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.

      

This is 40

In the past few months I have come to acknowledge the power of 40. Forty is not the naive youth of your 20s, nor the growth and experiences of your 30s, but the acceptance of your own being and recognition of your own power. Each decade before brought it's own growth, challenges and joy, and while I expect that the 40s will do the same there is a unique magic to 40. It comes with a dread and becomes an adventure.

At 40, a single, divorced mom of 4, I am more grounded than I was in the previous years. This does not come from age alone, but the internal growth I have undergone. Forty means stepping into my power, acknowledging who I am and accepting who I am. It is seeing me for me, loving her, even the parts I would change, and showing her to the world with the statement "I am me." For at 40 I can see me, the woman with the hips that carried 4 children; legs that have run marathons, chased children and hiked countless miles; a belly marked with stripes from carrying children; and hazel eyes that have seen joy, destruction, beauty, pain, love, and hope.

I have spent much of my life fighting myself, never quite fitting in, using that as my shield and torch. I am setting down those props and embracing my uniqueness with love. I will never be the one who spends weekends with lifelong childhood friends, driving through a neighborhood I have lived all my life. Instead, I am the one who has childhood friends across the states, friends with whom I can stay at a moment's notice, picking up right where we need to, despite a decade apart. Friends in Texas, Michigan, Florida, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, to name a few. I will always have a unique tribe, and it's something I enjoy, and at 40 am embracing with love. In fighting myself I faced every challenge alone, refusing to allow help. When the world said it was nearly impossible to complete a task, I would tell the world to sit down and watch me. It was set as a gauntlet, a challenge, not from a place of love. And you all did- you watched me fight through earning my PhD with 4 kids and husband; you watched me struggle with a license, housing and finances; you watched me battle the anxiety that was here pre-divorce and in earnest post-divorce. Now, at 40, I see my mistakes, when the task is nearly impossible I can complete it alone, but I can share the burden. I can chose to go forth in love or in fear.

At 40, I chose to go forth in love.

This is 40:

• seeing the woman in the mirror and loving her crinkles at her eyes, the light in her eyes, and all the little imperfections
• understanding that accepting help does not make you weaker, but stronger
• learning that love comes in all forms
• following passion and dreams, not only for yourself, but to model to your children
• finding the rhythms of parenting 4 unique individuals and accepting that you are never going to have all the answers
• accepting the situation at hand and then changing what you can
• taking risks, refusing to let fear and anxiety dictate
• choosing a life less ordinary and crafting it
• finding the courage in large and small situations to express my opinion, needs and desires regardless of the outcome

At 40, I go forth in love.

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.

Closure

A little envelope came in the mail today. Nothing fancy, but I knew what was in it: the official divorce decree. How did I know? I had an email from my attorney earlier in the week with the PDF copy of it, so I knew my hard copy was to arrive soon. It's such a simple little thing, two sheets of paper in a legal envelope, marking the end of a chapter. So different than the multiple pages signed and agreed upon dividing up the things that made up our life. This is just an 8x10 sheet with a raised, notarized stamp saying we approve of your multi-page settlement, but it carries with it a finality that the larger document does not.

I knew the day was coming that it would arrive, and I didn't know how I would react. I know many have gone to celebrate; I know many have gone to go weep, and then others somewhere in the middle. It's been such an emotional process these past 3 years that to reach this milestone, chapter closure, I don't know exactly what I feel. Relief? Thankfulness that it's done? Grief? Likely it's a combination of all of these and more.

My marriage wasn't easy, and I'm aware that no marriage is easy, but marriages that end in divorce have their own struggles that a healthy marriage cannot understand. When you factor in children it adds to the complexity of the grieving and healing process. My therapist has told me that in her experiences those that divorce without children may often heal faster as it is a clean break. Those of us with children are going to interact with this person for the rest of our lives, and on a more frequent basis until they are 18. This alone create stress and anxiety, so while we are officially divorced I still have to interact with their dad frequently for the benefit of our children. I say it not to be a martyr, but to be clear that in this instance my wants and needs are superseded by those of my children. So the "freedom" that has been granted me officially has a different connotation than to a woman who does not have children.

I will say it has been heady going and officially changing my name at Social Security and the DMV. It's about creating my own identity. I am not the person that my parents named as an infant, nor the woman that assumed a name at 23, this time I am choosing me, my name. I returned to my maiden name, but kept my "new" middle name. In choosing this new name I chose my new identity, display my power and revel in the magic that I am creating. I have to think every time I sign my name to make sure I identify myself correctly and that is a powerful reminder of who I am choosing.

I chose me. I chose life. I chose happiness and love. I chose to show my children that it takes all different kinds of courage to make a life worth living. So while I sit here tonight processing the impact of an envelope I examine and reflect on the gift of closure. This isn't the "when a door closes open a window scenario," this is a chose your own adventure book. Skip ahead to page 44 to pick up your story. While I reach closure on this process I know I am in a period of transition, on my way to living what I'm terming "a life less ordinary." Surely some of you are thinking that I already live a less than ordinary life, and while I do, there is still more to see and do and experience.

Follow me along this next trail while I explore, develop and grow into my chosen self and my life less ordinary.

One year, 2 days

One year and 2 days I embarked on my new position at my hospital. It was a HUGE leap of faith for me. I had no idea what exactly my job would entail, in fact my manager and those that advocated for my position didn't quite know what my job would entail. It took me out of daily patient care and into the tech and analytics world. Analytics I'm wired for, tech not quite as much, but thanks to some amazing mentors I've made my way. I certainly have a lot that I can still learn, but this job has been a blessing.

This job allows me the flexibility that I need in my life right now that I just can't have with a full-time patient care position. It allows me to have days like the other day: taking the kids to the dentist, fielding a conference call in the dental waiting area, dropping them at school and then hosting a very important conference call from my minivan while parked in front of the school. It's with the blessing of my management that I am able to do these things. There's something to be said for an amazing manager.

I never imagined myself in a role like this honestly. I left grad school and just wanted to go back to being a practicing therapist and find my way into some clinical therapy research. I made inroads into the clinical research, but there were a lot of obstacles and when my personal life started falling apart it was one of the things that fell by the wayside. In this role I can start pursuing that again.

The other component of this position is that I am not emotionally drained at the end of the day. I may have some significant mental fatigue, but I am not emotionally wiped. I never realized how much of myself I invested into my patients and families and the significant toll it was on my health until I was out of it. It honestly took almost 6 months to heal from that stress. Trying to go through a divorce and all the upheaval that it creates while simultaneously supporting families of children with disabilities in all different stages stripped me raw. I was coaching families on grieving the loss of the child they imagined during pregnancy while undergoing my own intense grieving process, and that left me tired and anxious. I have been able to heal myself and practice self care in a way that would not have been possible had I stayed in my patient care role.

Don't think that I don't miss my patients and families. I miss the magic that happens in a therapy session when you get to witness that first sit or steps on their own and know that you played a role in it. Or, when you give a child a piece of equipment and suddenly they're upright and mobile. I cherish those moments and magic that they brought to me. Today marks the return of patient care into my schedule. It's a tiny amount with only 1 scheduled per month, but it was wonderful to step away from my desk and use my therapist brain. To talk with a patient and family and figure out their needs and know that I can assist them.

I know what a journey I have taken over the past year in my career, faith, family and my own personal outlook. I am looking forward to seeing where the next year is going to be bringing me. I anticipate a year of more magic moments.

Happiness and Perspective

Sometimes all it takes is a little time and perspective to find that piece that is missing. I know that it was just yesterday that I was writing about floating along. Today, I am grounded with a seed of happiness within me. How did it happen so fast? Let me tell you a little story.

As you may have guessed writing helps me process things. I write here on my blog, I journal, I write letters (some I send, some I don't). It just gives me a place to get it all out in different formats. On top of my writing I pray nightly and I reach out to specific friends (you know who you are). Today I woke up in a better space than where I was yesterday most of the day. Sometimes it's just about giving it time and really a good night's sleep in your own bed can do amazing healing. But today I spent the day doing outdoor chores. There was a pear tree that tried to take me down, and in fact knocked me back on butt about 5ft when my saw separated. I was fine, just a little bit of wind knocked out of me. But after a break I went back and attacked that tree to finish trimming it.

It was while I was standing next to my fire pit breaking up those pear tree branches that I found that grain of internal happiness and perspective. I was thinking random things and thinking about different people in my life. A thought crossed my mind about how impressive this act might be to a certain person, when I thought to myself. "Why am I trying to impress them with this mundane action?" And it hit me- I didn't need to impress them with my actions, they should be just be impressed/like me for me. I know, it's something I should know and believe, but I haven't believed that in a long while. Today though, it stuck.

I am me, perfectly imperfect, but just who I should be. I'm a mom to 4 amazing kids. I'm a pediatric PT. I've got a PhD. I'm a certified Epic clinical builder. I'm a lifeguard. I'm a runner. I'm a former crazy cloth diapering mama. I'm granola crunchy. I love fiercely and with my entire heart. I have anxiety but it does not define me. I cherish my friends and family. I have a very tight group of friends, preferring quality friendships over quantity.  I will help out anyone who needs it, but if my friends need me I will do everything in my power to help. I will pray for you. I love being outside. I'm not afraid of power tools and enjoy using them. I'll try anything once. I have a tattoo of hope on my wrist to help me focus in times of stress and pain.

It was a freeing moment to realize that I am enough. I don't have to impress anyone, and if you don't want to include me or forget to include me that's on you. I will be happy without you, but I would like to share my joy with you. And that my friends is my seed of happiness. As I promised a dear friend of mine, I'm not settling for a seed, but will seek more.