An evening scooter ride

Last night, around 8:15 p.m., I felt restless, so I put on my sandals and pulled out my scooter from the closet where I had stashed it the day before after bringing it back from Birmingham.  In front of my complex, there is a bike lane separated from traffic by barriers that runs parallel to the sidewalk.  It didn't look too overrun with electric scooters so I entered it, picked up my feet and propelled myself forward.

It was downhill as I headed east and so I really picked up speed.  Oh, how I flew with the wind in my hair and the colors of the sunset streaking the sky!  The initial downhill was enough to propel me up the rolling uphill section that came next.  Then I reached the beltline.

I headed north and kept going until my legs got tired and the sky had turned dark.  The trail was active as I passed and was passed by walkers, dog owners, children, bikers, and electric scooters.  I received a number of smiles from people which I assume were because here I was a grown woman on a kick scooter.  The only other kick scooter I saw all night was a girl about 8 years old.

When I reached a point where it seemed to end after I had gone through a pretty cool tunnel under I-85, I stopped to see where I was and estimated I was between 3 and 4 miles from home.  I recalled how much of that ride had been downhill so expected the return would be a workout so I turned around.  I reflected on the fact that not once had I needed to cross or enter traffic!  I now live somewhere that I can go this far on protected bike lanes and paths.

As I retraced my route, I would get occasional glimpses of the skyline, lit up for the night.  It took my breath away.

There was a stretch of that last half mile where the hill was a bit steep and so I walked to rest my tired muscles.  By the time I walked in the door of my apartment, I was drenched in sweat and exhausted but I felt so alive.  It was so good to get back out on my scooter.  Maybe I'm not quite ready to retire it.

It's a long story

Only a few of questions into dinner with a brand new potential friend last Tuesday night, I was asked how I got to Birmingham (after learning I am originally from the midwest).  My response was "it's a long story" and we easily moved on to other topics although later I did circle back with a little more information.

The question brought up the same hesitations I have felt every time I've been asked "Why Atlanta?"  I don't know why I hadn't anticipated these questions and thought about what I wanted people to know.

For the last two years, my healing from the divorce became part of the fabric of my relationships.  The separation and divorce was still so fresh there was no way to separate it from me.  All my friends in Birmingham watched all of that in real time.  Even acquaintances walked pieces of that story with me.

Now, two years later, it isn't central to my life anymore.  One of the benefits of this move was to help further decentralize it as I start completely fresh.  Not that I'll claim to be fully healed but it's time and I feel ready for this next phase.

And honestly, I'm tired of being admired for how I overcame something so incredibly shitty.   I want to shift the focus to who I am, not what I have overcome.  So I have been struggling a bit to find the words that still feel authentic but facilitate that shift.

My supervisor approached me on Friday.  The woman I had dinner with on Tuesday is friends with her and connected with her about our dinner.  I don't know all of what was shared between them about me but my supervisor seemed most interested in all the activities I was getting involved in here in Atlanta.  So maybe I found the right balance on Tuesday night of focusing on the here and now and who I am without completely ignoring how I got here.

And my answer about "Why Atlanta?' continues to evolve.  Some of my earliest responses focused on the promotion and the bigger city.  Other times I kept it more vague that there were a lot of reasons.  And then last weekend, I responded to someone with a simple statement of needing a new start.  They had specifically asked about a job so I clarified that there also was a job but that it was really about a new start.  And it felt like the most authentic answer.

This morning I'm going back to the ELCA Lutheran Church I visited last weekend.  After church today they have a fish fry and fellowship opportunity that will give me a chance to sit down and talk to congregation members.  I'm sure these same questions will come up and I might hesitate at times on how to answer as I continue to evolve and figure out what feels most authentic.  But I think what I need to do is just keep getting out there.  The people who are meant to truly connect with me won't care what words I use and all the rest of the people I talk to will be good practice as I figure out this next chapter.

A trip to Birmingham

I drove to Birmingham and back today.  It was the first time I did this trip in reverse.  It was weird heading west in the morning with the sun behind me instead of watching it rise in front of me.  And I was unsure of what to expect of my feelings.  I was returning to a place that had once been my home, my landing space to heal and process after the abrupt end to my marriage.  But it was no longer my home.

When I arrived it felt like time had stood still.  Four full weeks had passed and nothing had changed despite the fact that I felt like a different person.  I paused at the EV charger parking spots to find them all full, only one car actually plugged in, one full unit off, likely from a blown circuit because someone didn't adjust the volts when they plugged in.  As I made my way up to the fifth level of the parking garage, I passed the pile of ashes in the parking spots blocked with caution tape from the cars that had burned six weeks ago.  

A train passed on the tracks as I parked.  Believe it or not, I had actually forgotten about the trains.

I made my way to my old apartment and unlocked the door.  The chaos of my last moments before heading off to Atlanta to start my new chapter met my eyes as I took it all in.  I didn't know where to start so I set my stuff down and walked back out the door, locking it behind me.

I made my way to Railroad Park.  I wondered if the people I passed every day had noticed my absence.  Then I came across that older man I had met in the last couple months before I left.  He had his camera and was focused on an adult Green Heron.  He was surprised to see me knowing I had moved.  We chatted for a bit and then went our separate ways.  I made a loop, hoping to spot one of the juvenile Green Herons.   I listened to the call of a Killdeer and wondered if it had successfully nested and raised any young this year.  They are such strange birds in the way they lay their eggs in the middle of activity - on a pathway, in the middle of a grassy field where children play, etc.

Eventually, I found my way back to my apartment.  I had work to do even if I didn't have the motivation.  So I started filling baskets and boxes, putting them on my cart and taking them out to my car, load by load.    With almost all my stuff out aside from cleaning supplies, I was losing motivation so I opened the fridge and freezer and found a couple items I could salvage before throwing the rest in a garbage bag and hauling it down to the trash chute.  

I searched my phone for lunch ideas.  Was there anywhere I would really miss that I wanted to savor one last time?  And then I thought of Wasabi Juan's which happens to be a block from the downtown superchargers where I could charge my car up while I ate.  I had yet to find a restaurant in Midtown that serves sushi burritos and had my doubts I would find one so I saw this as my last chance.

Then when my car finished charging and my sushi burrito had been eaten, I watched Birmingham in the rearview mirror as I headed east.  And now I have more stuff to find space for in my new apartment.  I'm sick of unpacking and I'm dreading the last trip back to Birmingham to clean and turn in the keys.

Karma

Something prompted me to look at my ex-husband's IG account today.  It's been six months or more since I've clicked on his profile so I'm not sure what prompted me today.  Maybe it was a nudge from karma to remind me how important it is to treat people right and do the work on yourself to try and make yourself right with the world.

They celebrated the one year anniversary of their first date.  Less relevant to this post, that clarified the timing of their relationship for me.  She posted on the Facebook group before she met him in person for the first time, which is common when people meet someone online.  They had their first date on the 4th of July.  (Oh, that brings back memories of our first 4th of July together - one of our very earliest dates, but I won't go down that tangent.). And before that week ended, she was already sleeping over at his apartment.

Maybe I'm judgmental, but in today's dating world and the risks to women, I can't imagine ever going to a man's apartment in the first week of meeting him.  And if I had teenage daughters at home depending on me to come home, I would be even more cautious.  So to me this just screams desperation and a lack of judgment.  

But that's not really what I want to talk about.  In the caption of his reel on IG, he shared some updates from the past year.  He shared that he suffered from shingles last year.  And then he shared that on their anniversary, he got a stomach bug that left him so dehydrated that he passed out and the paramedics had to be called.  That sounds like serious shit for someone only in their 40s.

When I got divorced, my health problems went away.  My chronic pain disappeared.  My digestion issues disappeared.  My body stopped holding onto weight.  And eventually after healing and moving on, my sleep has gotten better than it ever was before.  Every aspect of my life, including my health, improved exponentially.

When he got divorced, he visibly aged, got shingles, passed out from dehydration requiring medical intervention, and maybe more.

And when I looked at this post that was about their anniversary, he had a pained look on his face.  It was a familiar look that I didn't notice when we were married but I now see in so many of the photos that come up as memories.  He doesn't look happier.  He looks just as miserable as he always was.  And now that I've been gone for almost two years, he can't even blame me for his misery, although maybe he is still trying to.

How do I feel?  I think that is the most important question tonight.  Part of me thinks I should feel vindicated.  After all the pain he put me through, all the harm he caused, I feel like I should feel vindicated.  But I don't.  I don't need to be right.  I still wish we could have parted amicably and honestly.

The empathetic side of me thinks I should feel sad.  I've heard shingles is so incredibly painful.  And with multiple health episodes like this it probably indicates his new girlfriend is in for some caregiving in the future, caregiving that will be unlikely to ever be reciprocated.  But I don't even feel sad for them.  They are both adults who have freely made the decisions that have lead them to where they are now.

What I do really feel?  I view this just as information to process.  It's a mostly neutral feeling.  There's a curiosity about it all and why it happens and whether my ex realized chasing happiness doesn't diminish internal misery.  

And can I admit that there is just a little bit of relief.  I wonder if resentment would have built up quickly had I needed to step into a caregiver role this quickly after so many decades lacking reciprocity.  Maybe that means it is better someone without a history steps into that role.

And now that I'm done processing, I am going to play Tik Tok by Kesha over my bluetooth speaker.  The song plays in my head every day as soon as I step off the train to walk the last five blocks to my home.  I find myself dancing home.  I don't know what it is about this song but I'm starting to think subconsciously something is telling me I should make it my theme song of this new chapter.

A hummingbird and a Carolina Wren helped me exorcise his ghost

I don't know what led me here tonight but I was a the Atlanta Botanical Gardens for their Thursday evening Cocktails in the Garden event.  I was there for music, flowers, and a drink.  But when the flute and piano duo took a break, my feet lead me to the Perennial Garden.  I have always loved this garden for the diversity of its flowers.  And in this garden is a bench where my ex-husband would always sit, disappearing into his phone as he impatiently waited for me to take the photos I wanted to take.

He sat there so many times, I felt like his ghost remained.  I realized today that I, myself, had never actually sat on that bench.  And so I sat down and pulled out my journal and this is what I wrote.

"In honor of my beloved wife Diane Pennington"

A well worn bench,

uneven slates, seams coming apart,

covered in green and white lichen,

a plaque dedicating it to a beloved wife

Here, his ghost sits

head bent over

his phone in his hand

unreachable, far removed

I chuckle at the irony

a bench to remember a beloved wife

became an oasis of avoidance

of another wife's love

I sit down

the uneven curve of the seat

feels unfamiliar beneath me

I gaze out at the view

A hummingbird pauses briefly

joining my company

A Carolina Wren sings

as a breeze whispers

His absent presence fades

as colorful flowers, fragrance,

and a joyful melody

wrap me in an embrace

I sit a bit longer

breathing in, before moving on

A bit later, the clouds open up

drowning the last remnants of his ghost

A new friend

I had the most lovely conversation with a new friend today.  My new boss introduced her to me before I moved because she lives in the neighborhood I was looking to move into.  So we had a phone call after I accepted the job where she gave me all kinds of great advice.  She then encouraged me to reach out once I had moved.

And so that is what I did.  We met up at a casual Vietnamese place in our neighborhood that has really good food and talked.  The conversation flowed so easily.  We have so much in common.  And she's such an interesting person who seems so incredibly kind.  She said she would love to introduce me to some of her friends and we talked about doing dinner again soon.

I'm in awe at all the people I'm already connecting with after only being here a little over 3 weeks.

New chapter

I paused at my e-mail signature today.  My former (married) last name has never been associated with any part of that new signature.  I've gotten a promotion with a new title and moved offices so I have a new work address and phone number (and my e-mail changed after I changed my name).

This is truly a new chapter that is about me.

That's all I got for today.  I feel good.

Ludacris

Today was the World Cup finale - Spain against Argentina.  Atlanta was one of the host cities and even for the games they didn't personally host, they had FanFests and watch parties set up all over the city.  Today one of those watch parties was at Piedmont Park.  They set up three huge screens in different areas and then after the game, Ludacris performed on the main stage.

I'm not into soccer and I'm not into rap music but I had heard of Ludacris and this was the World Cup.  So I walked over just as halftime was finishing to catch the last half of the game and see if the concert would interest me.

That was the most unexpected fun I have ever had - the energy of the game and then the people watching as we all danced and sang.  Some of the lyrics were even repetitive enough that I could join in.  I stayed until he was clearly wrapping up.

I can't actually believe I went to a Ludacris concert and had a blast.  I don't recognize myself in moments like this!

To feel alive

About two years ago this past week, my ex-husband asked for a divorce.  He told me late on a Monday night and then left that Tuesday morning to spend two weeks with his mom which gave me two weeks to get myself together and make a plan.

On Friday of that week, I posted on Facebook the following:

I went for a walk to clear my mind and move my body. It look like it would rain but I was not deterred. I made it to the pavilion where the Friday night exercise class was ongoing when the skies opened up. The wind was in my face as I turned towards home, rain drops pelting my face and body.  At times the downpour was so heavy it obscured my view ahead. I turned my face towards the clouds and opened my arms and just received the nourishing rain.  I felt alive, maybe for the first time in a while.

That last sentence of that Facebook post tugs at my heart and puts me right back in that moment.  His decision to divorce freed me in a way I didn't understand in that moment.  It finally allowed me to release all the emotions that had been buried so deep.  It allowed me to finally put down his and pick up my own.  This rainstorm with its pelting rain and the way I leaned into it was a physical representation of it all.

I remember how that feeling of being alive was so intoxicating that I suspect it was part of the driving force behind some of the most incredible growth I've seen in myself since that moment.  I didn't want to just survive the divorce.  I wanted to feel alive again.

And that is a goal I can confidently say I have accomplished over and over again and hope I never lose sight of again.

Meeting people

I sat at a table at a restaurant today with four fascinating women I met on a walk.  We were continuing some of the deep conversations we had started as we walked this morning.  It all stems from a larger group where your entry ticket is a topic to encourage conversations that go beyond surface level.

We were talking about social media and how it affects people as they grow up.  A question was posed about how technology affected our childhoods.  The woman sitting across from me spoke up and said, "I might be the oldest one at this table.  I'm 42."  I spoke up that she was not the oldest but then leaned into what she had to say because she is my generation and we are a unique micro generation straddling both worlds.

I have to say I'm a bit surprised she assumed she was older than me.  I'm not usually the oldest in the room.  Although I do admit to feeling a bit old at work as I observe the enthusiasm of some of my younger colleagues.

But back to today, even with what I suspect are some age differences, I thoroughly enjoyed the conversations we had. It was so nice to meet other women and I even walked away with contact information for them.  I hope we get a chance to sit down again and talk.

Introverts and Extroverts

I have always understood the difference between introverts and extroverts to be how a person needs to recharge.  Introverts generally get depleted by social situations and need some alone time to recharge.  Extroverts get recharged in social situations.

Yesterday, my colleague shared with me an alternate definition that was a bit eye opening.  She explained that introverts and extroverts process differently.  Introverts need to close the door to others while they internally process.  Extroverts reach out to people to talk through their processing.  

I have always been an external processor.  I do best when I can find someone to talk through things.

If I search this blog, I find countless posts where I self-identify as an introvert.  It was an identity I had fully embraced for the first four decades of my life.  I will admit I hid from life behind this identity.  I think partly it was because my marriage had drained so much out of me that I had no energy for social situations.  I also think partly it was because I have always felt like someone who dances to the beat of her own drum and doesn't quite fit in anywhere so it became easier to just to create my own space by myself.

But then I regained my energy after the separation and divorce and started investing it in social situations that increasingly were rewarding.  I still hung onto that identity though and marveled at how well I was doing "as an introvert."

The turning point, I described in this entry.  In January of this year, I attended a birthday party for my extremely extroverted choir director who I think had invited the entire city.  The night started out at a table with church people I knew but as they left, I lingered and found myself deep in conversations with people I had just met that night.  

After several hours surrounded by people (most of whom people I didn't initially know), I walked out of there with more energy than when I had arrived.  I remember asking myself if I was wrong about being an introvert because an introvert would not have been energized by that situation.

I tested it out more at the church retreat in February and wrote about that experience here.  This is the first time the word "extrovert" shows up in my blog.  It might be the first time I put in writing that word as a potential identity for myself.  A weekend surrounded by people almost constantly energized me.

I still wrestled with the question of whether I had changed or whether I had misjudged myself from the very beginning.  I suspected I had always been extroverted but doubts still lingered.  How could I have been so wrong about myself?

And then this colleague yesterday shared with me that alternate definition that showed me how I had aligned with extroverts all along.

Comparing the move south to this move to Atlanta

I was reminded that eight years ago I was in Birmingham for the first time.  It's interesting to juxtapose who I was in that moment with the me that has now just spent her first three weeks in a whole new state completely solo.

I had been applying to jobs in cities across the south, mostly in cities I had never visited before.  I thought we were looking to escape the cold winters of the north but in hindsight I realize we were running from his mom.  I think deep down I knew that even in the moment.  I think I naively believed that distance would help the triangulation that was doing so much damage to our marriage.  For anyone reading this in a similar situation, it didn't help.  The uncut umbilical cord stretched across the country.  As I type that I realize what an incredible visualization that is.

Bur I was hopeful for a number of reasons.  We toured apartments.  We spent a couple nights in the suburbs and a couple nights right downtown.  And I interviewed for a different job than I would ultimately get.  While we were here, the job I actually wanted and would eventually obtain was posted so I remember spending some time in the hotel submitting my application.  I really liked the city going all the way back to that first visit.

I think there were doubts too that I tried to keep buried.  We had been in couple's counseling for some time before this.  And although he had convinced me that things were better, in hindsight I realize we never actually worked on the real issues of our marriage.  He wasn't open to any real reflection so me making myself smaller to fit what he was willing and capable of was all we truly accomplished.

But I believed a move would be good.  

Ultimately, that move didn't go so smoothly.  There were hiccups with the closing, hiccups with the storage unit we rented, movers that damaged our furniture, weather, etc.  And although I recall some excitement about a change of scenery, it was just another move in my mind.  We had done it multiple times before.  This wasn't the first time we were moving states although it was the farther we had gone.

Fast forward to today and the beaming smile on my face as I was handed my Georgia license plate.  I've been here three weeks and the high hasn't worn off yet, it's not even starting to fade.  I still pinch myself to make sure it is real.  I pull out the new driver's license that arrived this week to convince myself I'm really here.  And everything about this move has gone so incredibly smoothly.

And I'm enjoying every second of it all.  I have confidence.  I'm doing it all on my own!  I'm not just surviving, I'm thriving.  I'm no longer wandering aimlessly trying to fit into someone else's world.  I'm building my own world made just for me.  I finally matter.  And I love the person I've finally let loose, the woman who had been buried deep inside of me.

What a great day!

What a great day!  

First, yesterday at dinner, my waitress complemented my hair and called me Dora the Explorer.  That image has stuck with me all day today and I kind of like being compared to Dora.  I like her!

Second, my brand new sheets arrived yesterday and I washed them tonight and remade my bed with new sheets.  I've been wanting to get rid of the sheets that remind me of my ex-husband but I wanted to replace them with something that really aligned with me and it took some time to get that into my budget.  So I found this company that makes quality sheets out of organic cotton and uses fair trade practices.  Even the boxing of them felt sustainable.  I'm excited to see how they feel and I'm excited to support the company.

And the bamboo toilet paper I ordered arrived just a few minutes ago.   I feel like I'm turning into a hippie!  This is another sustainable product that even makes their shipping carbon neutral through offsets and they donate significant funds for toilets in countries that struggle with sanitation.  Instead of using plastic to wrap up all their rolls, they use a thin paper that they decorate with a fun design and saying.  I never thought I would get excited about toilet paper!

And at work, I found a way to say no when someone tried to suck me into something that I didn't want to do.  I was quite proud of myself.

But most importantly, I am contributing in meaningful ways at work and people are really expressing their appreciation.  One of the attorneys I work with today called me an MVP to my boss.  It feels so good to be able to contribute this quickly in a new job.

A physical sign it is all real

I got my driver's license in the mail today from my new state.  Tears formed in my eyes.  It's a physical piece of evidence that this is all real.  This isn't just a dream, a wish, a hope.  It's a leap I actually took to build something incredible.

Often as I walk the streets of my neighborhood or ride the train in to work, I marvel at the fact that I truly do live here now.  And I marvel at the woman I didn't realize I could be, the woman that was buried so deep all along and just needed to be let free.

I've moved a number of times in my life and as an adult have now lived in four different states but I don't ever remember a move being accompanied by this many emotions before.  I think that is because this move represents so much more.  It is not just a new job or a new change of scenery.  

It was an intentional decision that prioritized me for the first time in my life.  

It was a desperately needed reminder of what I am capable of.  I don't know how many times I've said to my mom over the last couple of years, "I didn't believe I could do it."  Every time she tells me how much she always knew I could.  There is a grief in realizing how much damage was done to my confidence during my marriage but a celebration in watching me build it back up.

It is a big step in finally finding alignment in my life.  I laugh when I think about the first small thing I did to better align myself.  As we were separating and ordering the things we would need to set up two separate households, I added to the cart reusable zip lock bags.  I had been thinking about them for quite some time but my ex-husband dismissed them every time.  

That was just the first of so many big and small changes I made in my routines, habits, interactions, etc. that moved me towards a life that feels so much more authentic to me and less like I am living someone else's life.  This move is (so far) the biggest step I have made towards alignment and it feels so right to be here.

This move was the result of a specific dream which is very different than every other major decision I made with my now ex-husband.  I'm not sure we ever truly knew what we wanted.  We just knew what we were escaping from, what we didn't want.  This time I had a specific job in mind and specific needs I wanted out of my new city.  I knew exactly the type of lifestyle I wanted to live and what a city would have to offer in order for me to build that lifestyle.  

And I knew exactly the type of workplace I needed to grow and meaningfully contribute to.  Although, I considered a few other options, I only applied to one position.  If this hadn't worked out, I would have pivoted but it would have been another intentional reflection on what would meet my needs and desires for my future.  It wasn't anything like our move south eight years ago when I applied to jobs in more cities and states than I can count (most of which were places I had never been), like I was throwing darts on a dart board to see which one would land.  

So it makes a lot of sense that this physical driver's license I received in the mail today would bring tears to my eyes as I reflected how I got here and what this all means to me.

Life went on without me and I went on without it

An e-mail came through today rescheduling a monthly meeting at my old office.  A strange feeling passed over me as I saw life go on without me.  I imagined my empty office at the end of the hallway, the people's offices I would no longer stop in to chat, the meetings I would never again participate in, etc.

The average person spends more waking hours at work than anywhere else to the point where life can sometimes revolve around it.  And I think we all have a bit of a self-centered view of our place in those spaces.  So it feels weird to look back and imagine not being a part of something that once was so central, something I felt so central to.  It's a bit of nostalgia and emptiness wrapped into one.

It echoes a feeling I've been having related to my marriage that I haven't been able to put to words.  Although it's really not the same at all because the space of my marriage no longer exists at all.   So it's not as if the marriage went on without me but maybe the fantasy of the marriage did.  So it leaves these weird feelings of nostalgia and emptiness of what I imagine could have been.

I wonder if I have felt this before but never stopped to acknowledge it.  I've been through many transitions in my life.  Many spaces that once were central moved on without me as I chose different paths or life forced me another way.

It's interesting though that there is no pull to go back, not even the slightest.  

I accidentally walked into the wrong church

I accidentally walked into the wrong church today.  I was walking down the street, knowing that I had to cut over a block soon, when between buildings I saw and steeple and drawn in by the church bells that rang from it.  As I got closer, I admired the pride flag hanging out front.  And so in my distraction, I didn't read the sign or check to make sure I was on the right street.  I just walked in, greeting people as I entered.  As I got into the entry area, it felt familiar and then I was handed a bulletin.

As I read the church name on the bulletin, I had a moment where I debated whether I could walk back out.  But I didn't.  I entered and found a seat in the pews and began to observe the people.  A man came up and introduced himself to me and welcomed me.  The associate pastor was making her way around and when she got to me, she recognized my face but asked me to remind me of her name.  She told me she was so happy I was there.

Then the service began.  When we got to the sermon, it focused on the Parable of the Sower and the play To Kill a Mockingbird (with a short dramatization to start the sermon) with the theme "When Justice Fails."  The associate pastor was really eloquent with a pretty powerful message.  And people stayed all the way to the end of the prelude instead of rushing out.

There was an ELCA Lutheran Church I had planned to visit and still plan to visit.  I grew up ELCA Lutheran so would like to see if the familiarity from my childhood might be nice.  And when I re-looked at their website this weekend, I found a strong affirming welcome message that I had missed when I had reviewed their website weeks ago.  Seeing that had built up some excitement about this church that I had initially been pretty dismissive about.

But I think today, I ended up where I did to encourage me not to rule out this United Methodist Church.  It was the first church I visited in Midtown, about two months ago, the weekend I got the keys to my new place.  And I although I really liked a lot about it after that first visit, I was hesitant about the demographics, which had kept it towards the bottom of my list of potential churches.  

It seems to draw a disproportionate number of gay men.  I don't have anything against gay men and I hope they are participants in whatever church I do join, it just didn't feel very diverse.  I feared there wouldn't also be enough people more like me that I might be able to connect better with and form lasting friendships with. Maybe that's a wrong assumption on my part that I should challenge, both as to the overall demographics of the church (considering its summer) and as to my ability to form lasting friendships with gay men.

So I guess I'm glad I accidentally walked into the wrong church.  It helped me realize I need to keep this UMC one higher on my list of potential churches.

Meeting new people

What is happiness to you?
What brings you peace?

What is one belief you held for a long time that you recently changed?

What were you built for and what were you trained for?

This morning I participated in a Board Walk.  It's a five mile walk at a conversational pace where everyone is asked to bring a topic.  These questions above were some of the topics brought up by some of the women I met today.  The conversations that flowed from these topics were so intriguing and had so much depth to them.  The stories they told were inspiring.  I can't wait for the next walk.  I hope to get to see some of the same people again but I would also enjoy meeting and talking to more people.  They have these walks almost every Saturday morning.

After a such a great morning meeting new people, I continued the momentum and signed up for two other groups.  There is a monthly book club that meets a few blocks from my apartment and August's book looks especially intriguing.  Polls are up for the fall book selections and from that, it appears that they read all kinds of genres and subject matters so it will expose me to some new stuff and get me reading more regularly.  Plus, it will be another place to meet people who enjoy deeper conversations.

And then for something a bit more lighthearted, I signed up to be placed on a bocce ball team for the late summer league.  

Intentional Choices in My Apartment

I took advantage of the opportunity to be more intentional with this apartment.

When I moved into my last apartment, it was rushed.  Decisions were made in the height of high emotions.  I lacked clarity on what was happening.  I was in survival mode.  I still did a pretty fabulous job with that apartment.  I loved the view and the space and I managed to keep all the personal possessions that meant the most to me.  I remember looking around my apartment and seeing very little that reminded me of my ex-husband.

But this time I have clarity and had the time to be more intentional.  And before I made decisions, I stopped and thought about whether it was aligned with me or whether it was a habit carrying forward from a past life.  It was only through that process that I realized some little things from my ex-husband I had unknowingly carried with me.

So last weekend, when I laid out all my photos, paintings, and other wall decorations, I paused.  My ex-husband would have categorized them and lined them up, measuring to make sure everything was perfectly in line, symmetrical, and carefully spaced.  But there is nothing symmetrical and orderly about me.  That was him, not me.

So instead, I picked up one I wanted to be a focal point, grabbed a hammer and nail, and hung it up on at eye level one wall.  From there I randomly added pieces going outward, mixing medias, subject matters, artists, etc.  And I continued until everything had been hung up.  I think it looks absolutely amazing (even the birch painting I did that seems to tilt no matter how much I try to straighten it!).

As I organize things in my kitchen, I don't worry as much about stacking different sized plates on top of each other, a pet peeve of his.  Instead I think about what I am going to use most frequently and want most accessible and that means some stuff is going to get stacked.

My rocks!  I don't have to hide them in a corner.  I've found prominent places for each of them.  One is my stepping stool to close the blinds in the evening, the cold hard stone beneath my feet a moment of grounding as I end my day.

And I just ordered sheets, quality, sustainable sheets in colors that will bring me joy along with a new blanket to get rid of the red one I hate that he picked out years ago.

These might all seem like really little things but they make the space feel so much more authentically me.

Meaningful work

There is a learning curve when you land on a team at a new job in the middle of a case.  They don't know me.  I don't know what they expect.  I don't know what boundaries haven't been communicated yet.  I don't yet know where I fit.

It creates some anxiety for me as I second guess my skills.

We are interviewing a witness for a case on Monday.  The team involves not only my office but state agencies across the country.  My attorney was on vacation this week.  I just met him last week.

As I have been getting up to speed on the case, there was an angle I wanted to look closer at because I wasn't sure my team understood it well and I thought it might be important for Monday's witness interview.  I did my analysis.  I checked it repeatedly, tweaked the wording and formatting, and turned it over and over in my head to make sure I hadn't missed something important.

Then I hesitated.  I would have preferred running it by my attorney first but he was on vacation and wouldn't be back until Monday.  I wanted the woman preparing for the interview to have this information before then.

So I held my breath and hit send on the e-mail to the whole team.

Would they understand it?  Had I fully grasped the concept myself?  Would it be helpful?  Did I cross any boundaries proactively doing this analysis?

I messaged my counterpart in Wisconsin about how I was feeling.  He told me that he still has moments of doubts like that even after all the years he has been doing this.  It made me feel less alone.

Then this evening as I was starting to get ready for bed, I picked up my work cell phone.  (The phone I have been swearing at for the last week and a half because it feels like an intrusion in my home!)  I thought I had gotten better about leaving it alone but something suggested I pick it up.

There was a notification of an e-mail from the woman leading the interview.  She was so appreciative.  It appears my analysis provided some clarity that had been missing.  I think it will guide the questions she asks so that we perhaps will get better information.

What a day this was!  On another case, I sat down with my supervisor about a project she wants me to do.  She thinks about these cases in ways that really intrigue me.  

With another colleague, I participated in a team call and volunteered to take on a project that I think will be really helpful.

It feels so good to be surrounded by so much meaningful work and to be finding ways to contribute already.

A pleasant twist to the day

The streets were a bit busier this morning as I headed into work.  The train was a bit more crowded.  I watched a group of Argentina fans carrying flags around their shoulders like capes pause to dance to their reflection in a window.  Even downtown wasn't so eerily quiet as it usually is at the early time I normally go in.

I had a passing thought that today was probably a telework day no one had told me about.  They gave us a telework day last week for a World Cup game.  Some of the offices on my floor look out directly on the stadium.

Nevertheless I entered my building, passed by security, and made my way to my office.   As I expected, no one else showed up.  Well, maybe not no one.  I heard someone come around the corner and fill up their water cup so obviously, someone else was on the other wing of my area.  And in the last hour, my office neighbor stopped in.  But that was the extent of my interactions with people today.

I thought about going home but then I realized that my office window looked out onto a street that had plenty of activity.  The police closed off a portion of the road for a while and fans in the colors of Egypt filled the space across the whole way, carrying a large Egyptian flag, almost like an unofficial parade.  There were plenty of Argentina colors as well, in smaller groups.  It was kind of neat to see.

I also got a lot of work done in the quiet with the benefit of both my computer monitors, probably even more than if I had tried to work off my tiny laptop screen at home.  I need to get a dongle or something so I can actually use my monitor at home on those rare telework days.

And then I made my way home.  The game was over by then.  The largest crowds had already dissipated but there were still a lot of people around and so the train was packed with standing room only, even with how frequently trains were coming.  People who had been to the game, people leaving work, friends going out, all kinds of unique people speaking various languages were together, riding the same train.  There is so much beauty in the diversity of this city.

So on a day when I could have dwelled in frustration that no one told me I could have stayed home, I truly enjoyed myself.

A dream and a fear

I had a dream last night.  I was talking with a friend and my ex-husband's girlfriend was present.  She didn't speak but she appeared to be listening.  I talked to my friend about how he put on such an act to get me attached in that first year or two.  It was a very brief dream, just a tiny snippet of a conversation.

It's interesting that as my healing progressed, I had less and less conversations in my head with my ex-husband about the things I wanted to tell him and switched to conversations with her and all I would say to warn her.  I'm not sure any of those conversations truly had anything to do with either of them.  I think they were more a way for me to process.

So what was last night's dream really about?

I have spent my life trying to be an authentic, honest person.  I won't say I've always gotten it right but I would truly horrified if I learned that my actions deceived or manipulated another.  With that perspective, I spent the first four decades of my life naively and innocently believing other people were like me, especially the people I had chosen to surround myself with.

Now that I have come to realize the man I married, loved, and trusted the most was neither honest nor authentic, that innocence is gone.  In its place is a fear of being deceived again.  And I so wish there was some way to get a warning so that I could avoid that kind of heartbreak again.

I'm not letting that fear get in the way of going out into this world and building something beautiful.  But it still lingers in the back of my mind and I wonder how it will play out should I ever meet someone I want to get romantically involved with.

Ways I'm going to try to make connections

I signed up for a five mile deep conversation walk next Saturday morning.  This isn't a fitness walk.  It's an intentional way to converse with others in small groups with a natural way to move between conversations.  The instructions say to bring a topic.  

We supposedly start out in a circle before the walk introducing ourselves and sharing our topics.  That way you can gravitate towards conversations that interest you.  They emphasis this isn't small talk about the weather or what everyone does.  It's a way to engage and connect with others on deeper topics.

It really intrigues me.  It's a little intimidating too.  I so often feel so socially awkward.  Maybe we all do.  I think it will be fun though and maybe it will be the start of some friendships.  They do these walks every Saturday so if it goes well, it's something I can join in on with more frequency.

The other thing I came across this weekend is a social Bocce Ball league.  They have a seven week late summer season starting in August at the park next to me.  We used to have a bocce ball set.  Maybe my ex took it in the divorce or maybe it didn't survive one of our earlier purges.  Regardless, I think I would enjoy it and it could be another way to meet people.

Tomorrow I'm going to try out another church, an Episcopal church this time.  I hope the experience is better than last week's experience at a Presbyterian church.  This church is also the host for a secular community choir that I want to check out.

This evening, I think I'm going to go watch one of the World Cup games at Colony Square, an outdoor mall with a lawn and lots of food and drink options.  It looks like Paraguay is playing France.  I haven't caught any of the games this year yet.  I'm not a huge soccer fan but I think it would be really good to get out around other people and it would be fun to catch at least one game.

My apartment

I worried a bit (unreasonably, I realize) that there was a magic of my first post-separation apartment that I wouldn't find in my next ones.  My first post-separation apartment was my first time ever living alone.  It was my first chance to make things all about me.  It was a bit strange to have that experience in my 40s but it was my reality.

I loved that space so much - the Carolina Wren that sang outside my window for those first months, my oversized chair looking out on the trains and brewery, the location and the way I could just put my shoes on to get myself out into the city, etc.  It was a home like I had never experienced before.

How could any future space compare to that?

I'm very happy to say that things could only get better from there.  I just love the space in my new apartment.  This afternoon, I found myself dancing around the living room as smooth jazz music played and I worked to unpack a few things.  I smiled so brightly when I cleared more boxes out of the closet and could visualize how everything seems to fit just right.

And the apartment has some upgrades I'm really enjoying - soft close drawers, smart locks and thermostat, a stove that appears to be completely flat, more bathroom storage, and just a little more space in all the ways that matter.  Plus, the neighborhood is more than I could have dreamed of.

I just need to get all my photos hung up on the walls.  Maybe that will be tomorrow's goal.

Selfies

I took a selfie this evening and when I reviewed it, I saw that my expression was one that seemed to say "not another!"  I take a lot of selfies these days.  They are intentional.

It started in that first week when my ex-husband asked for a divorce.  I was sitting in the parking lot of an attorney's office ready to walk in for a consultation.  Something inside of me encouraged me to document that specific moment.

I know that sounds weird.  In one of my very lowest moments, here I was taking a picture of myself.  There was something in me that knew I had quite a journey ahead of me and wanted to watch the growth.

So I'm okay if occasionally a selfie comes out a bit annoyed.  In the grand scheme of things, it demonstrates a life well lived and a woman who found herself again.

So here are a few of those selfies at key moments.  This does not by any means represent the whole time period but these are some moments that were pretty impactful.

July 23, 2024 - Just before I met with my divorce attorney for the first time.

October 9, 2024 - The "oh shit! what have I done!" feeling as I arrived in Manhattan for the first solo trip

November 30, 2024 - as I learned a lot about my car.

June 18, 2025 - The cleansing rain that started my family trip without him on the ship where I had been married 20 years earlier.

June 27, 2026 - Freedom and peace!  The day I moved to Atlanta.

Today's selfie, with the annoyed look