that I am no longer part of a 2 parent household that is filled with continuous crazy weekends.  Some weekends and nights it is easier than others, and it is always easier when I know that there is someone that I can talk to (or message with) so I don't feel so lonely. The first few months were the worst on the weekends. I filled them with so many chores and work that by Sunday evening I was beat and all I wanted to do was crash. Over 10 months into this routine and I am slowly learning to manage things. A few weekends ago I had a great balance of a personal day and a chore day, and I was lucky enough to have a friend pretty much on speed text when I needed to connect with someone, but that balance doesn't happen often enough.

This brings me to my next piece of advice: affection. Hug your single parent friends (assuming they're the hugging type). Seriously. I love my children to pieces and I cherish my hugs and affection from them. But there is a significant lack of physical affection in our lives now as single parents, and for some of us this is our love language. For me personally it's my 2nd major love language (if you're confused go take this quiz). It's like living in a desert sometimes, no one hugs or touches in this society and you feel like at outcast at times. Not only are you not receiving any physical affection, but at times you are surrounded by it. It's everywhere, in the books you read, shows you watch, even a trip to the restaurant or the mall. When you don't have it, it can seem like it's everywhere. So, take a risk, you don't know what a little hug might do to brighten your friend's day. I'll always take a hug, but be forewarned you may make me teary.