Space

I feel a confidence in the way I have been moving throughout this trip that has given me a new awareness of space.

This morning a Brown Booby and a Masked Booby, two different but related seabird species soared together along the port side of the front of the ship.  They each seemed to own their own space without interfering with the space of the other.  There was a beauty in the moments they soared side by side following one another, neither the sole leader.  And there was a beauty in the way they would separate and do some of their own exploring or fishing before reconnecting again.

Masked Booby

Brown Booby

I didn’t have that balance in my marriage.  I let him shrink my space and be the shadow over both of us.  So it feels so liberating to be reclaiming my space again.  There’s a freedom and a joy in being my own person without limits.  So this trip so far has been a lot about finding my own space and feeling comfortable in that space.  And I'm really enjoying interacting with people along the way.

What a night!

After spending the day at the National World War II Museum and then going on a Cocktail History Tour and ending the night with live music, I just want to say I don't remember a single day during my marriage that ended on such a high note, where I had so much fun.  This has been an incredible trip to New Orleans!  And tomorrow I board a cruise ship.  Life couldn't be better.

Holidays Alone

I'm going into my second year of holidays as a single person although this is the first holiday I feel more aware of it all.  I was too deep in grief and healing that first year.

Last Thanksgiving, my first major holiday as a single person, I drove home and spent the entire week with my parents.  Last Christmas, I drove to Jekyll Island alone and lost myself on the island intentionally on Christmas Eve and then watched the sunrise on the beach Christmas morning.  Last Easter I imagine I went to church - it was never a big holiday for me so it doesn't stand out in my mind.  I happened to be on a cruise with my entire family for Fourth of July.  I flew home for Labor Day.

I booked this trip in April of this year and so I imagine at the time I saw it as a way to escape, not sure if I was ready for a major holiday at home on my own.  I think I was wrong in that assessment, though.  I think I'm ready to do holidays however I want.  

Because the doubts that hover aren't ones of loneliness or loss or sadness.  Instead they are this internal battle about what I "should" want vs what I do want.  

I don't think there is anyone in my circle that is spending this holiday completely alone.  Everyone has family or friends they are celebrating with.  Even the introverts I know who love their alone time are doing something with someone else (although generally keeping it quieter or smaller, if they can).  Even the waiter I had tonight couldn't hide his surprise that I was alone.  That is the societal norm.  

I should point out that my parents never put too much stress on the holidays.  They couldn't travel home to their families very easily because of the distance and winter weather so visits to extended family happened at other times of the year.  And when my sister and I became adults, especially after we got married and had in-laws to deal with, they stressed that they hoped to see us as often as we could but weren't going to stress about specific dates on the calendar.  For a number of years, we actually had Thanksgiving in July and just picked a date that worked for all of us.

So I'm not avoiding my family by not going home for Thanksgiving or Christmas.  I'm just choosing different days on the calendar to spend time with them.  And maybe that's why it all feels okay even as I question why I ignore this societal norm.

Fortunately, these doubts mostly stay in the back of my mind.  And I know from experience with other ways I have pushed back against societal norms is that they lessen over time as I gain more confidence to just be me.  So with each holiday that comes and goes, I know I will grow more secure in the decisions I make for each.  

In the meantime, I'm going to focus my energy on enjoying this trip.  Today I walked the Riverwalk and wandered the French Quarter.  I shopped the French Market and even spent some time talking to a really interesting author.  It's funny how I'm still learning to interact with people more authentically.  The first time I stopped by his booth, I just eavesdropped on his conversation with someone else although did make eye contact when he thanked me for stopping.  But I couldn't stop thinking about the opportunity has I walked through the rest of the market so I looped back around and actually initiated a conversation the second time I stopped.

And I enjoyed a lovely dinner by myself of seafood gumbo, snapper, shrimp, crab, and crawfish plus a glass of wine and then as my dessert a bourbon based drink that the waiter smoked at my table by lighting some cherry wood on fire.  And after people watching a bit along the Riverwalk, I caught the colors of the sunset as I walked home.  

I loved the freedom today to follow my feet, pause when they paused, more forward when they moved forward, and change directions when they changed directions.  There was a joy to my step, a relief in not having to consider anyone else or carry their negativity with me.

I have two more nights in New Orleans and then I embark on the Escape for a week long cruise.

A reminder of a really dumb argument

This morning's random reflection - I bought a heavy duty otter box case for my iPhone that spring before I even knew he would be calling it quits.  It's a bright pink color I love.  But more relevant to this story, it has a silicone inner case with a flap that covered the charging port and then an outer hard plastic case.

When he saw my new case, one of the first things my ex-husband said to me was "cut off that flap."  He insisted it would be better if I just got rid of it and didn't understand when I refused.  Why did he care so much about my phone case, something he would never use?

Anyway, the flap broke off naturally after a year and a half of use, at some point during my trip yesterday.  Earlier this week, I had noticed it getting brittle so wasn't surprised.  But I'm annoyed at the way it feels and looks and I liked having the extra protection with all the places I carry my phone.  And I'm really irritated to hear his voice in my head and be reminded of a really dumb argument that he never should have started in the first place.

Anyway, writing this down will help me let go so I can enjoy my trip (and then order a new case when I get home).  It's Thanksgiving and I see beignets, seafood, and maybe a sunset along the river in my future for today.

"You can't break a person who's not afraid to eat alone"

My therapist shared a video with me from A Coral which you can find on Instagram here.   She is an entrepreneur with a large following including several of my Instagram followers.  But more importantly to this post, her message hit home.

As I listened to her I walked through my life going all the way back to my childhood continuing through all that I experienced in the last couple years.  I felt my own evolution as I internalized her words.

I could see myself as a little girl swinging on the swings at the babysitter's when I was five or six and then sitting on the rock I named "Mucky Island" as I got just a little bit older and roamed the neighborhood.  It was that young I was already learning to "face the silence" and "sit with loneliness."

"They've already learned how to clap for themselves.  You can't bring down somebody who stopped waiting for validation."  I found another journal with some writings in it this morning as I scrambled to find a notebook with more empty pages for the trip and in that notebook are writings from maybe about a decade ago where I reflected on my childhood.  In those entries, I talked about how little my parents praised or paid much attention to my accomplishments because they were always focused on my sister's struggles.  I wrote that I learned to feel proud of myself instead of waiting for my parents to notice.  I learned to clap for myself and validate myself.

In the workforce, as a reliable, intelligent, hard-working employee, it is so easy to get overlooked and dumped on as managers focus all their energy on their problematic employees and on getting the work done.  They forget about the woman down the hall who has never missed a deadline or turned in subpar work.  They just assume she will always be there, reliable, consistent, producing quality work.  And although I sometimes crave some external validation - some sort of acknowledgment, the absence of it doesn't deter me.

In the same sense, I didn't need my spouse to be a source of validation because I could provide that for myself so it was easy to overlook when he rarely provided it.  

"You can't bring down someone .... who turned their pain into power, who turned their wounds into wisdom."  This is the last year and a half in a nutshell.

And her opening line, "You can't break a person who's not afraid to eat alone" is a beautiful visual of who I am becoming.

I don't know if I agree with her though that I won't ever fall.  But I do know that when I do, I will pick myself back up again just as I have done over and over throughout my life.

What I grieve most - the lost moments I might have more fully lived

Although I think I've been turning this thought around in my head for a while, it was actually put into words today in therapy.  I think what I grieve the most is the lost opportunities to really live.

I don't endure life.  I don't just try to survive it.  I have always wanted to experience the fullness of all it has to offer.  I really try to live in the present moment and find the beauty in the here and now.  This feels as fundamental to me as the breaths I take every minute of every day.

In my marriage, this created a push pull dynamic.  I was not going to let him rob me of all my joy and life so I intentionally pushed forward seeking it out.  But in every one of those moments, he was pulling me backwards.  As he tried to interfere with my joy.  As he handed me a cloud of negativity and negative emotions to carry.  As he drained the energy out of me.  He was this cloud that followed me into every bright sunny day I sought out.

I realized that the bench that haunts me at the Atlanta Botanical Gardens, the one where the image of him buried in his phone is so vivid in my memory, doesn't actually represent the ghost of him but actually it represents that negative presence that I felt forced to carry with me everywhere I went.

This is why the relief was so great from the moment he ended it.  I didn't want this divorce.  I deeply grieved the end.  But as much as I didn't want to admit it then, I think I knew immediately my life would get a lot better.  Overnight, I lost that pull of negativity such that my push forward took me places I never could have imagined at a very quick pace.  

Just imagine if I hadn't had that negative pull for two decades.  Just imagine all the ways I would have lived fully.  That is what I grieve most.  Although the logical side of my brain right now is trying to point out that I wouldn't be fully appreciating it like I am today, without the experience of the negative pull.

Cuddling

There was some point in the last I don't know how many years of our marriage (I don't have a great sense of time with regard to the marriage) that I realized I was agreeing to cuddle every night only for his benefit.  As I reflect back, there was a transition at some point from a mutually beneficial activity to an obligation for me.  We even had some conversations about it because it was really important to him that we cuddle and he actually communicated that to me.

I wonder if this even predates our move to the south.  Because one thing that still sticks out in my memory from the time period where we were dealing with deciding how to proceed after his emotional affair, is that he started touching me with his foot while he slept.  We would argue during the day, go to sleep unsure of whether we would stay together, and I would wake up with him physically touching me with his foot.

At the time, it felt encouraging that maybe he still wanted to stay with me, that maybe he still loved me.  But what if it was something much more basic and not even about love?  What if physical touch for him was one way he regulated his nervous system?

And what if for me, my body was trying to tell me he was wreaking havoc on my nervous system?

A new travel era - excitement is building!

I've entered a new travel era and it has gotten me a bit giddy.

My first travel era was the one fueled by my parents as a child and early college student.  They instilled in me the desire to see the world, to explore something bigger than myself, to listen to the rhythms of Mother of Nature, to wonder and to wander.

My second travel era was the one where I taught my ex-husband to love to travel and we found our own rhythms in the trips we took especially as we started to have more disposable income and could travel more frequently.

My third travel era was my healing era.  That first year after the separation travel was one of many lifelines for me.  It is where I quieted my mind and found perspective.  Sometimes it is what forced me to sit with my grief and raw emotions.  And the miles I walked were a release.  It is also where I gained confidence and tried new things and started to reconnect with my authentic self.

So here I am, less than two days before my next big solo trip and this feels like my first big solo trip with my excitement through the roof.  And I think that's because this one is truly just about me.  There isn't the baggage of a divorce hanging over my head and the newness of grief that I dragged along on my New York City trip last October.  And I know myself better and am no longer pushing against a strong default to the routines and choices we would have made as a couple.  

This is a new era.  I get to just be me.  And it is so frickin' freeing!

So I just booked a Cocktail History Walking Tour.  I've got reservations on Thanksgiving Day at a nice seafood restaurant with views of the river.  I bought tickets to the National WWII Museum.  I booked a full week pass to the thermal suite in the spa.  I'm going to learn to make different salsas, drink margaritas, and learn to dance Salsa.  I'm going to tour mangroves and participate in a seafood boil.  And I have a different dress picked out for every dinner.

It all just feels a bit more elevated and a lot more me.

Dr. Gibson's research on emotionally immature people

My therapist sent me an article a couple weeks ago written by Dr. Lindsay Gibson about emotionally immature people.  It reminded me that I had discovered some of her work that summer my marriage ended and then today in reading my thoughts from that time period, her name came up again.  On July 17, 2024, I discovered this interview with her.  This was the second day after that late night conversation where he called it quits.  I wrote in my journal, "This video hits so close to home."

My writings from that day are full of direct quotes from this video.  She was so spot on that I wondered if she had met my then husband and was talking about him specifically.  It helped explain so much of why I found our relationship so hard.

She talked about how individuals who are extremely emotionally immature have an inability to empathize and truly understand another's inner world.  They think, “What I feel is what is real so I don’t really need to do a lot of investigation or listening to you because I know what I know about you and I would be happy to tell you and we don’t have to waste time with all this communication stuff because I know I’m right.”

I used to get so irritated when he would tell me what he assumed I was feeling or thinking.  And he would say it in such a fact-based way that it wasn't open for discussion.  It didn't actually matter what I was really thinking or feeling.  All that matter was the distorted worldview he had created for me without my input.  

Dr. Gibson further talked about how they are not really open to other perspectives.  They think that's "annoying extra talking that doesn’t need to be happening” due to a lack of curiosity of other perspectives.  They just want to make announcements, not discuss.  In my ex-husband's words, "I just wanted you to accept what I say and not question me."  According to Dr. Gibson, their perspective is “You are supposed to be passive and go along with what I think is right.”

She stated they have an “idiosyncratic approach to reality. Anything they don’t like. Anything that makes them nervous. They will tend to deny it, dismiss it or distort it. They interpret reality based on how it makes them feel.”  By the end, it seemed he had managed to distort our entire relationship.  And he often found ways to dismiss anything I said that he didn't like.  Me pointing out that we didn't seem to be understanding each other and trying to clarify was met with, "I'm a great communicator."  And I can't count how many times he said "I always mess everything up" in response to a perceived criticism - usually something I was pointing out to help our future interactions not judge our past ones (i.e. could you please not stack the laundry baskets before you add the towels?).

Dr. Gibson also talked about how they have an inability to self-reflect and see how their actions affect others.  By this point in our conversations, I had come to that same conclusion about my ex-husband.  He had absolutely no ability to self-reflect or see his role in his problems or in our dynamic.  It saddened me though then to hear Dr. Gibson say they are not capable of change unless they somehow learn how to self-reflect which often takes a significant negative consequence in their life to get to that point.  She gave the examples of having a partner walk out on them or them finding themselves on the wrong side of the law.

Then Dr. Gibson said something that has stuck with me ever since.  

“If a person wants to understand what you are saying, it doesn’t really matter how you say it. If a person doesn’t want to understand what you are saying, it also doesn’t matter how you say it. The reception of your message depends on the other person’s world view and the other person’s receptivity and that you don’t have control over.”

This was a lightbulb moment for me because I had been spending years trying to soften my approach, change my tone, adjust the words I used, pay attention to his mood to find the right time to bring things up, etc.  This goes back to at least when we were in couple's counseling 2017ish where so many of our sessions were focused on just that.  Yet the end result was always the same.  He still only heard criticism and attacks in my words.  He still was intent on misunderstanding me.

This comment from Dr. Gibson was the confirmation I needed to hear that it didn't matter how I relayed my message when the recipient had no interest in receiving it.  Our miscommunications would never improve until he wanted to and was capable of understanding what I wanted to communicate and that part of our miscommunication dynamic was out of my control.

I'm a bit hesitant to admit that this video was so enlightening that I then found a video where Dr. Gibson talked about dealing with emotionally immature parents which I added it to the "Watch Later" videos on my then husband's account (the YouTube account he always used was tied to our main joint e-mail account).  It felt so passive-aggressive but none of my direct attempts to communicate with him were working (and I wasn't quite ready to let go yet).  I had hoped he would actually watch it and see how his mother had so negatively affected him and his ability to be in relationships with others.  But after a few weeks, I saw it disappear from his "Watch Later" videos unwatched.

Now as I watch the video again today, a year and a half later, after a lot of growth and hindsight, I'm pausing a lot at the section about setting boundaries with these individuals.  She described setting boundaries as "You are not doing something against that person.  You are only trying to get space for yourself."  That is something I had started to do in the last couple of years we were together - get some space back for myself.  

One boundary was that I was going to enjoy my coffee every Sunday morning while I scrolled the Washington Post.  He pushed back almost every Sunday but I never budged from my stool at the kitchen counter until I was done.  This was me finally taking some space.

Another boundary I set was asking him not to use speaker phone with his mom.  I repeated this request to him many times and he ignored it just as many times so I started leaving the room or apartment altogether or putting on headphones.  That was one boundary he didn't comply with until that summer we were separating - then every call with his mom was either in another room or not on speaker phone.  But at least in the meantime, I got consistent in enforcing the fact that I was not going to listen in and be drawn into those calls.  And I tried to not react - just a simple reminder of my request and quietly leaving the room.

In reflecting on all of this, I now get why I was so drained.  Looking at this from more of an outside perspective, this sounds like I was navigating a minefield on a daily basis.  It's still weird to me that it didn't feel that way while I was in it but maybe that was because I was using all my energy to navigate the relationship that I didn't have anything left over to analyze what I was feeling.  

I'm just now realizing that I didn't have any energy left to be present with myself, aside from my escapes to watch the sunset or observe a bird.  And maybe that is the greatest gift I gave myself when we separated - focusing so much of my energy on just being present with myself.  One of the most important things of the last year and a half is something I didn't even realize was missing for the last two decades.

A Facebook post, "stop losing your mind over someone who doesn't mind losing you"

I started working on another post (that's not ready to publish yet) about all the crazy things he said that last summer and the ways he blamed me unfairly.  I feel like I am in a place where I am ready to laugh at how wild some of those statements were.  In working on that post, I went back and read the document where I journaled my thoughts in those weeks (late May to mid-July of 2024) and I stumbled on the entry I wrote the night he called it quits.

I had remembered the extreme emotions of that night, the hours we both lay awake after the conversation, hearing him move to the living room to watch something, the early morning drive to the airport to drop him off for a two week visit to see his mom, but I had not remembered how it started until I read that entry this morning.

To give some background of the day that lead up to that night, we had a dentist appointment together earlier and not knowing what else to do, when the hygienist asked, I scheduled the next six-month cleaning for both of us like one of us always did.  Later in the day, I asked him what were the chances we would still be together in January (for that appointment).  Instead of giving me a straight answer, he asked if it truly would be helpful for me to know, which in reality was an answer in and of itself - he still wasn't investing in trying to fix us.

So that evening as we were getting ready for bed, I opened my Facebook app on my phone.  Facebook's algorithm showed me a post that said "stop losing your mind over someone who doesn't mind losing you."  Something prompted me to read it out loud to him.  He responded, "how does Facebook know you so well?"

I wrote the next morning, "During those hours awake, I realized just how truly selfish he has been. To spend years (almost two decades) sabotaging the relationship by not speaking up and letting resentment build and then to the very end putting all the focus on me and what I was doing wrong with no reflection at all as to his half of the dynamic. And to not even be willing to try before running away."

"I’m really sad. Neither of us cheated. We didn’t grow apart. One of us was just never present for the marriage and never willing to be present and so it didn’t matter how much the other worked to maintain it, it still crumbled."

Reading my thoughts from those seven weeks, I'm impressed by my clarity.  I knew what I deserved.  I really saw through his bullshit.  And so my patience was really limited.  I wasn't going to wait around forever for him to finally make a decision about whether to even try.  I wasn't looking for everything to be solved overnight but I wasn't going to keep putting in effort with someone who wasn't going to even try to match that effort.  And I only gave him about seven weeks before I pushed for an answer, that is but a tiny blimp in a two decades long relationship.  I had enough self-respect to not get stuck for too long in limbo with a man not willing to choose me.

I also got so sick of him wanting to spend money to play - buying toys like an RC car and games, shopping, traveling, going bowling, etc.  We knew how to play together.  That wasn't the part of our marriage that needed work.  Although I wasn't against play being a part of a balanced solution, it wasn't a solution that would work on its own.  And on a practical level, any money we wasted would be less money we would have to split and each build new lives if we did divorce, something that was seeming more and more likely.  Plus honestly, it was making it harder for me to separate fantasy from reality as it was easier for him to wear his mask when we were out having fun.

But back to the clarity I'm amazed I found in highly emotionally charged circumstances.  I think that further supports my recent reflections that I had been preparing on at least a subconscious level for this for quite some time before it happened.  And although, I had plenty of self-doubt, because of that subconscious preparation, I had enough self-worth to see the absurdity in so many of his accusations.  

By mid-July, I was still (unrealistically) hanging onto some hope of making it work but I also had written some very clear guidelines for the only way I was willing to try and make it work.  Aside from learning how to face conflict, him not silently holding onto resentments, and rebalancing our efforts by starting with his part of our dynamics (after all the focus on me), I wrote that he needed to 

"Give me back my voice.  Learn to listen and show respect for my ideas, opinions, and input. This doesn’t mean he has to agree with them or we have to do things my way. It means he has to welcome hearing what I have to say and not take it as an attack on him. He needs to see it as a healthy part of being in a couple where partners each share their ideas. I don’t want to hear, “I wish you would just accept what I say sometimes.” That is not what a partnership is. A partnership leaves space for both people to ask questions, gain understanding, and give input."

I admit that this morning I'm a bit in awe at the way I handled that last summer together.  I'm impressed by the clarity I had, all the times I found a way to keep my cool, and the amount of listening I did.  And from my viewpoint today, I see how it all fits into the before and after - the preparations that subconsciously happened before as things shifted in me going back to at least May of 2023, if not before and the way it set the stage for me to start living a solo life filled with joy, energy, community, and a bright future.

Saturday ramblings

I didn't go look for the bittern.  I didn't want to navigate all the closed streets for this morning's race so put off a decision until the afternoon.  And by that time two sets of eBird sightings for today had been submitted for the park and neither of them included a bittern (and a bittern wasn't included in yesterday's sightings either).  A third was submitted late this afternoon and still didn't include the bittern.  He's either really hiding or has moved on.  I decided it wasn't worth the trip.

So instead I booked flights to Albuquerque in January, checked out ship tour options for my sister on a ladies' cruise my mom just booked for us in early 2027, bought tickets for the National WWI Museum in New Orleans for Friday, discovered an observation platform as well as an Insectarium in New Orleans to add to my plans, and picked out a restaurant for Thanksgiving Day.  Maybe an early Thanksgiving dinner to catch the sunset?  The restaurant overlooks the Mississippi River with large windows or the option of dining on the balcony, depending on the weather.  

And then in time for happy hour at one of my neighborhood restaurants, I walked over for chocolate cake and wine.  As I sat at the bar and explained to the bartender that was what I was there for, he laughed in support.  He chatted with me on and off as I savored a huge slice of cake and drank two glasses of wine.  I think that will be my dinner tonight!  😁 The human contact and attention was kind of nice.

When I got home, I connected my phone to my Bluetooth speaker, started my playlist, and started going through my dresses for my upcoming cruise.  There is so much joy in putting on a frilly or sequined dress and twirling in front of the mirror.

What a Saturday this was!

A bird sighting

There is a Bittern that has been spotted pretty regularly over the last week or two at a park just south of my city.  A bittern is the last of the heron species native to this part of the world that I have yet to see and photograph.  The herons and egrets are among my favorite birds so this has been a species on my mind for some time.  I heard one once about a year and a half ago at the Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge but he was so hidden I couldn't find him.

This weekend might be my last chance to see him because then I will be going on vacation and in the first week or two of December, they have a massive cleanup planned for the park that will likely scare him away, if he hasn't already moved on by that time.

Yet I hesitate.

Why do I hesitate?  There is a race near our apartment that will make it hard to get in and out of my apartment tomorrow morning.  I've been feeling drained lately (although today was better) and am not sure if I really want to go out.  And it looks like it will be rainy tomorrow, although when has that ever stopped me?  And there is always a chance the Bittern has already moved on or is hiding even if I do go as bird sightings are never guaranteed.  But those just sound like superficial excuses to me.

I think the real reason is that this park is one my ex-husband and I went to often and I've never been there without him.  We saw our first Anhinga there.  It was one of our local go-to places for bird watching together.  He would have been excited to go see the Bittern with me.

Sure I've been to other places he and I had been to together but none that were exclusively ours.  I had my own solo memories at all those other places.

In some ways, I'm stubborn and feel he wins if I let him take this place away from me so I feel like I have to return at some point.  But I also don't know if I'm ready to have his ghost follow me there.

I think I'm going to go to bed and see what tomorrow brings and how I feel.

I made lasagna today.

My biggest challenge now that I'm on my own is feeding myself.  That sounds so silly when I type it out.  But I really don't enjoy cooking and I enjoy cooking even less when it is just me.  And so I never plan meals.  And I rarely buy helpful ingredients at the grocery store.  Three weeks into November and I've only spent $220 on groceries this month.  That's mostly salad kits for lunch, oat milk for coffee, bagels, lunch meat, potato salad, a few frozen items, and the ingredients for this lasagna.  Maybe this is why I have found I enjoy going out so much.

So when I say I made lasagna this evening, it is a really big deal.

What made this an even bigger deal is how much I enjoyed making it the way I wanted.  I didn't have the chop the garlic too fine so he wouldn't complain.  Nor did I have to precook it to take the bite completely off it.  I like the robust flavor of garlic.  

And I added yellow squash.  He wouldn't even try yellow squash.  Plus I picked out a new chunky sauce he never would have agreed to.

So as the smells permeate my apartment while it cooks, I smile and eagerly await the first bite.  Tonight I am managing to feed myself properly.

Limerence? A trauma bond?

Maybe it's a new feeling of grief that is draining me these days as all the layers get pulled back and I start to realize maybe it wasn't even ever love.  Maybe it was just limerence or a trauma bond or both - I suspect those two overlap.

I'm not going to label or diagnose my ex-husband.  To be honest, none of them quite fit.  I think that's my own issue with labels though.  I see enough gray in this world to realize none of us actually fit very well in square boxes.  We are all shaped so differently.

I do know though that he displayed a lot of narcissistic traits.  I'm realizing everything he did had a self-motivation focus to it even if outwardly it looked like he was considering my or others' needs.  That's especially evident in all the ways he didn't consider my needs anytime there wasn't a benefit to him.

And he lacked empathy.  When he wanted to and was getting something out of it, he could pretend to care.  There were times he offered sympathy but I suspect it was all a performance to get validation, feed his ego, get people to like him and see him as a good guy.  When he didn't think he would get any of those things out of it, he was cold and distant.

He also had avoidant traits.  We never even got close to resolving conflicts.  Not that couples resolve everything but there wasn't even an attempt or any attempts at repair.  He ran from those conversations or deflected or got defensive, anything to avoid accountability or self-reflect.  Anything to avoid even the perception that he might be criticized - he interpreted so much as an attack.

And in so many ways he seemed to intentionally stomp on my joy.  It's like he wanted me to be as miserable as he felt in his distorted view of his life where the world was out to get him.

He also really knew how to turn it on and perform to keep me in.  Our beginning was so intense, maybe even obsessive.  The attention, the praise, the promises, the very early discussions about the future were over the top.  But that was just one part of a cycle of both highs and lows that repeated throughout the relationship.  As I was trying to pack up all my belongings when we separated, I noticed how many letters, poems, and cards he had written me in 2018 and early 2019.  In hindsight, I realize this was another time of highs that included a lot of love bombing.

I don't know if this was part of an avoidant cycle fed by dopamine hits followed by distance when things got real or if it was a narcissistic way of breadcrumbing me to keep me in the cycle.  Maybe it doesn't matter regardless of intent, the effect on me was the same.

The part of the cycle that I think has been harder to identify is the low parts.  Maybe that is why I struggled to see the big picture of so long.  I think I got so good at disassociating that I don't even have clear memories of so many of the lows.  I also think I'm so good at distracting myself with joy which. minimized how low they felt in the moment.  I'm the woman that stomps in puddles in a rainstorm both physically and metaphorically. 

I also was raised to be so independent and form my own opinion of my self such that it was harder for him to knock my self-worth down too far.  Don't get me wrong - I did a lot of shrinking, losing pieces of my identity, and doubting myself but I wasn't left with no self-worth at all.  Everything is relative in life and my starting point mattered here.  And so the lows didn't get as low as they could have if my starting point would have been different.

So I'm left with an illusion that has mostly been shattered.  And I think the strong love I felt for him was just a trauma bond that he controlled through the intensity of the highs combined with my own morals that kept me committed.  And to lose that illusion is to lose the love I believed in which feels like a great loss that makes me really sad.

But maybe that doesn't diminish the love I chose to give.  It may have been motivated by limerence/a trauma bond but it still shows my capacity for love.  And though we all want to feel love for others and feel loved by others, I believe the most important definition of love is as a verb.

The moment things shifted

I didn't fully understand it at the time but there was a moment when I think I realized deep down that the man I had married was not my person.

It was May 6, 2023.  We had landed in Honolulu earlier that day, day two of an 18 day trip with him and his mom.  After checking into our hotel and going to dinner, we walked one block further down Surfboards Street to the beach, the famous Waikiki Beach.  When the pavement ended, I removed my shoes and sunk my feet into the sand.  My eyes on the beautiful waters of the Pacific Ocean, I headed towards the sea.

Not sensing anyone with me, I looked back to find him and his mom standing at the point where the paved path met the sand just staring at me, both with their shoes still on.  I don't remember if I asked him whether he was coming or just accepted the clear message of his silence and stance.  But I turned back to the water and continued on.

As I walked along the shore where the waves lapped over my feet, a view of Diamond Head before me, it really sunk in that he would always choose his mom.  He always had.  I was so disappointed he didn't want to experience this with me.  Always living closer to the Atlantic Ocean, I had so rarely seen the Pacific Ocean and couldn't remember the last time I had actually dipped my toes in it.  And here we were on one of the most beautiful beaches.

And then I was so frustrated because the way he and his mom stood there at the end of that path impatiently made me feel like I had to hurry.  Even as I tried to slow down and enjoy the moment, there was this constant reminder that they were waiting for me.  I don't know how much they were actually rushing me vs me feeling like I had to rush but I hated they had put me in this situation.

From that point on, I think the entire next year was to prepare me for what was coming next.  That trip included some of my first solo experiences traveling - a snorkeling excursion from Kona I went on solo, many solo breakfasts on the cruise ship, a few solo wanderings at port including an after dinner late tender ride and shopping run to Lahaina.  I was so sad he didn't want to take a night tender ride with me to see the ship all light up, reflecting off the water, an experience that was nothing but magical to me.

Then when he planned his twice a year two-week trip to see his mom early that fall, I didn't stay home the full two weeks and instead booked a train ride to DC for the long weekend in between.  And in the Galapagos later that year, I did multiple snorkeling trips without him and didn't even feel his absence as I soaked in the early morning swallow-tailed gulls.  I was getting more and more accustomed to true solitude.  Prior to these experiences, he was usually at least present physically although often not mentally.

And at some point that year, I moved into the spare bathroom for my mourning and night routines.  And I started taking space for myself on Sunday mornings to enjoy my coffee ignoring what he wanted to do those mornings.

That was also the year, I actually got involved in picking out the car I would ultimately take in the divorce.  Of all the cars we owned over the years, that is the one I knew the most about - maybe not in a comfort level with driving it but in an understanding of how it worked and what it needed.

And then in the first half of 2024 when he was gone more than he was home, I got used to managing the house completely without him.  I remember he was surprised the day he was in Philadelphia and got notifications from our car app that I was updating both cars.  He didn't think I knew how to do that.  I had forgotten about that day until I was reflecting this evening.  I think he even made a comment implying that if I was learning how to do that I might leave him.  I forget exactly what he said.  I thought nothing of it at the time because at that point, I didn't yet realize he was planning his own escape.

I bet there is more too, subtle ways I was preparing for a life on my own even if I didn't fully realize it.  It makes me wonder what subtle cues I was giving off to him and how that might have lead him to his own decision.

How did I not know how alone I was?

Sometimes I really wonder how I did not realize how alone I was in my marriage?  But then I picture my childhood and it makes more sense.

There was a large rock, almost as tall as me that sat in a grassy field.  After a rain, mud would surround it making it a little harder to get to.  I named it Mucky Island.  I would climb up on that rock, jumping over the mud, if I needed to, and spend hours there - writing, reading, daydreaming.  Then when I was maybe 12 or 13, they bulldozed the field and built houses.  The rock remained but then sat in someone's front yard.  I mourned the loss of my sacred space.

And then I think about the babysitter we went to in early elementary school.  Her boys were awful so I would swing on their swing set for hours to escape them.  I remember starting kindergarten while under the care of this babysitter.  I was the oldest.  My sister was two years behind me.  Her oldest son was my sister's age.  Once her oldest son started school, she would get up every morning and drive us all the mile to the neighborhood elementary school but those first two years of school for me, I was on my own.  

I remember a snowstorm in kindergarten or first grade where the snow was deep enough I sunk to my waist and so many people had not yet shoveled their sidewalks.  I was so late to school that day.  It was hard to walk in snow that deep.

I remember twirling on the jungle gym bars at recess in elementary school, so completely in my own world such that the day I fell and knocked the wind out of me, no one noticed.  I laid there for a moment or two (I don't know how long actually) confused and scared and then picked myself up and found somewhere to sit and rest until recess was over.

I remember several trips to a cabin on a lake in maybe middle school or early high school and what stands out most were the mornings I sipped a hot beverage as I sat on the back stoop alone and watched the sunrise.  Or the times I went for a run early in the morning in the woods (and got chased by a mama turkey on one occasion).  Even the year my sister and I each got to bring a friend, it's not the memories with my friend that have stayed with me.  It's the quiet moments of solitude.

As a teenager battling depression, I remember the solitary time I spent at my city's downtown park, walking, writing, rollerblading, biking, sitting, daydreaming.  I was there so often it felt like a second home.  This is what became my sacred space after I lost access to Mucky Island.

And when I studied in Spain for a semester in college, I chose to use one of my two weeks of spring break to spend by myself on the beach in the Canary Islands.  

It's no wonder I accepted a husband who wasn't quite present.  I don't know if I ever had someone who was fully present on a consistent basis in my life.  I was so used to solitude and solving problems on my own, I think before I even entered elementary school.  I could self-soothe, self-regulate, self-entertain at a very young age. 

As I truly reflect on my childhood, I don’t know that it was particularly happy.  Between the bullies and the lack of good friends and relationships, I was left pretty isolated, facing the world alone.  But I found my own joy everywhere I went.  I looked for excuses to smile and laugh and dance.  I made my own happiness.  So doing that in the context of my marriage felt normal.

In college, the depression of my teenage years seemed to just go away.  Maybe it was because that was the first time in my life I started building a life for me and started sorting through friendships to find ones that fed me instead of drained me.  And I did find that in a few people - three separate women come to mind.  And my ex-husband at first seemed to fall in that category of people until he slowly morphed into something that felt more familiar to my childhood.

Now, in my 40s, I get my second chance to build a life for me.  And I’m once again experiencing that real happiness that I experienced in college, a happiness that isn’t created to distract or cover-up a life that is fairly empty. But instead a happiness that naturally comes from a full, meaningful life surrounded by people who uplift, not drain.

Every new place brought a potential for greener grass

We moved in together in early fall of 2003 as college students.  I was still working on my Bachelor's.  He was starting his Graduate program.  Twenty-one years later in September of 2024, we moved out into our own places for the first time as we separated.  In those twenty-one years, we lived in ten different homes that spanned five different commuting areas in three different states.

As I think back to each of those moves, I think he was a driving force behind each of them whether it was a move for his job, a move because he wanted to be closer to his parents, a move because the current apartment had gotten too noisy for him, or a move to get away from his mom.

As the miserable person I realize he was/is who depended on dopamine hits to distract him from the misery, I wonder if moving was one more way to feed that dopamine.  And then when it wore off, he started looking for greener grass again.

And that might even explain the shift in 2017 and 2018.  We had been in couple's counseling for some portion of those years after he admitted to having (unreciprocated) feelings for his boss.  His dad was dying as well which added another layer to it all.  But at some point in 2018, we made a decision to move south and everything seemed to suddenly get better between us.  

I remember laughing about how I would come home from work to find he had sold more of our stuff even though we didn't yet know where we were going.  We even had a massive rummage sale that summer before we had any firm moving plans.  We were suddenly a team again determined to move.   He was so supportive of all the applications I was submitting and then interviews I was getting.  And that all continued into probably the first year in Alabama as we explored a new place together.  Was this all a dopamine hit planning for and then exploring “greener grass”?

I realize he did this same thing with cars - used them as a dopamine hit and then when he got bored of the current one went looking for a better one.  And maybe my love for travel fed into that as well which could explain why he was still booking trips while he had one foot out the door.  I had never considered that maybe all our moves fed into that distraction from misery as well.  And maybe these are the things that kept him from leaving so much earlier.  Maybe I was providing a life of constant potential for greener grass.

Except I had started to get exasperated with his constant car purchases.  And we were both very settled in this city and our jobs here where we had already lived for almost six years with no potential move on the horizon.  And maybe all his work travel on his own that spring and summer of 2024 made him realize, he didn't need me anymore to provide that potential for greener grass.  And I actually stood in the way of him finding a new dopamine hit in someone else.

It was clear to me that he saw ending the marriage as a way to have the freedom to go out and find happiness.  He repeatedly made comments to that effect and kept telling me he hoped I found happiness myself.  I just don't think he understands the difference between true happiness that comes from within and the dopamine high with something new and exciting.  So he continues to seek out those distractions from the misery within.

It's not too early for Christmas!

Sometimes self-care is knowing when to stay in.  With the stress of everyone back Thursday and Friday at work, then a church hike yesterday, a heavy church service today (our sermon series is walking through the valley with today's topic being suicide), desperately needing groceries, and just overall feeling off, I knew the showing of Wicked at church was beyond my energy.  It would have been so much fun to go.  I was going to pick my favorite pink dress to wear.  The weather was gorgeous so the walk over would have been very nice.  But it would have taken energy I didn't have.

So instead I got my grocery shopping done.  And although I'm not sure I bought enough real food, I discovered Breyers dairy free ice cream made with oat milk in a full size container for the same price as the dairy versions!  I haven't bought ice cream since moving out because I just didn't want it enough to pay the exorbitant prices of dairy free versions.  I bought a small apple pie to go with it.  This apple pie is so good especially with the ice cream!  I never knew I liked apple pie this much!

And then when I got home, I ate lunch and took a nap before turning on a solo classical piano playlist I really like.  It has been playing for probably 4 or 5 hours now.  Sometimes it is quiet and soothing.  Other times the emotions build as the pace quickens and the dynamics increase.  The rise and fall is therapeutic.  

At a slow pace, with a lot of breaks to write or read, I've cleaned up the kitchen, done two loads of laundry, put new sheets on the bed, and pulled out my Christmas decorations.  I know it's early but I just don't care.  They bring me joy.  

My Grandma on my Dad's side made a beautiful Christmas lap quilt, tree skirt and stockings.  I think last year I only put out one stocking not wanting to remember they were made as a pair for me and my ex but this year, it feels like my life on its own is full enough for two!  

I set up the ceramic tree my Mom painted that still smells like my Grandma on her side and the perfume she used to wear because it was her tree for so many years.  I hung ornaments on my liquor cabinet (since I don't have a traditional tree), so many of them handmade by my Mom, my Grandma, my Dad, and by me, others that carry meaning from trips I've taken, places I've lived, and people I've known.  I discovered an angel I thought we had bought together that I especially liked actually had a date on a tag I had added from my first Christmas in college, which predates him so I hung that one prominently.

I got out the Holly bear.  My Grandma made the first Holly for my parents.  There's is a red bear (with holly on it of course).  Growing up, I insisted we keep it out year round.  My Grandma discovered how much I loved it that she then made me one (a green one, again with holly on it).  In my small space now, she gets put away the rest of the year, although maybe I should change that.

I even put out the snowman I made in elementary school that is made of a men's tube sock with a roll of toilet paper and a styrofoam ball stuffed inside to give it shape.  My parents joked about the "toilet paper snowman" growing up, although they always let me put it out.  My ex-husband hated it so I only brought it out the years I was willing to argue for it.

And then when it was all done, I texted a few photos to my choir friend, a 78 year old woman who I have really connected with.  I had been talking to her about my plans at church today.  She had hit her limit for the weekend as well and was hoping for a quiet afternoon and evening like mine.  I think we both got what we needed and I think we both enjoyed exchanging a few texts to check in on each other.

So now, I sit here at my kitchen table feeling the breeze come in through my patio doors, listening to the train as it at times drowns out the piano, writing this post, and feeling a sense of contentment.  I'm tired so will probably go to bed soon but I feel at peace.

Sometimes I wonder

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have someone at my side who would dance in the rain with me and join me for magical moments like those swallow-tail gulls guiding our ship at 4:00 a.m.  To have someone who would seek out those opportunities too, adding to the joy we collectively embrace.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have someone rub my back and get my water and medicine when I wake up in the middle of the night coughing with an episode of acid reflux instead of having someone who pretended to continue to sleep as I did my best to stay quiet.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have someone who learned my favorite flower and which forks I preferred and how I wanted my clothes folded.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have someone who prioritized us as we made decisions together instead of only focusing what was best for them.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have someone who valued my opinions and experiences as much as they valued their own and lived by the belief that our combined opinions and experiences is what would help us make the best decisions.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have someone who steps up to solve problems instead of steps back to see what resolution I come up with.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have someone who consistently walks with me, not two steps back or two steps forward, and makes space for me when we walk through a crowd.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be with someone who chose me every day.

At times, I feel just a bit of bitterness that my ex benefited from all those things from me for two decades while I missed out.  It just doesn't seem fair.  But I get life isn't fair.  And I wouldn't undo any of the things I did because they speak more about me, my integrity, and my capacity to love than anything related to him or whether he deserved it.

But I will admit, it is really hard to imagine what it is like to be on the receiving end of those things because that is not something I have ever really experienced in my life.  

I realize now that my parents were so focused on raising me to be independent, they didn't teach me to ask for help or how important reciprocity is in a relationship.  I remember a conversation with my Dad at about sixteen where he told me that he had taught me everything he could and it was now my turn to live my life.  He stressed he would always be there as a fall back (and both my parents always have been) but he stayed in the background waiting for me to ask for something.  Neither of my parents have been the type to give unsolicited help or jump in and solve someone else's problems.  They wait in the ready.

After experiencing my mother-in-law, as an adult, I really appreciated that trait in my parents.  But maybe it started too early.  Maybe I missed out on learning how important it is to be on the receiving end of care in relationships.

I was a junior in high school.  I was color guard captain and we would rehearse on the football field one evening a week under the lights.  The show we were working on involved white wooden boxes some of us would stand on for a portion of one of the songs.  It was the first night we were rehearsing with them.  One was placed where I didn't expect it.  I don't know if it was in the wrong place or if my steps were off.

We were trained to keep our head up so my eyes weren't on the ground.  One of those wooden boxes caught me by surprise as I went running into it, tumbling to the ground.  I picked myself up and continued the practice.  It wasn't until the practice was over that I discovered the car key was no longer in my pocket.  And then I looked down to find my pant leg all bloody.

My mom was out of town with our only other car.  My first worry though was getting the car home.  I found a friend to drive me home to pick up an another set of keys and drive me back to get the car.  With the car back in the garage, I entered the house.  I still hadn't inspected my injury.

Knowing my Dad wouldn't be much help because he had as big a fear of blood as I did, I headed up stairs to face my injury alone.  Nothing was broken but the gash was huge and the leg swelled up quite a bit over the next days making me sit out of the next practices and making it hard to drive (as this was my right leg).  I still have a scar today.  I managed to clean it up myself and went to bed.

Going back even further, I used to feel proud of the memory I have as an early elementary age girl up on a chair at the counter every morning making my own lunch while my Dad made his.  But maybe there's a reason none of my friends made their own lunches.  They all had moms or dads who made a lunch for them and still did many other things for them.

Not that parents should do everything for their children but maybe there is a balance somewhere.  My ex-husband had never done laundry until I taught him that first weekend he came to see me instead of going home.  His Mom still did almost everything for him.  It probably didn't help us find a middle ground when we married as we were coming from two opposite ends of that spectrum, neither probably healthy ends.

Emotionally, it was the same scenario.  I had spent most of my childhood alone learning to self-soothe, self-regulate.  I had mostly dealt with bullies on my own, except in fifth grade when my teacher was actually enabling the bullies to harass me during class (I did get my parents involved that year).  I don't know if I ever learned a healthy co-regulation.

He had spent his childhood never learning to self-soothe, self-regulate, or manage his emotions as he dealt with a chaotic mother, a distant father, and I think some of his own problems with bullying both at home and at school.  He didn't have any healthy co-regulation skills either.

Maybe that is what attracted me to him - my ability to manage his life and emotions for him, two things he struggled with.  And I had no reason to believe I could expect anything from him as I had learned to do life on my own.  I had no reason to believe our dynamic was not healthy because I had not learned a healthy give and take.

Note, I don't fault my parents for any of this.  They are actually pretty great people who did a lot of right by me.  I am a kind, compassionate, strong, successful woman because of them.  And they have grown over the years to the point where we now have a more reciprocal relationship.  But maybe this helps explain this piece that I feel like I missed out on.  Maybe this helps me understand how I found myself in the marriage I did and why I stayed as long as I did.

A dream where time overlapped

I had a dream last night.  The dream started with me wondering what he had done with our large wedding photo that used to hang on our wall.  Then I saw myself in a room with the photo and I believe with him.  I was crying and angry as I pointed at the photo, I asked why he had made those vows if he had no intention of investing in our relationship or choosing me.  I asked why he had committed to a relationship he wasn't willing to put the effort into.

In this dream, the me of today was watching this as an outsider from a distance.  I could sense the desperation and despair in the version of me asking those questions but I didn't feel the pain myself today.  There was distance between the me of today and that version of me.  I woke up feeling detached from what I had seen.

I'm not sure if he was even truly present or if he was just an illusion.  I sensed him but I'm not sure I actually saw him and I never saw any sort of response or reaction from him.  I think the me of then believed he was there and the me of today believes the feeling of his presence was just an illusion.

This morning as I reflect on this dream, my mind is pulled many directions.  In some ways it feels like a flashback to those early days when I was desperate for answers as to how he could do this to me.  In other ways, his lack of any real presence in the dream makes me wonder if these questions were more directed at myself and why I made vows to him knowing he would never fully choose me.  And yet, the feeling of distance in it all makes me wonder if the answers really matter anymore.

It feels like the me of a year ago got to sit in a room with the me of today.  Imagine if this were a memory of future me sitting with the then present me to help her through last fall.  I don't know what to believe about the idea that time could overlap but I do know that I found an extraordinary amount of strength last year and it's comforting to imagine a future me guiding me through it all.  

My body says I'm struggling with something

I'm so tired even though I slept fairly well last night and took a nap this afternoon.  I've been ready to go to bed since about 6:00 p.m. but have been trying to hold off to not completely throw off my sleep schedule.

And I'm picking at my nails more than normal.

And there are dishes that are undone and have been piling up for a couple days.

And my fridge is empty.  I meant to go to the grocery store this afternoon but didn't.  

And I didn't make good food choices today - a bagel and coffee for breakfast and lunch was two beers, fried chicken and fries at a local brewery.  I haven't eaten since.  I'm not hungry.  I don't even remember if I ate dinner last night although I have this vague recollection of garlic stuffed olives and pickles but that isn't much of a meal.

I have seven blog post drafts (including this one) started from the last 48 hours or so - none of them very well thought out (except hopefully I will actually publish this one), just thoughts I want to reflect on.  

I have this memory of having this lightening bulb moment last night as I was starting to drift off with plans to write about it in the morning yet I can't remember what it was.  Usually I jot a quick note down because otherwise they keep me up until I do but I was already drifting at this point.

In my defense though, I did get out and join the church hike this morning.  It took some convincing as I sat at the kitchen table in my robe with my coffee but I did it!  We hiked about 3 miles over two hours.  I chatted with a couple friends.  

And sitting on the patio of the brewery in the sunshine was really positive, even if my food choices weren't.  Plus I spent an hour on the phone with my mom and sister planning our next ladies' trip.  

So it's not all a total loss.  But I know I'm not at my best.  I wonder what it is I'm struggling with.

Courage

Two years ago, I swam with sharks.  We were snorkeling in the Galapagos and our naturalist spotted a reef shark.  I kicked my fins a bit harder to propel myself closer and captured some video as I briefly followed it along a ridge and then noticed a couple more resting.

Maybe I've always been a bit courageous.

So much of what I have done over the last year and a half has taken so much courage that has clearly surprised so many people around me (aside from maybe my parents).  Interestingly, it has surprised me as well.  But maybe I shouldn't have been so surprised.

At some point after the separation, my Dad brought up the reminder of watching me head off to Spain to study for a semester in college.  I forget the word he used but I got the sense he was proud of my courage to travel across the ocean on my own when I was barely an adult.  I hadn't thought of it that way until he brought it up.  He said it in a context that made me think he had confidence I would do well building a new life on my own.

Sometimes it feels like I've become a whole new person but this reflection is a reminder that I've really just re-found the person I was all along and more fully embraced and learned to love her.

New Shoes

I bought new shoes this weekend.  They are mustard yellow.  The color makes me smile.  And when I put them on at the shoe store and did my usual dancing and jumping to test them out, they felt perfect.

But when I put them on this morning, they reminded me of the last new shoes my ex-husband bought when we were together. This was last summer when things were rocky.  We had gone to the mall to check out the selection of Toys ‘R Us toys that had been added to one of the department stores since the closing of that toy store, a toy store he had so many fond memories of as a child.

And we somehow ended up in a shoe store.  They were red and not his normal style.  As he put them on, I just watched him.  I didn’t want to influence his thoughts on them.  And then he smiled real big.

At this point, I didn’t have a lot of optimism that we would make it as a couple but I couldn’t hold back my joy at seeing the pleasure on his face over something as simple as a pair of shoes.

And although there is a small pang of sadness that he didn’t reciprocate by finding joy in the things that gave me pleasure, I mostly feel a fondness in this memory.  It is such an incredibly simple way to give love that feeds both people so much.

And so although I’m really raising the standard for what I will accept in close relationships and now expect reciprocity for those in my inner circle, I don’t think I will ever tire of letting joy bubble out when I get to see others’ joy regardless of where that person fits in my life.

A bit of a rough morning

I'm groggy this morning.  My alarm actually woke me up and I suspect it was while I was in a deeper sleep cycle.  I don't remember the last time an alarm woke me up.

Since moving out on my own, I've been able to develop a natural sleep schedule that fits me better.  I go to bed earlier so that I have extra time in the mornings to enjoy the quiet.  And one benefit of that is I wake up naturally, except for today.

Maybe yesterday took too much out of me.  It was the first day back with all my co-workers since the 43 day shutdown and it was a busy day as people continued relying on me for things I had done the last 43 days instead of turning to my colleagues who were now back without even an acknowledgment as if this is the new status quo.  I'm tired of being taken advantage of at work.

And my apartment feels cluttered.  There are still things to pick up from the weekend away that I didn't feel like doing on Tuesday when I got back and then didn't have time to do with other commitments Wednesday and Thursday nights.  This paragraph is almost weird to write as I've never typically been bothered by clutter.  

Maybe this weekend I can catch up and get back into my routine.  In the meantime, I have one more workday of the week to get through.

A reminder of who I am

One of today’s social media memories took my breath away and reminded me of who I am and who I have always been.  Even my ex-husband’s treatment of me didn’t take away this core of my essence - my ability and desire to seek out and soak in beauty and awe.  It is what sustains me.  It is where I find peace in even the most trying moments.  It is what makes my life so wonderful.  And it is the foundation I have built upon in this last year or so of immense transformation and growth.

From November 13, 2023

Early this morning (around 4:30 a.m.), the ship was really rocking and rolling and I couldn’t sleep anymore so I stepped outside onto my balcony.  Even with the navigation light at the front of the ship, my eyes were drawn to more stars than I had ever seen in my life.  Individual constellations were hard to make out, although being south of the equator, I'm not sure I would necessarily recognize them anyway.  The sight took my breath away.  

Then with the wind in my face, I focused forward into the pure blackness that we were cruising into.  I know with all the navigational tools that the Captain knew exactly where we were going but it felt like we were driving blind into the unknown.

A pair of what I believe were Swallow-tailed Gulls soared along side (I'll have to ask one of the naturalists later).  The clicking sound of their call was so distinct.  The way they soared and played in the darkness, the light reflecting white off them, was a bit mysterious and almost magical.

This trip so far has been full of moments, animals, landscapes, etc. that can be captured so well with my camera.  I am so delighted in the images I am getting.  But it is also filled with moments like these that can only be experienced and that leave an imprint on your soul.

I know I should be sleeping.  I have four excursions today.  But how can I sleep when I am surrounded by so much beauty and mystery, a place where I'm drawn to the stars, the sea, and the land?

And then I read my memory from last year on this day and although, I won’t quote the full post, there was an interesting parallel. It was a cold, windy, dark, rainy evening as I headed out to choir.  I only had a moment where I mumbled how miserable it was especially in the context of a very hard week (and year at that point).  And then I let the rain remind me of how much is beyond my control. That is when I noticed my bright pink rain jacket fit me nicely after the weight loss such that it even had room to keep my iPad dry.  And I wrote,

And then I let the rain pouring down on my face wash away all the anger, the disappointment, and the sadness.  And by the time I got to choir practice, I was ready to sing.

Interestingly, the walk home was dry. The moon started to peak out from behind the clouds. The city skyline was clear. There was a sense of peace within me.

A transition?

After a four day weekend with my mom and sister in Atlanta, it's time to get back to reality.  This may even be my last day or two of this shutdown with the Senate having passed a continuing resolution earlier this week and the House convening today.  Today is day 43.

Change - this last year and a half has been about a lot of change.  It comes in waves though.  I have time to  get used to something and then, circumstances change or my perspective changes or both.

This morning's time at my kitchen table feels like the quiet moment before another change.  My weekend in Atlanta has renewed my hopes of eventually securing a job there and it will be nice to have people back in the office regularly.  But right now, I feel this need to just center myself and sit here in this moment.  There is a sense of peace in not worrying about what is next as I just take in the calm of today.

Has there always been this quiet moment when a shift feels imminent but not quite here yet that I just rushed through?  I suppose some changes came more swiftly, with less warning than others.  Maybe the train ride to NYC last year is another great example of the quiet moment before a change.  I didn't rush that moment either.

The solution for a car parked too close brings me joy.

My car was plugged in at our hotel this weekend, the spots were pretty narrow and there were posts every few spots adding extra challenges.  When we walked out to the car on Sunday morning, the EV in the spot next to me was just inches from my drivers side.  The EV spot next to him had been ICE'd and that car had crossed over the line, leaving the EV an incredibly tight space, if it wanted to be able to charge.

I unplugged my car, assessed the space between the cars, and then got in on the passenger side and climbed over.  And then we headed out for our day of activities.  There was no harm done.

That image of the cars so close and me climbing over the center counsel stuck with me throughout the next days, bringing a smile to my face each time.  Do you know how much easier life is if you don't have to simultaneously manage someone else's emotions while you solve the problems that naturally come up?  How much easier it is to smile when you come up with a creative solution when you're not with someone who sees malintent everywhere and assumes the world is out to get us?

If we had still been together when this happened, he would have been outraged that someone had parked so close.  He would have inspected every inch of the car.  There would have been a lot of swearing.  I would have silently recognized the hypocrisy because if the roles were reversed, he would have done the exact same thing this car had done, leaving someone else in the exact same scenario we were in.

After I validated how horrible it was and tried to calm him down a bit, I would have climbed in the passenger seat and over the center counsel, just as I did on this occasion and I would have pulled the car out for him.  Then I would have had to listen to him complain about it for the rest of the trip.  And if I didn't vocally agree with him enough, he would have accused me of not being on his side.  It wouldn't have been enough for me to validate his initial complaints and solve the problem for him.  He wanted someone to join him in his misery and drama.

It reminds me a bit of the morning a week or two ago when I started the day stepping in a puddle from a leak under the sink that had spread across my kitchen and hall.

So it is just so refreshing to focus my energy on solving the problems that naturally come my way and then moving on.  Life is so much easier this way.  It's filled with so much more energy for joy.  It's peace.

The hypocrisy of accusing me of never being on his side

My sister shared with me that my ex-husband used to make digs at me, mocking me, joking about something I did he didn’t agree with, and then turn to her or her husband to see if they would laugh or react.  She remembers noticing it most when we hosted in our own home in Wisconsin.  My parents don’t recall hearing the comments but my sister thinks that is because he never made them in their presence.  She said I normally would just ignore it so she never knew if I really heard what he said, thus never knew how to bring it up to me.  The example my sister gave was me pouring myself another glass of wine.

He is a non-drinker and I know he didn’t generally like me drinking.  There were times he actually got me to question whether I had a drinking problem but then I would do a dry January or something where I easily cut out all alcohol for an extended period.  And when it all went downhill fast starting early last summer, I lost all interest in alcohol and cut it out for about four months.  So I don’t think it was me.  And even if it was, passive-aggressive comments mocking me in front of others wasn’t appropriate at all.

Hearing my sister share this with me hurt.  It adds to all the ways he tried to control me or intrude on pleasures I was enjoying.  And it shows me how hypocritical he was to so constantly accuse me of never being on his side when he so actively took a stance that was opposite me.

Halloween Costume

I don't know what prompted me to look at his Instagram account but I can't unsee that he dressed up as real life serial killer from Wisconsin, Ed Gein for Halloween.  That just seems really creepy and messed up to me.  It's one thing to lean into the fictional scary that is much of Halloween, but a real life serial killer?  What prompts someone to think that is an appropriate costume?  Or am I just so out of tune with Halloween?  I admit it never was my holiday.  It is really unsettling though.

Edited to add that after reading a little more about Ed Gein - it's even more disturbing now I that I have learned how obsessed Ed Gein was with his mom.  My ex's IG posted included this sentence, "The haircut was a big of a commitment, have gotten some funny looks lately, but mother approves" which seems an acknowledgment of the parallel.    

Oh how glad I am that I'm out of that relationship!

Intruding on life's simple pleasures

Clarity helps put the pieces together.  Things that made absolutely no sense last year as it was ending, now seem to fit into patterns I couldn't see before, even if I still don't understand the why.  And in some ways that is really freeing.  In other ways, it cuts deeper than ignorance ever could have.  

My optimism and rose colored glasses served me well in that they protected me and allowed me to find joy and peace in a situation where my very joy and peace were being constantly threatened.  And as much as I lost of myself in the marriage, the two things he never successfully took from me no matter how hard he tried were my peace and joy.  Maybe that's why he left - his misery never could compete with joy.

That's powerful isn't?  To be able to still hang onto joy and peace at some level even through a draining relationship.  And like I wrote in a blog post this morning, so many of my memories are those joyful or peaceful moments.  I recognize how much better off I am today (night and day difference) yet can acknowledge the good I found in the last two decades.

Therapy last night started with my talking about the moment of the shattered mug I wrote about earlier this week and in telling that story I made an off-hand comment about how he always complained about the mugs I brought home from our travels.  It was enough of a complaint to make me seriously think through the mugs I bought but not enough to make me stop buying them altogether.  

But why was he so against the mugs?  They were inexpensive and not a burden at all on our budget.  All my mugs put together don't even come close to adding up to the money we threw away on just one of his cars.  

We had the space for them and I always made sure our cabinets were organized in a way that fit his needs and preferences.  So it wasn't like they were in the way at all.

They were useful.  He even took a few in the divorce.  These mugs caused no harm to him.  He didn't actually gain anything positive by complaining.

As my conversation with my therapist continued on to more examples, I couldn't help but wonder if it was just one of many ways he was trying to take away from my joy in the simple pleasures of life.  

In the last year or two of our marriage, I really started to guard my Sunday morning coffee time.  I wanted time to sit at the counter top in our kitchen, sip a cup or two of coffee and read the Washington Post or scroll mindlessly.  That is when he decided he wanted us to clean on Sunday mornings.  There is no particular reason Sunday had to be our time to clean.  We were a couple without kids and no real social life living in an apartment - cleaning didn't take long and we had plenty of spare time.  

The more I held my own on this scared time to me, the more irritated he got.  If that was the time he wanted to clean, he could have done his part and left me mine to do later.  Or he could have chosen just about any other time throughout the week or weekend.  But he refused to do either.  He preferred to intrude on the joy I was finding in this simple routine I had developed, a routine that caused him no harm.

In hindsight, I suspect this was one of the ways I was finally trying to finally take some space for myself and he wouldn't accept that I needed space in the relationship too.

These are just but two examples of times he tried to interfere with my joy in a simple pleasure of life, things that caused no harm to him.

The pain is so sharp to realize he was trying to stop me from enjoying simple pleasures that had no consequences for him.  I spent two decades supporting all the little pleasures he enjoyed.  Even when there were consequences to me, I supported his pleasures.  It gave me joy myself to see him happy.  Yet he couldn't even let me enjoy a Sunday morning cup of coffee. 

Social Media Memories

Three and four years ago, we were cruising on the Celebrity Constellation, so my social media memories are filled with reminders of those two trips.

Four years ago, it was our first post-COVID cruise and the first post-COVID cruise for the Celebrity Constellation and all its crew.  This one was just my ex-husband and I.  We had upgraded to the Retreat and so had access to the suite amenities.  The enthusiasm of the crew to be back working again and the passengers to be back cruising again was infectious!  I remember tears of joy fell as I walked the gangplank to embark.

The Sommelier in Luminae was excited to open the first bottle of Cattier Champagne for me as we sat down to that first lunch.  He fashioned the champagne cap into a mini chair and left me that and the cork (to serve as a mini table) which I took home and have in my apartment still.

I look upon this cruise with nostalgia and although my ex-husband was physically present, my memories are of me and my experience.  I felt a sense of peace and freedom when I cruised, something I had really missed during COVID.  

Interestingly, my chronic pain would usually disappear on cruises and I always attributed it to the food and the fact that once you tell the staff of a dietary restriction, they don't let you cheat.  But I think my stress levels were also so much lower.  Maybe the monotony of his daily misery temporarily was paused or pushed to the back burner.  And I didn't have to manage the day-to-day of life for both of us.

Three years ago was our splurge cruise.  Prices were still low from COVID and so we snagged one of the two penthouses at a rate we could afford.  And then he convinced me we should also invite his mom.  So the three of us took this cruise.  The cabin itself was larger than our apartment with a dining room, living room, foyer, butler's pantry, bedroom, and two bathrooms.  The balcony was as large as our apartment and spanned half the back of the ship and wrapped around the corner.  His mom had the adjoining suite.  

In my memories, that trip feels like two trips in one, trips that were drastically contrasting to one another and yet all happening in the same space.  One part of that trip was marked by tension with his mom who was filled with criticism and negativity in all of our interactions (which fed into my ex-husband's negativity) and who on more than one occasion interfered with something I wanted to do.  And then the other part of the trip was one filled with solitude and peace.

One evening, I made reservations for them to go try a specialty restaurant I wasn't as interested in (an experience I knew would take hours) so that I could go eat in the suite dining room by myself.  I remember the wait staff expressing sadness that I was alone until I assured them I was quite content to dine by myself and then they gave me such incredible attention throughout the whole meal.  I finished the evening by finding a drink and some live music to enjoy.

I also discovered the balcony was a huge advantage because his mom hated the heat and humidity and even in November it was too hot for her.  So I had over a thousand square feet of the best view on the ship with lounge chairs, a dining table, and a hot tub all to myself!  I practically lived on that balcony that trip.  He and his mom mostly watched TV in the living room of our suite.

So I look on these social media memories mostly with a smile on my face.  Even the formal photos where his smile is brighter in the photo with his mom than it is in the photo with me, don't really trigger me.  They remind me of the ways I found peace and joy even in the middle of what I now realize was a pretty miserable marriage.  These memories are also evidence that the magic was always within me and really had nothing to do with him.  And because it has always been within me, I get to take it with me into this next chapter.  That's one thing I don't have to grieve.

Breathing in life's simple pleasures

Not quite ready to face the pain that surfaced in tonight's therapy session, I connected my phone to my bluetooth speaker, turned on a solo piano music playlist, poured myself a glass of my favorite rum, and sat down in my oversized chair with my notebook for a writing exercise that served as the mediation I needed tonight.

amber colored liquor

a fruity aroma

my fingers feel the shape of the glass

a rallentando

gently slows the pace

the fall after a rise of the melody

an even texture

caresses my skin

I sinker deeper into the chair

a slight chill 

wraps around me

the rich liquid I sip burns my nose and throat

a sweetness lingers

on my steady breath

the song accelerates with a moment of aggression

my pencil scratches

my mind quiets

seeking words only for this moment

I close my eyes

and savor another sip

finding simple pleasure in this evening

A shattered mug brings a sense of peace?

Yesterday morning, I dropped a ceramic mug filled with cold brew coffee.  It shattered.  Coffee splattered all over my kitchen and clothes.  I had a moment of irritation but then I grabbed an old towel and dragged the garbage can closer, cleaned it up, changed clothes, and made myself another cup of coffee.  As I sat down to breakfast, I realized this cleared space in an otherwise full cabinet for a new mug so I ran through my head the cities and countries I would be visiting in a few weeks.  All my mugs are from places I have visited - each a memory of a different trip.

Since that shattered mug yesterday morning, I've felt a sense of peace and calm that had been missing in the last week or so.

I don't know if it is just coincidence of timing or if the quiet act of cleaning up the pieces to make room for something new flipped a switch in my brain.  Regardless, it's nice symbolism for the work I've been doing. 

Day 35

Day 35 of the government shutdown - today we match the number of days of the previous longest shutdown.  And I'm not optimistic it will end today so tomorrow we will forge into a new record, although I'm not sure this is exactly the kind of record to be proud of.

The last one seems so long ago.  It was only seven years ago but I feel like I have lived several lifetimes since then.  And I don't even really remember the person I was then.  

I remember the days going so slowly as I made that commute into work every single day to a mostly empty office.  I got pulled into a disastrous project for another division that was just mindlessly monitoring processes on multiple computers that ran 24/7 for several weeks.  I remember my colleagues just occasionally popping in to take care of the few excepted matters our division handled.  They had stories of their house projects, day trips, etc.  One or two really struggled financially but most were just enjoying free time off.

I remember leaving the house each morning to my now ex-husband sitting in his easy chair with his feet up.  He got the entire 35 days off, wasn't even allowed to log into his work computer that entire time.

There are so many time periods in my marriage (this being one of them) where I have no recollection of the feelings, tone, vibe, atmosphere, etc.  I can objectively remember what was going on but I couldn't tell you if this was a good, bad, or neutral time in our marriage.  I don't know if I was just existing or if I have suppressed memories.

Then a couple days after the government reopened, I experienced my first southern snow day.  I have more vivid memories of that snow day than I do of the entire shutdown, although I can’t picture him in my memories of that day but he had to have been by my side, we were always together and it was a snow day for him too.  The courts made the call to close before noon the day before in anticipation.  I admit I shook my head when they made that call because the temperatures in that moment were almost 70*F so I thought it very unlikely temperatures would drop enough overnight to create snow or even ice.  The day turned out to be a clear, sunny day in the 50s.  And while everyone else had just had over a month off, this was a much needed day off for me!

So where was I going with these wandering reminders of a similar time years ago? I don’t know.  I think as this drags on without an end in sight, I feel stuck in limbo.  Someone today referenced the twilight zone.  I have the confidence, resilience, and underlying joy this time to navigate these uncertain times with more intention and grace.  But I also feel the loss of human connection to be working in such an empty office and going home to an empty apartment.  And I feel frustrated to have a potential move to Atlanta completely put on hold.

Furthermore, as my mind reflects back to the previous shutdown, I’m surprised by the lack of emotion in my memories from that time.  It leaves me wondering what I truly did experience in the marriage.