My Husband Costed a Lot of Money

I'm going to talk about the taboo topic of money.  And I preface this by saying I know I am privileged to have a decent paying job that takes away the worries so many have.  But money at whatever level is still a worry when you first separate after enjoying the benefits of a dual income household.  

I'm coming up on 12 months of managing my own finances.  I've got a head for numbers, had done our joint taxes a number of times in the early years of our marriage, and stayed aware of our finances despite letting him do most of the managing.  So I wasn't overly worried about taking on this task by myself.  

But I was a little worried about how far my salary would go alone.  My salary made up only about 37% of our combined income.  And living together allows you to share so many expenses so I knew my costs would be far more than half what we were currently paying.

So as I do every month especially, I go over what I spent and earned, what I have left over, and make decisions about whether to move money anywhere to maximize interest I could be earning and be prepared for the first of the month expenses.  And I often use this time to think further and do longer-range planning.

I've been learning about high yield savings accounts, making sure I understand the funds my retirement and HSA are invested in, and this week's research has been into mutual funds in non-tax deferred investments as I think through my entire saving, investing, and spending plan.  It's all quite fascinating and empowering.  I'm really learning a lot about myself through the process.  And I am amazed at how far my money goes when it is budgeted and managed in line with my values alone.

What makes me really pause though is that what I have accomplished in the last year would not have been possible with the amount of money we were spending on cars and with the way he was managing things.  He was more expensive than I ever thought he was.  And it's not that I didn't realize we were throwing a lot of money away to change cars so frequently.  I knew that.  I just didn't quite understand the extent to which it was affecting our bottom line.  

I also am seeing now that despite his degree in accounting, he didn't have the vision to make the most of our money.  He was responsible with money.  He never spent more than we had.  We both prioritized retirement so didn't cut corners there.  So I never had any complaints while we were together.  But I realize now that he wasn't looking at the bigger picture.

It makes me further question the imbalance in our relationship, although more on a curiosity level at this point.  I don't think any real harm came from this specific imbalance or his lack of vision.  And being able to see it so clearly now along side my incredible success on my own this past year boosts my confidence in a way it otherwise wouldn't have and makes me so much more excited to see what I can do with my future.

Unconditional Positive Regard

My therapist has used the term "unconditional positive regard" to describe the amount of grace I have extended to my ex-husband and the rose colored glasses view I have had of him for so many months post-divorce.  She has watched the evolution in me as I have processed and started to heal.  I think when we first started working together towards the beginning of the year, I was still talking very highly of him with little negative.  Bit by bit, I've gained clarity.  And seeing myself in his new girlfriend a little over a week ago was really impactful and likely a turning point.

So tonight she asked me whether my unconditional positive regard was starting to fade.  I found it interesting that I didn't automatically say yes.  I paused.  I said, "I don't like him very much anymore."  And then I went on to say that I no longer assume he had good intentions.  I feel like that last statement reflected something new in me, something I had not yet (until that moment) been ready to say out loud.

A big part of my unconditional positive regard was this assumption that he didn't mean it, that he didn't intend to hurt me in the ways he did.  I had every excuse ready on the tip of my tongue for why he behaved the way he did.

I'm sure I held onto that assumption for so long because I didn't want to believe that the man who promised to love me forever would intentionally cause me harm.  I didn't want to face the fact that I could have been that wrong about someone.  I didn't want to believe that someone I had given so much to could be that cruel to me.

That's not to say I'm going to sit here and try to parse out his intentions.  They don't actually matter.  But I do know that he chose to ignore the impact his actions were having on me.  He chose to stay in a relationship he wasn't willing to invest in.  He chose not to communicate with me.  He chose to misunderstand me.  He chose to silently hold onto resentments for years.  And he chose to lay all the blame on me.

So, yes, my unconditional positive regard is absolutely fading.  And maybe my hesitation to automatically name that tonight was that I fear when it is gone, I will no longer understand what I saw in him in the first place.  But maybe that speaks more to how far I have come and how much I have grown, to the point where I struggle to recognize the girl I was over two decades ago.

I miss the illusion that he was on my side

As the news this week hit closer to home, I woke up this morning missing the belief that I had someone in my corner, by my side to face life.  For one brief moment, I missed him.  That was one of the weaker illusions I convinced myself of in my marriage though.  He didn't hide very well where his priorities lay.  

I can still hear his voice and the countless times he told me, "You're never on my side."

I felt alone in those moments because the accusation came at times I was thinking of "us" while he was just focused on "me" (as in himself).  His mother even ganged up on with him once after he (likely at her urging) had called one of our financial institutions to complain about something and agreed to arbitration in a scenario where I didn't think we had a leg to stand on.  When I discovered what they had done while I was out, I was not immediately supportive and had a lot of questions (so I could understand the extent of the damage that might have been done).  She accused me of not standing by my man while he sat there silently.

It came up other times when I wouldn't agree he was right to drive aggressively as I feared for our safety.  Or when he wanted to buy another car and I was concerned with the impact on our finances and the impact on me physically in having to go through the draining process so frequently.  

I remember another time when he wouldn't stop complaining about the dog barking in the courtyard.  I had listened to his complaints.  I had empathized with him.  I had walked the apartment complex to figure out which apartment it was coming from and I had reached out to the apartment management to make a complaint.  But the complaining still wouldn't stop and it was a heaviness on me that drained me even more than normal.  So I told him I couldn't keep listening to the complaining and tried to change the subject and then remove myself from the area.  That is another time he accused me of never being on his side.

In conversations years later, it came up that he didn't feel I was on his side when he was applying for a law enforcement job that would have moved us around the country often, disrupting my career and kept us apart frequently as he traveled and worked long hours.  My simple desire to talk about what it would look like and how we would manage that big of a change in our relationship was enough for him to claim I wasn't on his side.  What frustrates me now is that I never even got that conversation, yet I still took concrete actions to support him.

Why did my needs or the needs of our relationship not matter in those moments?  He was accusing me of not being on his side while simultaneously himself not being willing to consider my side or even the side of our relationship.  The burden of looking out for us rested heavily on me and required me to be willing to speak up and push back against his self-focused views.  In reality, I never had a partner who was willing to face the world with me.  He may have been physically by my side and sometimes what he wanted may have aligned with what I wanted (helping me maintain the illusion) but he wasn't really working with me.  

So I may miss his physical presence from time to time (and the illusion that he was standing by my side) but all I've really lost in the divorce in this sense is someone who fought against my best interests.  I no longer have to spend energy monitoring his decisions and pushing back when it seemed against our best interests.

Last year, he accused me of being too strong.  That's because I could never relax and trust him to have my back.  I didn't have someone to lean on and share the burden of facing life's challenges.  I couldn't even trust that he wouldn't work against what was best for us.  I had no choice but to be strong.

Last year, he also told me he wished I would just agree with him instead of asking questions about the things he wanted to do.  He wanted me to unquestioningly trust his judgment.  Maybe if he had demonstrated he was considering what was best for me and our relationship in addition to his own needs and wants, I could have stepped back more.

So as the uncertainty of next week weighs on me, I'm going to lean into my reclaimed energy and joy now as I continue to face the world alone but without having to battle a partner who doesn't consider me.  I'm going to continue to dance in the rain and stomp in the puddles - what a metaphor that is for the way I have been facing the significant challenges of this year!

Symbols of me and my growth

Early last August, not long after he started talking to divorce attorneys, I ordered myself a ring.  I wanted to have something that would represent me and my journey and I worried it would be hard to take my wedding ring off when the time came - I thought having a "me" ring to focus on would help that.  So found this beautiful silicon, copper colored ring with etchings of the sun rising over the mountains.  It reminded me of how even after a night of darkness, the sun always rises.  I have put it on my finger every day over the past year and probably will continue to wear it until it wears out.

So this week as I celebrate my first anniversary of living on my own (with the anniversary of my divorce coming up next month), I thought I needed another ring.  Something to represent this next stage in my journey.  So I ordered one that spoke to me of the joy and included my favorite flower, the daisy.  Today it arrived.

These both are quite inexpensive rings but they are incredibly meaningful and they continue to remind me of the ways I have overcome and found a way to thrive even amidst challenging times.

A call from Atlanta

Yesterday afternoon, I sat at my desk at work when my desk phone rang.  It never rings so it startled me a bit.  And then I saw a 404 area code which I thought might be Atlanta.  My resume had my personal cell number which is the number HR had previously used when contacting me about the job I had applied for and I didn't recall giving them my direct line at work (although I'm in the directory).  But something still told me this was about the job.

When I picked up the phone and answered, the Civil Chief identified herself.  She told me how impressed they were with me and that it had been a really tough choice but that they had chosen the candidate from her office.  She went on to mention how much she enjoyed our conversation about claims data from the interview - a conversation that had left me flustered as I tried to recall the specifics of an analysis from more than four years ago.   She said she hopes they will post the second position soon, and to look for it if I was interested.  Then she paused as if my response to that mattered.  I told her, "yes, absolutely" so she encouraged me to apply again and said that she hopes she gets to work with me.  

I thanked her for calling me and expressed my own hopes that I get to work with her and her team in the future.  And then the call ended.

Despite it being a rejection call, it was by far the nicest call I had ever had in any sort of job search process and really meant so much that she took the time to make it.  And it only reinforced my feelings that Atlanta is a place I would thrive.

I expected this outcome (although not the personal call).  She had already told one of my references that they were seriously considering a candidate in their office and had tried to feel out my reference as to how likely it was that I would apply to a second posting.  And so I had already come to terms with the fact that I wouldn't get this first position and felt good about it because I see it as an opportunity to have just a little more time in my current city.

It's interesting though, my desire for a little more time has evolved quite a bit.  In early August when this was first posted, I was overwhelmed with the idea of moving on my own to a city where I knew no one, maybe even a bit panicked.  I had not anticipated such an opportunity would come up anytime soon.  But with time, my excitement has completely overcome the fear.  That's not to say I won't have moments of fear if/when things get more real but overall, I just see how good this would be for me.  

So now, my desire for more time isn't so I can come to terms with this change.  I see the opportunity of more time as a chance to lean more into the community I have built and enjoy the city I love before I move on to this next chapter.  And as these relationships still continue to evolve and grow, I can now see the ways I will continue those connections even when there is physical distance between us.

So I feel really good.  And I don't feel like this was a door closing.  I feel like this was a message of not yet.  Even if Atlanta never pans out, I know I will be ready when the right opportunity does present itself.

Friends

There were five us at table 40, the perfect table the way it was a bit secluded from the action of the rest of the restaurant.  Only one couldn't make it, and not because she didn't want to - she is the one I am probably closest too and has been one of my biggest supporters.  She just has a lot on her plate in life and last night didn't work out for her.  We'll get together one-on-one for lunch in the next week or two.

One brought me flowers.  Another bought appetizers for the table.  Another insisted on paying for the third bottle of wine even though I had told them the wine was my treat.  Really good conversation flowed freely as we celebrated life together.  We laughed.  We hugged.  And we stayed so long that we closed the place down.  A couple of them followed me back to my apartment when I offered a tour before we split ways.

I'm in awe of how far I have come in a year and how many amazing people have been walking alongside me through it all.  And last night's group of women aren't the only friendships I've been building.  I have another group of women from church and other individual friendships that are really dear to me.  

It blows my mind when I think about the very limited friendships I had over the first four plus decades of my life, how much I let my ex-husband be my social network for the last two decades.  I suppose there is a little grief at what I missed out on but until this past year I wasn't the person I needed to be in order to be receptive of these kinds of friendships.  These specific people also had not yet walked into my life.  So really I’m just incredibly grateful for the new life I’ve been given that is allowing me to connect on a deeper level with great people around me and the world as a whole.

I didn't know how lonely I was in the marriage until I was lonely alone

Understanding Loneliness

Dauphin Island
sand stuck to my skin
the sun scorches
laughing gulls highlight the silence
In loneliness I found presence

3 AM
sheets tangled as I toss
the other side cold and empty
exhaustion finally conquers
In loneliness I found rest

A Cruise Ship Balcony
wrapped in my grandma’s quilt
my gaze is lost in the horizon
hours feel like days
In loneliness I found peace

A Car Wash
neutral, dig through the menu, fold the mirrors
panic bubbles up
as the first wheels catch
In loneliness I found confidence

An Evening at Home
the hum of the fridge
the disruption of a train
I sink into my favorite chair with a view
In loneliness I found me

A Morning at My Kitchen Table
a year has passed
my mind wanders to the time before
I now see what I couldn’t see then
In loneliness alone I saw deeper loneliness with him

An Evening on the Couch
he sat in his recliner nearby
I got lost in the noise of YouTube
so I scrolled and scrolled and scrolled
In loneliness I disappeared

3 AM
I wake from a nightmare
the room is dark, his breathing heavy
I wipe my own tears and try to sleep again
In loneliness I endured

A Ride in the Car
aggression spilled out over a perceived offense
as he looked to me to agree with his actions
I kept my eyes down on my phone
In loneliness I feared

A Walk Through the Garden
he insisted on coming
yet waited impatiently on the bench
rushed, I photographed and move on
In loneliness I was unconsidered

A Sunrise at Sea
colors danced before a world at sleep
in awe, I turned to him to share the wonder
yet even in the rare times he was physically there, his stare was blank
In loneliness my joy was empty

A Morning at My Kitchen Table
a year has passed
even in my loneliest moments as a single
I am not truly lonely
My carefree joy has overcome

Comparison to 2020

Today's memory on social media was a series of photos I took of a male Northern Cardinal in 2020 that I felt reflected the times.  It also seems so fitting to the life I've lived over the past about 18 months that I must include it here.

This milestone feels different

One year ago today, I picked up the keys to this studio apartment I sit in as I sip my early morning coffee.  This space has become home.

Previous milestones have been a source of grief.  Just two months ago, I was feeling a major setback as it reached a year from when he told me it was over.  There have been countless other setbacks over the past year that came with upsetting reminders of what had been happening a year prior.

But today I just feel peace.

This is the first milestone where my initial reaction is celebration not sadness.  

Yesterday, I was reminded of the amazing community I have built that fills me with so much gratitude.  I poked my head into the offices of two of the women that were part of my weekend a year ago - one who helped me physically move everything and another who was part of a small group that took me out to dinner that Saturday evening.  Their excitement for me felt so supportive.

And then one suggested we go out to dinner this weekend to celebrate.  Another woman across the hall from my office expressed interest in joining us.  I poked my head in the office of a third woman I had been getting to know and invited her and although she needs to check her schedule she expressed interest in coming.  And then I sent two texts to women who we had all previously worked with but who had left.  One responded immediately excited to go.  The other is trying to make her schedule work because she really wants to come.  

That's five women who want to spend a Sunday evening with me and are trying to make their schedules work to do so!  And these are all amazing women.  

I think back to the old me, the one whose social circle primarily consisted of just her husband.  People at work didn't know me all that well.  My connections at church were pretty superficial.  My one real friend was half of a couple's friend.  I rarely went out.  Sitting at a table with a group of six would have overwhelmed me.  And I definitely wasn't organizing gatherings.  I didn't even have many people in my phone contacts that I could call on.

And so I sit here in awe at the transformation that happened over the past year.  I am in awe of the women who have stepped up when I needed community.  And I am in awe of myself for the way I put myself out there to find my people.  And maybe that is what makes this milestone feel like something really worth celebrating.

My first year living completely on my own and my evolution

Tomorrow is the anniversary of when I picked up the keys to my very first apartment all on my own.  Last year, September 20th fell on a Friday so it was a day like today.  I still had the opportunity to work from home on Fridays and so I worked the morning in the old apartment, picked up my keys at lunch, and then wheeled my desk to my empty new apartment and finished the day there.

I've come so far, grown so much, and my evolution has been fascinating to watch. Even this week there was another shift.  So as I got ready this morning, I've been walking myself through the various stages of my evolution over the last year.

The first stage was survival.  It was filled with lists to help me keep moving forward.  There were so many practical aspects that needed to be dealt with in a time when my emotions felt overwhelming.  Yoga and nature helped me soothe my nervous system as I faced it all.  And I started talking to be people, colleagues at work, people at church - this was the beginning of building community.

My next stage was my "yes" stage.  I think the turning point that pushed me into this stage was the moment I stepped out of the train station in New York City.  I stopped and said "oh shit what have I gotten myself into!"  Talk about overwhelming the senses!  And to be doing this for the first time all alone.  And then when I walked to my hotel, I couldn't avoid the grates that had always scared me so I boldly stepped over that first one.  From there I realized that the best way to find me again was to step outside of my comfort zone and get out there and try things.

From that point on, I made a point to say "yes" to any social event or activity that came up that I thought could even remotely be interesting.  Improv, life group, divorce support group, gatherings with friends, church women's retreat, joint choir singing opportunities, road trips, etc.  I don't even remember what all I filled my calendar with.  And although it wasn't sustainable long-term, I had a blast.  I learned so much about me and what I am capable of.  I met people.  I gained confidence in being out in the world as a single person.

I think I needed to get back on my feet in practical ways and start to gain more confidence in me before I was ready to process what had happened in the relationship and divorce.  That's not to say there wasn't some processing going on in the first two stages.  And there definitely was a lot of grief I was sitting through.  But I didn't really seriously start to process and dig into the work of healing until this third stage which I will call the mental processing stage.  That weekend in Gulf Shores in January where I disconnected is where I think I dipped my toes into this stage.

In the mental processing stage, I took a step back from the re-written history/narrative of our relationship he had tried to convince me was true, dug into some old journals, and spent time time with my own memories.  Sometimes it brought up even more doubts as some of the things he had said last summer finally reached my brain.  But the shifting through all that helped me separate his gaslighting from my own reality.

Although, it didn't happen right away, the rose colored glasses eventually came off during this stage.  I still can't believe how much grace I gave to that man, probably still do to a certain extent.

I don't know what this next stage will be but I feel like there was a turning point this week.  All the mental processing I was doing in my head over the last half a year became real when I physically saw it manifested in his next relationship.  I feel like I was granted a gift to go back and observe as a third party a glimpse of my relationship.  And it validated every conclusion I had come to in the mental processing stage.  It made me so glad to not be the one in that relationship anymore.

I still have more work to do and this new chapter is just beginning.  There is so much more of the journey left.  But I am in awe of the beautiful woman I am becoming and intrigued with the interesting life I am building.  And as I watch with admiration my parents' continuing evolution even as they reach their 70s, I look forward to more years of my own evolution.

My scooter has been a more constant set of wheels than any car.

It appears he bought another car.  The fully paid off vehicle he took in the divorce was only about 6 months old when the divorce was final in October.  He traded it in for a Hyundai in November or December.  Then he traded that one in for a Volvo in late March.  And now parked in his spot is an Audi electric SUV.  I would guess this purchase happened in the last few weeks.  I don't walk that way all that often but it wasn't very long ago that I couldn't find a lower level parking spot and so ended up parked in a spot near his.  I was only up wandering the higher decks of the parking garage this evening because I was intrigued with the scope of the construction work they are doing on the railroad tracks outside my apartment complex.

And to think he turned the blame around on me for all the cars he bought, claiming that every time I tried to slow him down, he responded by pushing more frequently (sounds like a toddler mindset to me).  He claimed my push back caused him to buy more cars than he otherwise would have.  Clearly that's not quite the truth though.  He's replacing them every 4-6 months now that I'm out of the picture.  We were on a 6-9 month schedule the last years of our marriage.

This week before I had even realized he had moved on to his next car, I was reflecting on my scooter.  It is well worn and has seen so many miles.  The handlebar is a bit crooked no matter how much I try to adjust and tighten it.  The wheels could really use replacing.  It has been with me for almost nine years now.  I've thought about upgrading.  A OneWheel or a Half-bike each intrigue me for different reasons.  But I haven't been able to bring myself to replace it.  

And that is when I realized, it has been a more constant set of wheels for me than any car I have ever owned.  It has been one thing that was totally mine.  It (and the lifestyle I built around it) has been the excuse I needed to not have to learn another car each time he brought a new one home.  In a way, it has been my silent protest about the rotating cars in my life.

All his attention was on the cat

I stepped out of the stairwell under the overhead walkway between my building and the parking garage.  As I unfolded my scooter, out of the corner of my eye I saw a couple on the steps leading to the garage.  His back was turned to me as he bent over and pet one of the stray cats that have made their home here.  She stood awkwardly, holding a bag with a silver hard-sided suitcase next to her.  Her eyes met mine.  He continued to focus all his attention on the cat.

She seemed impatient maybe even drained.  There wasn’t a light (a spark, a joy) in the way she held herself.  And it seemed very odd that if he was seeing her off after spending the night (or several nights) together that his attention would be so focused on the stray cats that he sees every day as they spend significant time on his patio.  

This post is about my ex-husband and the woman he has been seeing since probably late June.

I saw myself in her and in what I had escaped.  And I realized that the transformation in me (the loss of my light) likely was slow and happening even before I started acknowledging the shift in my journal entries.  

I am reminded that the first time he picked me up in his car (one of our earlier dates), he explicitly told me how important his car was.  I laughed it off at the time.  It makes me wonder though how many other little things followed that explicit statement that kept me at a distance and the ways I (perhaps subconsciously) tried to push back against that to convince him I was worth a higher priority.  

I wonder if my energy wasn’t just lost to having to constantly help him manage his own emotions but also to fighting for my own space and worth.

As I scootered away this morning, I couldn’t help but laugh.  Relief rushed over me at no longer being in a relationship with someone unwilling to prioritize me.  I no longer had to wait while he focused his attention on the things that mattered more than me.  And  I saw the humor in how oblivious I was to something that likely was quite obvious.  

This chance to observe their encounter allowed me a rare glimpse as an outsider looking in.

An evening in the park

I walked through my favorite park well after the sun had set tonight.  My therapy bench was empty and has a beautiful view of the city lights and their reflection in the pod.  A couple sits together on a blanket with a candle.  A man sits alone under a street light with a journal.  Some has hung a hammock between two trees.  Several dogs walk their owners.  A train rattles on the tracks as it passes by.  The announcer for the minor league playoff game can be heard along with a cheering crowd at times.  A heron squawks in a nearby tree.  The air is still heavy from the lat summer heat.

There is a quiet within me, an acceptance of where I might be headed with a bit of impatience as I wait for it to unfold.  I still feel a pull towards my ex-husband and a desire to know what he is up to but a welcome distance from it all.  If he is repeating his patterns, I expect he is in the dopamine filled stage of dating where he thinks he found the one and she thinks he is the greatest man she ever met.  

That was a fun stage of my life.  Yet I have no desire to go back because I now know what follows.

I think about my new future. Today I stood in a colleague’s office who casually mentioned he had heard I might be moving on to something else. I panicked a moment because I had not shared with him my opportunity and so came the realization that it was spreading further than I wanted.  But then he wished me well and encouraged me if this was a good move for me and that made me smile as a rush of feelings washed over me.  I have made it to the point where this opportunity now feels completely right.  I hope I haven’t gotten my hopes up too much in case it falls through but even my Dad said something last week about how this might be really good for me.

A breeze rushes through my hair rustling the leaves in the tree above me which brings me back to this space, this beautiful park which has become my calm, my grounding, my perspective over the last 16 months.  Maybe it’s time to find a new space.  Maybe it’s time to let go.

Red Roses

Today's social media memory is from six years ago.  

It felt such a momentous moment that I actually interrupted my bird and wildlife photography Instagram feed to post about them.  I think I can count on one hand all the times he bought me flowers during the more than two decades we were together.  I was always okay with it because I had convinced myself I didn't want to "waste" money on flowers but how much money did we "waste" on cars?  If we had bought one less car over our marriage, how many bouquets of flowers would that have equaled?

But besides the infrequency, what stood out most to me today was the fact that they were red roses.  There is nothing about me and my personality that says red roses.  My favorite flower is the daisy.  Carnations had a special meaning for us (flowers I gave him when we were dating).  I told stories about Black-eyed Susans.  I always admired the most multi-colored bouquets we saw.  I had planted so many other varieties of flowers in our garden when we owned a home but not one single rose bush.  I am anything but traditional red roses.  

And as I reflected on this today, it hit me.  His Mom loves red roses.  He bought the flowers his Mom would have wanted.

The tears rushed down my face as the pain hit me of all the ways he didn't take the time to learn about my preferences, desires, needs, etc.  Even when on the rare occasion he did something special for me, it was still about him and what he felt I should want, need, etc.  Or maybe it was about his relationship with his Mom.  Maybe I was just a stand in for his Mom.

Finding the Beauty

I went in search of beauty today.  It didn't take away the pain or make the anger disappear.  But it grounded me.  It made me slow down.  It settled my restlessness.  It balanced the ugliness with gratitude.  

First I spent about an hour and a half at my neighborhood park watching the breeze dance on the pond. The trees, trains, and people's reflections in the water went from clear to wavy to obscured and back again over and over.  It reminded me of the influences on perspective and the multi-dimensional way I see the world.  And it made me smile at its beauty.

Then I went to my local Botanical Gardens where I paused in the Formal Rose Garden to breathe in the fragrant scent of the late summer roses before I continued into Ireland Old-fashioned Rose Garden which is my favorite space at the Gardens. I started following a group of Cloudless Sulphur butterflies with my macro lens when two Ruby-throated Hummingbirds zipped past me, so close they rustled my hair. Amidst the quiet, I noticed their chatter. I had never heard their voices before so I just stood there in awe as so many of them circled around me.  I leaned in wanting to learn hummingbird speak.  The sunlight would occasionally catch the iridescent green on their backs or the ruby spot on their throats.

My next stop was a poetry reading a friend had invited me to.  I spent an hour immersed in the powerful words a number of talented poets, enthralled as their ideas tumbled in my mind.

When I got home, I plugged my car in, edited my photos, and then walked over to the brewery across the street for tacos and beer.  I brought my journal along hoping to do some writing but instead just took in the atmosphere of their patio with a light breeze and a dew point that had dropped to 60*F as groups gathered and conversed over good food and drink.

I now watch the sun slowly slip towards the horizon as my apartment grows darker.  I get up to turn on the soft light of my table top lamps and watch the changing colors of the sky.  Railroad workers climb off the tracks to the pick up van that has just pulled in signaling the end of their shift.

My mind wanders in the silence of my studio.  I still think of him.  There was an easiness to my day that I long to turn into something comfortable but I'm not quite there yet.  So I'll just sit through this knowing that soon it will pass.  In the meantime, I'm really enjoying reclaiming my joy and energy.

Change is Uncomfortable

This showed up in my Threads feed today.  It felt like this woman had gotten into my head and put into words what I have been experiencing.  It's kind of nice to know that I'm not alone out there in what I'm going through.

Change is uncomfortable.  It requires effort, energy, and stepping into the unknown.  And it requires letting go.  I struggle to sever this last string because it is letting go of the life that felt most comfortable.

The Ghost of Him

It's not even a ghost.  Being in a first floor apartment facing the main courtyard with his easy chair next to the window, it's hard not to see his feet up through the half-drawn blinds in the window when the lights are on as I walk past.

I told my therapist that I need to cut this last string, that I still feel his presence living in the same building.  She suggested a good blog post would be on how to ghost bust.  But as I reflect deeper, it's more than his ghost.  If he had moved out of this apartment complex and I had stayed, it would have been just his ghost haunting me as it does in many places throughout this city that we made our home seven years ago.  There's even one bench at the Atlanta Botanical Gardens where his ghost lives so it's not even limited to just this city - it's all the places we made regular memories at.

The problem is that he didn't move out of this building so it's not just his ghost that remains but also his actual presence, his car parked in the VIP space that used to be ours, the patio chairs we picked out together, the recliner I can see through the window that had been with us longer than I can remember, etc.  

And he picked an apartment off the main courtyard that I walk through multiple times a day, so I know when he has been out multiple nights in a row and when he has been home every night for the past week.  So I can make assumptions that he seems to get to telework every other week and that he has an every other week girlfriend (probably opposite the weeks she has placement of her two teenage daughters).

That leads to feelings and thoughts I wish I could expel.  Although I'm not envious of her.  I now know the honeymoon period doesn't last.  But I'm a bit envious of him having a built in person to go out with on a regular basis.  Everything about my social network takes so much work.  I don't have a default person to call on a regular schedule.  Almost all my friends have partners of their own that are rightfully their first priority. 

And as a woman in our current climate where reproductive rights are under attack, our leadership is dismissing domestic violence as not crime, and young men are being radicalized by podcasters, it doesn't even feel safe to enter the dating world if I was even ready to find a default person to call on a regular schedule.  Maybe I am envious of her in that regard because he was a safe person for that purpose even if he wasn't able to step up in a real relationship.

My rational brain knows that my long-term future is so much brighter and that his avoidance has likely continued such that it will have lasting negative consequences for him in the long-term but it just doesn't feel fair in the short-term.  I know my Mom recently reminded me that life isn't fair but it doesn't lessen the pain and reminders.

And then I wonder how much of all of this would just disappear from my thoughts if I didn't know these things about him.  If I could just focus on me without worrying about whether he was suffering any consequences or learning anything from his horrible behavior, maybe I could get past this next hurdle.  

It's like I'm stuck in this cycle.  And to be honest, I've been stuck in it for over two decades.  With every car purchases, I watched him temporarily fill with joy when the dopamine hit of the new car while I sacrificed - the hours in pain on the dealership floor, the trips to the Department of Revenue, the loneliness of the hours he spent in the garage.  I just have to remind myself that with this last and final cycle, I finally get me back and nothing could be more important for my long-term future.

So now I just wait to hear on the Atlanta job.  That would be one great way to cut that last string and it would be such a great step towards building what I want for my life long-term.  And if that doesn't pan out, it's time to start working on Plan B.

Dark-eyed Juncos

Years ago we owned a house in Brookfield, Wisconsin on a very small lot that was incredibly secluded because of the density of trees that surrounded it.  We put up bird feeders, even asking my Dad to build us a large platform one for the larger or more social birds.  And then we put a large piece of paper on the fridge with room to write the bird species we observed down the first column and boxes to check off which months they appeared across each row.

That first October (probably 15 years ago) we were tracking birds, the sunlight hit just right as a new to us species arrived in our yard.  A hint of blue reflected off its dark back.  The inexperienced birder in me jumped to conclusions based on the size and that reflected blue color and marked it down as an Indigo Bunting in its non-breeding plumage.  I was so excited to have such a beautiful bird visit my yard.

That first year, they (a small flock of what I had labeled Indigo Buntings) kept to the ground so I never really got a good look at them.  And then they moved on, migrating.

I watched closely that next October.  I couldn't wait for the return of what I thought were Indigo Buntings.  And they arrived right on schedule except the light didn't hit them the same that October.  They were just a charcoal gray, still a beautiful color but not the flecks of blue I remembered from the year before.  

By this time, I had a year of birding experience under my belt so I looked a little closer and I checked my birding apps for more clues.  And in doing so, I discovered they were actually Dark-eyed Juncos which honestly made a whole lot more sense.  Indigo Buntings don't winter in Wisconsin.  There is no reason they would have showed up in October and hung around.  The beak wasn't right either.  It was an amateur mistake in misidentifying them based on a first impression in just the right lighting.

They returned every year.  And each year they got a little more comfortable in my yard and eventually started spending time on my platform feeder so I got to observe them even more.  They are a bird I look for every winter as they fly south from northern Canada, even though it takes a bit more effort to find them now that I don't have a backyard where they naturally congregate.  But to this day, I always remember them first as an Indigo Bunting.  It's hard to undo my impressions of this adorable little bird from my first winter getting to know them.

Maybe that's why it is so hard to undo my impressions of my ex-husband from our first year together when he showed up and presented himself as such an amazing person from an amazing family.

Social Media Algorithms

I spend too much time on social media.  At one point last January I even stepped away completely from it for a month.  At the end of that break, I told myself I wouldn't put the apps back on my phone so they wouldn't be so easy to access even if I did start logging in again.  That didn't last.

I'm not saying it's all bad.  My Instagram accounts are really positive spaces.  I have curated one account to be just nature photography and the other account to be just travel posts.  IG has helped me find an online community to share my hobbies.

Facebook I have kept locked down.  I joined really late (during the pandemic) and only accept friend requests from people I know in person.  Although my feed still gets filled with other stuff, most of it is just entertainment.

It's Threads where I have more mixed feelings and where I have been able to watch the algorithm shift in real time in ways that I don't think are positive.  That's not to say some great conversations don't take place on Threads - they absolutely do.  But users only get to see a fraction of what exists and it is narrowly tailored to what Meta thinks that individual wants to read (and thus will keep them on the app longer).  

If you want to confirm all your biases, this (or any social media really) is the place to go.  And the worst part is that most people don't even realize it.  Every day there are posts from people wondering why "everyone" thinks X or does Y.  The reality is that the algorithm just thinks they only want to see X or Y and nothing else, so those are the only posts that person sees.  That leaves us all in silos, divided from one another, which in my opinion is really detrimental to our society and relationships.

When I am conscious this is happening, I will sometimes seek out posts of opposite views and start interacting with them which will then start to steer the algorithm to show me something different.  But it takes conscious effort to do that and my own biases likely still get in the way of manipulating the algorithm enough to find a real balance.

So why is all this relevant to this blog?  Because I spend too much time on social media.  In turn, my thought process, maybe even my emotions are influenced by the algorithm.  Here I thought I just had to get my ex-husband out of my head to find myself but in reality, I also have to battle the algorithm.

It's also really concerning to watch how easily people get stuck in uninformed perspectives to such a degree that they not only don't see the other side but even when they come across something contrary, they can't find a way to fit it into their worldview.  I've written before about how our mind can be quick to reject that which doesn't fit our worldview.  

This division that only gets deeper based on so many uninformed or incomplete perspectives is really scary and unsettling.  It makes me fear for the future.  It leaves me feeling alone.  And I feel really angry that my ex-husband abandoned me at such a time in such a way that I not only have to now face an uncertain world alone but I also have to at the same time process and heal from the pain he caused.  Sometimes one becomes a distraction for the other and other times they both hit me at the same time and overwhelm me or like today, numb me.

Physical pain reminds me of emotional pain

I fell up the stairs, carrying my lunch box and scooter as I climbed up to the second floor where to my apartment.  I quickly picked myself up and then made what seemed like a longer walk than normal down the hall and around the corner.  Once inside my apartment with the door locked behind me, I sunk to the floor and the tears started to roll.  

I wasn't seriously hurt, just a few scrapes on my elbow and hand that don't even need bandaids and probably a bruise that will form on my leg.  But the sting I felt on my elbow seemed a proxy for the sting I still feel about how my ex-husband had treated me.  And as I sat there alone, on the floor, I was reminded of the emptiness of his promises.  You know, I wasn't missing him though.  If we had still been together, I would have tended my wounds on my own.  I would have been just as alone even if I felt a superficial comfort to the fact that we shared physical space.

I'm feeling off this week.  I'm sleeping more than usual but still tired every day.  And I'm more restless and unsettled than normal.  I spent more than hour yesterday evening on my "therapy bench" at the local park as I watched the sunset.  My reaction to this fall doesn't surprise me.