Today’s Facebook memory

Five years ago today, my ex-husband made friends with a Canada Goose.  I captured the two of them with my camera.  It was a special moment of awe and joy.  Honestly, I smiled even today as I remembered the moment.

And then when I identified some birds we were looking at as Pine Siskins, he adamantly accused me of making up the name of the birds.  I had been reading about how that winter they were showing up in large numbers in our state, something that doesn’t happen often as they usually don’t winter this far south, so I knew to look for them.  I knew what I was seeing and I tried to explain what I had been reading about them. 

Later that day back at home, after he looked them up himself, he stopped accusing me of being wrong but I never got any sort of acknowledgment or apology from him.

Probably not surprisingly, my Facebook post focused on the first experience.  It is only in hindsight that the single photo (out of 10 photos) of two Pine Siskins triggered the memory of the accusations.

I had never thought about the polarity of those two experiences happening within minutes and feet of each other.  How often did I hang onto the joy I sought out to buffer the ugly moments?  How often was my joy a direct reflection of how I chose to view the world vs things he did to intentionally bring me joy?  

How much did I feed into my own delusions?  In this example none of my joy and buffer came from positive actions on his part towards me.  It was all in my willingness to wear the rose colored glasses.  I suspect this Facebook memory is pretty representative of the way I would hang onto the good I experienced to minimize or even forget the bad.

Although I often wish that characteristic of me hadn’t kept me stuck for so long in a toxic marriage, I do really admire the way I view the world.  So, if I feel a little nostalgia today as I replay the good part of this memory in my mind, I’m okay with that.  

Maybe I even needed a reminder of the good in him (even if it was a goose that was the recipient of his good that day), not because I’m putting the rose colored glasses back on but because maybe when they came off, my focus narrowed too much to just the bad and ugly I had missed or ignored at the expense of the larger picture.

Another dentist appointment come and gone

It felt a bit like I was marking time.  My goodie bag from the last appointment last July was even still sitting in the entryway basket just under my winter hat.  When I had scheduled this one last summer I had pushed it back to get it off the mid-July/mid January schedule.  I didn't want to be reminded of the anniversary every year of the day he so coldly ended it.  But I could still sense his ghost in the space.

Fortunately, it was such a beautiful day and I had the time so I walked to the appointment.  At 1.9 miles one-way, it is in that range where sometimes I drive and sometimes I walk.  On this occasion, I needed the walk.

I ran into a friend on the way there who I hadn't seen in quite a few weeks.  It was nice to get a hug from her.  And then on the way home, before I could even fully register, my feet were walking into one of my favorite restaurants to pick up a sushi burrito for dinner.  When I got home, I found my car and plugged it in so I would have a full charge for the weekend, put my dinner in the fridge and took a nap on the corner of my bed with the windows open and the sun filtering in on me.

So even with the appearance of his ghost, it was a peaceful afternoon.

The bartender

Yesterday evening as I scootered to choir I passed one of my favorite restaurants and recognized the bartender.  He is the one who has remembered me since our first interaction and always strikes up a conversation with me.  I think I have seen him three times now, a month or two in between each time.  I am a bit hesitant to admit I enjoy the attention from him.

So last night as I sat in choir and it was coming to an end early, I pulled up my phone to double check the hours of the restaurant.  I had time for a drink and maybe a slice of chocolate cake.  So after the ride home, I dropped my scooter off back at my apartment, grabbed my wallet, and then walked in and took a seat at the bar.

Recognizing me, he asked if I had been on any trips lately to start the conversation.  He was a bit more distracted on this evening as he texted someone on his phone.  He apologized and shared that he was communicating with his son's mother about who had placement the next day.  In between distractions, we talked about my latest trip and we talked about the Olympics which were on a TV over the bar.  He asked about my Valentine's Day plans so I talked about my church retreat.  He shared that he would be working at the restaurant on Saturday and would have his son this weekend.

I suspect he is single.  He is cute.  I would guess he is a bit younger than me though and him having a child is a dealbreaker for me if I was even at a point where I wanted to date again.  Plus I recognize that any interest he has shown in me likely has been more in a customer service role.  I get similar treatment from a number of the servers at this restaurant.  But it was just fun to have that attention and I wasn't quite ready to go home after choir.  I wanted to be around people.  

There is something I'm really enjoying about both observing people and how we all fit in this world together and being present and a participant in a way I wasn't before.

And as I type this I’m realizing how incredibly wild it is that I walked into a bar for the main purpose of having a conversation with the bartender.  The old me would have never done that.  Any limited conversations I had with servers and bartenders were just polite and practical, never personal.

The rain today

This afternoon I felt a need to get out of the office and grab a coffee at my favorite coffee shop around the corner.  My office doesn't have any windows and I didn't think to look at my weather app so I was momentarily taken aback when I stepped out into a light, steady rain.  A negative feeling of "ugh!" washed over me as I wrapped my sweater tighter around me.  It was such a foreign feeling that it actually made me stop in my tracks.  What was going on inside of me that had somehow turned my joy of rain into a complaint?

I don't actually know.  And it really unsettled me.

My ring broke

I bought a ring in those first couple weeks after he called it quits, the summer of 2024.  It's a bronze colored silicone ring with mountains etched on it and a sun rising over the mountains.  I've worn it every single day since.  It was my daily reminder that the light always follows the darkness.  I loved that ring.

I knew it wouldn't last forever.  It's made of silicone, not gold or silver or platinum.  I knew someday it would wear out.

I wasn't expecting though, the tears that flowed this morning when it broke.

I could buy it again if I wanted.  It's even on sale right now, 25% off.  But I think I was mostly attached to the phase of life the ring carried me through and that it was less about the look of the ring.  A new ring, even if it wasn't identical, wouldn't be the same ring from that phase.  It wouldn't carry that emotional attachment.

I think there is some fear that I'm not done with that phase in my life, that it broke prematurely.  Maybe that's what the tears were about.

Happy Valentine's Day!

As I signed the credit card slip at the end of the night, a realization rushed over me.  He never would have taken me to a place like this.  He never would have been willing to spend this kind of money on a dinner out, not because we didn't have the money but because it wasn't important to him.  I have really leveled up.  I may make less money than him but I have actually raised my standard of living.  I never would have believed it if you had told me I would do that a year and a half ago.

Tonight was so fun.  The food and drinks were amazing.  The atmosphere was unique.  The peace and wonder I felt were priceless.  And I bought myself flowers on the way home.

My only complaint is that my date (myself) was terribly unskilled with her chopsticks!  

Happy Valentine's Day (a few days early) to me!  The love I have been pouring into myself has revitalized me in a way I couldn't ever have imagined.  

My own significant other

Last week or maybe it was the end of the week before, I was standing in my colleagues office.  She had just given a fortune cookie to another colleague who didn't like his fortune and we were laughing about it.  She then turned to me and said "I have one more" as she handed me a fortune cookie.  With all their eyes on me, I unwrapped the cookie and pulled out the fortune.  I read it to myself first, laughed and then read it aloud.

"You will have a romantic dinner with your significant other."

The colleague who didn't like his fortune half joked as he walked out reminding me not to pick a stranger for my romantic dinner.

I have to say I had a moment of irritation.  It was the same day my supervisor had commented on my sweater saying I should wear it for Valentine's Day.  I had avoided Valentine's Day the year before and at that time, figured I would do the same this year.  I didn’t really want to be reminded of a couple’s holiday.

But then I thought about it a little bit more.  I have become my own significant other.  And I am a better significant other to myself than my ex-husband ever was to me, even in the height of our intense early dating days.  I don't recall him ever doing a single thing for me for Valentine's Day.  I remember the video I made him a few years back and a few other little things I did for him over the years but generally it was an ignored holiday.

I used to say we didn't need Valentine's Day because we did things for each other every day of the year, except he didn't actually do things for me the other 364 days of the year either.  So it was really just something I told myself to hang onto the illusion.  

It’s funny, he made some off-handed comment as we were breaking up that he wished we had exchanged more gifts over the years.  To make a wishful statement like that of something that he had the power to change as he walked out the door seemed really shitty to me.  It came across as one more thing he expected of me that he wasn’t willing to do himself or even communicate about, for that matter.

Anyway, back to today, this Valentine’s Day, and my fortune.  I’ve got a date with myself planned for this evening.  I’ve picked out a dress.  I’m going to try this new Japanese restaurant downtown.  And I might even go pick up some flowers.

Unable to process it all

I feel like I'm walking through life collecting little tidbits of information that I am not able to fully process but that I fear are having some sort of negative affect on me under the surface.  

A week and a half ago, I learned that my divorce attorney was diagnosed with a fatal illness with months to live.

Last week, a government attorney asked the court to hold her in contempt and arrest her so that she could have 24 hours of sleep.

Today, I realized the timing of my husband disclosing his crush on his boss and lack of attraction in me immediately followed a period of me investing everything into helping his parents after his dad's diagnosis and only about six months after me being offered a job in LA that I would have hated but was my way of concretely showing him my support for the career path he really wanted to follow.  His response to me showing up for him was to go find another woman.

Today at work we got a goodbye speech (with no specific exit date) from our number one in command and learned the retirement of the number two in command effective next Friday.  This is all many, many months before I expect the Senate confirmation process to finish.

And I suspect this is just the tip of the iceberg.  What else is lurking below that I wasn't able to process in the moment but just tucked away to deal with another day?

His absence in memories

I've been seeing reports that more of the Great Lakes are freezing over than normal this year which has made me reminisce about a once in a lifetime opportunity I had to visit the Ice Caves on the Apostle Islands National Lakeshore.  It appears they have not opened again since my visit in 2015.  We'll see if this year could be the year they finally reopen again.  I found my travel blog post about the day trip I took.    

Everything had to perfectly fall into place for that trip to happen for me.  First, the notice went out that they might be opening just days before the planned excursion.  And the planned excursion had all kinds of caveats as even if it did successfully open that year, it was very unpredictable how long the conditions would stay favorable enough to stay open.  In 2015, the caves would only open for 9 days.

Second, I wasn't fast enough in signing up so ended up on the wait list.  I suppose the e-mail warning people they needed the proper gear (ice cleats, hiking poles with metal tips, warm enough clothing, etc.) to safely walk across ice deterred some so enough cancelled to open up spots for us.

And then the day came, I had gotten off the wait list and conditions were still favorable to make the caves still accessible, so I boarded a bus for the seven hour drive up to Lake Superior.  When we arrived, my camera bag fell to the floor of the bus from the overhead shelves breaking the lens I had planned to use.  Left with just my zoom lens, I adapted.  I took more steps backwards to try and capture some of what I was experiencing.  And I took in more with just my eyes.  This was before I had a cell phone as an alternative camera.

One thing that stands out as I replay this memory in my head is the absence of my ex-husband.  I know he was physically present with me.  I bought two seats on that bus.  But I don't remember a single interaction with him or a moment we connected on this long day trip.  

I remember Victor who was in charge of the excursion.  I remember running into a client when we bought the ice cleats the night before at an outdoors store.  I remember the painter on the ice.  I remember a movie played on the bus TVs as I edited photos on that long ride home.  But I don't remember a single interaction with the man who took the trip with me.  Even the moment I discovered my lens was broken and unusable is a solo moment in my memories.  The sounds of the cracks on the ice I feel like I experienced alone.

It is so weird to think about how absent he truly was even when he was physically present.  I think that was the case a lot because as memories of the last two decades come back to me, it's the event or the place or the people I met there that replay in my mind.  Although he is physically present in most memories I have of those two decades together, rarely are any memories WITH him.  

It's almost as if he helped me compartmentalize the joy from the struggles, the daily grind from the adventures, the good from the bad.  Although, how much of that is his true absence vs me dissociating from his role in the positive things I wanted to hang onto?

As I ask that question, I’m reminded of our China Lights experience.  His Dad was really sick (in and out of hospitals, nursing homes, etc.).  It was the hardest year of our marriage and one of the worst years of my life.  I had been pouring everything I had into supporting him, his Dad, and his Mom when he told me he didn’t find me attractive anymore and had feelings for his boss.  We were in couple’s counseling at this point.

So we had tickets to China Lights which was this amazing display of lights at one of the local gardens.  We argued about something just before we left.  I don’t recall about what but I was determined not to let it destroy my enjoyment of the lights and so I put it aside for the hour or so we were there.  

I enjoyed the event but I later learned that he stewed the entire time.  More than once over the years, he brought up how I had ruined China Lights for him.  If I didn’t have the overlay of his perspective on that memory, I wonder if I would feel his absence from that memory as well.  Instead, it’s colored with a resentment I don’t truly understand.

I think this China Lights experience highlights my role in compartmentalizing and maybe even as a result keeping some distance between him and his negativity and the joy I needed to hang onto.  By compartmentalizing, I didn’t allow him to ruin my joy.

I wonder how much distance that created between us or was it my response to the distance he had already created?  Or maybe some of both?

A surreal weekend

What a surreal weekend.  The Super Bowl is playing right now.  I don't have a TV and so it is not playing in my apartment but I can't avoid it with the way it has taken over social media.  The Seahawks are playing the Patriots.  I've never been a big football fan but I will cheer for any team that is playing the Patriots for many reasons that I won't get into here, even better yet that their competitor is a woman controlled team.

But honestly, I don't think many people actually care about the game that is being played this year.  I'm not even sure the commercials that are usually the other focus are all that much of a focus this year.  Really, today, they are the side show to the musical entertainment.  The acts chosen to perform, Green Day as the opener and Bad Bunny as the halftime performer, were so clearly chosen to send a message to this administration.  And it's a message they got so clearly that Turning Point is putting on their own counter show with Kid Rock, a very interesting choice for an organization that calls itself Christian.

And this is the same weekend the Olympics opened in Italy where US athletes are publicly making statements about having mixed feelings representing this country and people from all over the world are booing our Vice President.  The very definition of patriotism and whether it includes criticizing what one feels is going wrong in our country or whether blind loyalty is required is being debated across many forums.  Is love without honesty really love?

It also happens to be the same weekend that in the middle of the night, our top leader posted a racist video of former President Obama and his wife which seems to have resulted in my social media feed being filled with clips of the Obamas demonstrating dignity and integrity, almost as a counter-balance.

And all of this came up at church today, right along side the planned sermon about dinosaurs.  Did you know that some Christians believe Noah brought dinosaurs onto the ark with all the other animals?  He supposedly somehow fit two brontosauruses measuring 75 feet long each (plus two of all the other dinosaur and non-dinosaur species) onto an ark that was roughly 450 feet long by 50 feet wide by about 45 feet high (3 levels).  

No, I don't go to a church where the Bible is read literally.  With all its contradictions within itself and its contradictions with the verifiable facts we know about our planet, I don't really understand how anyone can take it as the literal truth.  That's been a recurring topic in the sermon series that ended today at my church.

Here are a few quotes from my Pastor that have really stuck with me from today's sermon.  

"When we already know the answers, the questions don't matter."  How often do we decide our bias is fact and go looking for evidence to confirm our views?  This was in the context of the Bible and the way the Bible has been used inappropriately but it really fits so well in a much broader context.

"Our faith is far more mystery than science, more curiosity than facts."  

"Wonder at the possibilites of a God who is far bigger than anything the church has ever imagined." This last quote brought a few tears to my eyes.  I honestly don't know what I believe about God.  I've had a very love/hate, on-and-off-again relationship with the church.  I only joined this one for the choir and the community after I felt comfortable its values aligned with mine.  I appreciate that they encourage questions and don't pretend to have all the answers. My doubts feel like they fit right in.

But when I stand on the edge of a canyon or walk through a forest or sit with a bird, I can't help but feel a connection to a greater power, something larger than I can even imagine.  It's that wonder and curiosity that feed my soul.  So to sit in a church willing to contemplate something larger than any of us could possibly imagine or understand felt right.

The irony that this was all over a discussion about dinosaurs, something so near and dear to my ex-husband's heart.  And that despite his intrigue with dinosaurs, he seemed unable to grasp that wonder and curiosity in life.  Too many people today are completely unable to grasp the importance of wonder and curiosity.  Maybe that is part of what has lead us to where we are today.

But despite all of the chaos of the weekend, a robin and a towhee sang a call and response melody outside my window this morning, one last bud on my Christmas Cactus is threatening to bloom, and the sun was a giant, magnificent red ball just before it fell before the horizon.

Church

With a sermon topic on dinosaurs, I would have actually gotten my ex-husband to church tomorrow had we still been together.  Not that I ever pressured him.

I really hate how I had to carefully navigate within the context of my marriage my involvement in a church once we moved south.  Our marriage wasn't based on a shared faith.  Neither of us attended church or participated in a church when we first met.  I had grown up very involved in the Lutheran Church but had walked away from it in college when it felt hypocritical.  He had gone to a Catholic elementary school for a couple years but otherwise didn't have consistent involvement in any church growing up.  I knew he was pretty anti-religion.

So when I started talking about getting involved with a church in about year thirteen of our marriage, I didn't ever expect it to be an "us" thing.  I tried to be very clear that this was something I needed for myself and he was perfectly free to participate as much or as little as he wanted or even not at all.  I kind of hope that every once in a while, he would want to come hear me sing but it wasn't something I ever asked of him because I wanted it to be his choice.

He attended pretty regularly that first year or so before the pandemic and even came to an overnight church retreat with me.  I always got the sense that no matter what I said or how I tried to convince him I didn't expect him to participate with me, he still felt some obligation.

And then during the pandemic, I decided I wanted to officially join.  I really tried to have some serious conversations with him about this and when he casually mentioned worrying about how it would look to have a wife join but not her husband, I actually tried to talk him out of it.  I knew no one at our church would care.  Plenty of other wives had joined without their husbands.  But he wasn't willing to hear me or have a real conversation about it.  Ultimately, he decided to join with me.

After we returned to in person services after the pandemic, he started going less and less often which was fine with me.  But with each pledge season, I felt a bit more tension as we talked about what our donation to the church would be.  The amount we gave seemed pretty reasonable for the rich benefits I got from singing in the choir and participating in the community.  I saw it as the cost of my hobby and my social circle.  In hindsight, I realize now it didn't even come close to what we spent on cars for him on an annual basis.  It didn't even exceed the amount we spent on each individual trade-in which was happening 3-4 times a year.

And then when the divorce happened mid-year, he didn't even give a thought to the fact that his name was on the pledge as well.  He abandoned it as easily as he abandoned me.  He left me to have the conversation with my pastor about adjusting the amount to meet my single salary and removing his name from it.  The performance I actually never asked him to play of a church-involved husband ended abruptly with consequences to me, consequences I never would have felt if he hadn't chosen his ego and image over the authenticity I asked of him.  

Restless and unsettled today

I started a post this morning at breakfast about my perhaps misplaced but long-held belief that I was an introvert that I can't finish even though I keep going back to it, tweaking it, adding to it, re-writing parts of it, etc.  Most posts I write in one sitting - they just flow out often after hours of ideas whirling in my head.  When I get stuck on one like this, it usually means something about it isn't sitting right with me.  Sometimes I go back to them later when I'm ready.  Other times, they just sit as draft posts in my blogging account, sometimes never to be touched again.  I don't know what the fate of this one will be.

I'm restless today, maybe even a bit unsettled.  I did get out briefly.  I walked to the grocery store.  I stopped to admire the Valentine's Day section, picked up some chocolates that will take me months to finish, almost bought flowers, even contemplated a balloon that said "you're sweet."  He never got me anything or did anything for me for Valentine's Day and I'm getting really good at doing things for myself so I was trying to decide what I wanted this year.

Then I found the tomato soup I recently learned is actually dairy free.  And now that I have a dairy free cheese I like, I can make a grilled cheese and dip it in tomato soup!  I haven't made it yet but it sits on my counter waiting.

On my way home, the sun shone brightly.  I smiled as I saw some of the same groups of people walking the park that had been walking when I passed through the park on my way to the store.

But then I've been home the rest of the day.  I've taken a nap, started a new book (although didn't get very far), scrolled Threads, worked on my puzzle, tried listening to my playlist, and not felt like I accomplished anything as my thoughts escaped me.  It's the start of my period so I haven't been physically comfortable either.

Maybe I'll go make my grilled cheese and tomato soup and remind myself that even on my hardest or most unsettling days this year, I am still more present, more joyful, more real, and more true to myself than I was in my marriage.

A Friday night out

There's a tiki bar less than a block away from me that I have been meaning to try for almost as long as I have lived here.  As the work week came to an end, I decided I wanted to go find somewhere to have a cocktail on this Friday night and so this tiki bar came to mind.  

But I didn't want to go drinking on an empty stomach and I also didn't want to cook so I started my evening at the greek restaurant next door.  They have really gotten to know me there.  A manager stopped by my table welcoming me back and servers that weren't my server's made a point to greet me as well.  It really feels kind of good to be known.

And then after enjoying dinner, I walked over to this tiki bar.  I found a seat at the bar, perused the menu, and chatted with the bartender to get recommendations.  It was a really unique place with amazing drinks that were presented so well.  There was a flower in one of my drinks!  Another of my drinks was poured in a vessel that looked like a cobra snake!

I find it interesting how quickly I have become comfortable going out on my own like this.  I didn't even think twice.  I just decided what I wanted for tonight and went out and did it.  And what a night I had!

A dream about the man I met last fall

I had a dream about that man I met on my trip last fall.  I don't know what made me think of him.  I hadn't really given him all that much thought since the trip.  

In my dream, we were walking towards a restaurant.  He was following me, not at all unlike he did during the time I spent with him.  I accidentally walked right past the hostess stand of the restaurant we were going to eat at.  When I realized my mistake, I paused to turn back.  In that pause, he spoke up criticizing me about how I missed it.

I would rather do life alone than have a partner who just sits back and lets me handle life on my own, even worse if they criticize or silently resent me for the actions I take.  I never want to be with someone again who will so easily let me take the heavier load.

Impulse Control

Today my therapist shared with me a quote about aggressive driving and its tie to poor impulse control and inability to regulate emotions that really described my experience with my ex-husband.  It lead to a good reflection on the other ways his poor impulse control showed up in the marriage.

The first thing that came to my mind was the house we bought on an impulse.  One day we drove past a sign for an open house and we pulled in.  We had not seriously discussed buying a house at all before that moment.  After going through the open house that weekend, we put an offer in Monday morning.  I don't even recall looking at any other houses.  It turned out to be the worst financial decision we made together by a long shot.

As I sit here this evening reflecting, I'm stuck on why I would have gone along with that impulse.  I have been an over-planner, over-researcher, over-thinker my entire life.  And we didn't truly have money to throw away at that time.  This was in the first couple years of our marriage.  We would have barely been done paying off our wedding.  I had a measly teacher's salary.  I'm not saying we bought over our means - it was a very modestly priced condo.  But such a large decision like that should have received more thought.

Over the years, I felt like I had to learn to navigate when to just go with his impulses and when to try and slow him down.  Whenever I tried to slow him down, it created a lot of tension.  I wonder if in his mind, I became the problem in those moments.  I think it put me in a mother-type role with him which probably fed into his toddler-like push back on any opinion I had.

It had to have done a number on my nervous system.  I don't think I'm built for that level of impulsivity.  Add to that the fact that we never actually resolved any conflicts.  So we just kept jumping from one thing to the next without ever resolving what happened in the previous actions.  No wonder my body was trying to tell me my nervous system was a mess.

I studied in Spain for a semester in college.  I was intent on making the most of my time abroad and booked trips all over Europe every long weekend, school break, and even some short weekends.  I was making use of every second with trains that would come in at 7:00 a.m. with no time to spare to get to my first class of the day.  And although every trip didn't always go smoothly (thinking about the wrong date on the overnight train from Paris), every trip was meticulously planned, except two.  And when I think about those two trips, I remember more clearly the anxiety than I do the specifics of the trips.

The first was a solo trip to Barcelona.  I bought train tickets first and then couldn't find anywhere to stay until the very last minute so ended up in a hostel I wasn't comfortable with.  The second was a trip with two friends to Portugal.  We bought one way bus tickets to the first city with plans to figure out all the rest (hotel, transportation to the next city, transportation home, etc.) when we got there.  I don't regret either experience, I learned a lot about myself in both cases.  But it did confirm my personal need for a bit more planning and research before jumping into something.

So I laugh now as I try to align that knowledge of myself with the fact that I married a man with poor impulse control and I gave into his impulses so often.  I suppose the second part goes back to the fact that no one wants to have to be their spouse's mother and have to be the one to rein in their impulses.  I married thinking I would get a partner to make rational decisions with, not chase after his every whim.

But that still leaves the question as to why I would marry a man with such poor impulse control in the first place.  And I can't say I didn't know.  I have journal entries from that first year we were dating, before we were engaged or had even moved in together.  I talked him out of replacing his car.  

A mechanic had messed something up on his car and he didn't even want to give the mechanic a chance to fix it.  He was ready to just trade it in for something else.  This was after we had signed a lease to share an apartment the next school year.  I saw any money (of what little he had) that he threw away on a car in that moment of frustration as money he wouldn't have to help pay for the apartment we would be responsible for together.

As I try to still process pieces of my marriage like this, a year and a half later, I marvel at how I used to actually believe I had a good marriage.  Maybe that should be my reminder of the delusion I was living in.  My sense of reality got so distorted.  I was so disassociated from both reality and my body that I convinced myself that the fantasy he presented was my reality.

Missing an illusion

Sometimes I miss coming home to someone.  I miss having someone care whether I made it home safely.  I miss having someone to talk to.  I miss having someone to share in decision making.  I miss having someone thinking about and considering me.

But then I remind myself that I had none of that.  It was all an illusion.  It was a fantasy I was holding onto.  It is what I had hoped marriage would be.

I now have deeper conversations with my coffee cup every morning than I ever did with my ex-husband.  He didn't want to talk about anything where I didn't already agree with him or any topic where he perceived me as smarter than him.  

Whenever we visited his parents, we had the exact same conversation every single dinner.  We would spend an inordinate amount of time raving about the simple lettuce salad we were eating, the same salad each meal.  It was always the best salad.  In hindsight, it really represents the level of depth to all their conversations.  That is where my ex-husband's comfort level was, a level that was deeply unsatisfying to me.  That was all the conversation I came home to.

So when I strip away the illusion, I ask myself, is there really anything left to miss?  Sure, I'm left with the quiet of my studio apartment but most moments that quiet is a positive, so it’s only increasingly rare  moments where it feels too quiet.  Since his absence, I've actually developed so many relationships that have depth so I'm finally actually mostly meeting that need of mine.  And I now have at least four people who will gladly check in on me and track my location when I need someone to care that I made it home safely.

And let's be honest, I never really had a partner to share in decision making.  He was a hindrance more than a help.  I had to navigate his ego while still bearing the brunt of coming up with the best plan.  Decisions are actually easier now.

And all the work I have been doing building a community is resulting in a wealth of people who think about me and consider me.

What a weird dissonance to miss an illusion when the reality of today is infinitely better than the reality at the time of that illusion.

The physical sensations of the rain

A light, steady rain fell as I stepped out of my work yesterday.  As I scootered, I took in all the sensations of the experience, the water dripping from my bangs, the chill in my hands as they gripped the handlebar, that fresh, earthy smell, the soft pitter patter of the drops hitting the ground.  More than once I caught myself smiling or laughing out loud as I navigated the streets, sidewalks, and parkway paths of my commute or as I paused at a streetlight.  

And then I noticed that my left shoe seemed to have filled with water while my right foot seemed mostly dry still.  I puzzled over that inconsistency.  I faced the imbalance I felt with curiosity.  When I got home and took off my shoes, indeed my right foot was mostly dry and my left foot sat in a puddle of water and left foot prints everywhere I walked.

I really appreciate how I'm learning to be so much more in tune with me - what sensations I'm physically feeling, how my body is reacting, how I'm emotionally feeling, what pull I'm feeling towards nature, people, etc.  Every moment of life is now an experience.  I suppose that means I'm so much more present.

And I really appreciate how I now have the energy and time to ponder with curiosity things I don't understand.  I don't first have to manage someone else's uncontrolled gut emotions first.  I can just take in the feelings of a wet foot and focus my energy on why it might be wet (and ultimately how to fix it) instead of on how awful it must be to have a wet foot.

I disappeared into a book last night

I changed into my pajamas, curled up under one of my Grandma's lap quilts on the end of my bed with a view of the world at about 6:20 p.m., and opened up the Libby app.  The audiobook I had started last week which I can't seem to finish opened up automatically but I wanted to actually try reading something again.

I've really struggled with this.  As a child, I used to get caught reading under the covers with a flashlight after bedtime.  I was never far from a book.  My favorite series growing up was the Boxcar Children.  

Sadly, at some point during my marriage, I essentially stopped reading.  I don't know if it was the distraction of the noise - the TV was always on or if it was the way he drained all my energy leaving none for myself or if it was the mindless scrolling that at some point took over, maybe as a coping mechanism or something else.  It was a piece of me my married self lost.

I had hoped to reclaim this part of me once again after the separation but it has been a struggle.  My mind so often seems to wander too much to get lost in a book.  And the distractions on my devices are significant.  I've substituted audiobooks as I seem to have more focus for them so I've actually finished a few audiobooks in the last year and a half.  But as evidenced by the half-listened to audiobook in my Libby app, even that has been somewhat of a challenge.

So last night, I picked a new ebook from the Libby app, a contemporary drama/comedy with a bit of romance and I settled in.  With the exception of one bathroom break, can you believe I didn't put that book down until after 10:00 p.m. when I turned the lights out to go to sleep?  Libby says I'm 41% done with the book already!

I probably smiled as I fell asleep.  It felt so good to reconnect with that little girl inside of me that sometimes just wants to disappear into a good book.

Freedom

I just washed two pans and popped them dripping wet in the still warm oven which I used to cook my lunch and I laughed out loud!

My ex-husband used to hate it when I did that.  I always thought it made perfect sense to use the residual heat from cooking the meal to dry them for me.  I suppose his issue was that I often forgot about them and so the next time he needed the oven, he would turn it on not realizing the pans were still in there.  

I never fully understood the complaint because if I happened to do the same, I would just grab a hot hit and pull them out of there as soon as I realized my mistake.  They cool pretty fast on the stove top.  

And honestly, if I was cleaning pans while the oven was still warm, it meant I was on top of dishes which I would have thought he would appreciate.  But I never could do anything right.  He didn't like how I loaded the dishwasher either.

Anyway, I now store my pans in the oven so I definitely don't think twice about using that heat to dry them!  

Recalibrating how I see the world

I was talking with a friend at work about the loss of innocence and the way I used to focus so much on the good in people.  I mentioned I'm really trying to not make assumptions about people as I know how damaging inaccurate assumptions can be to relationships with the way my ex-husband assumed the worst in me but that has gotten harder.  

I feel like the best I can do now is just try to loosely hold them so that I'm open to adjusting them as I get more information.  But even that leaves me questioning relationships and people's motives until I can gather more information.  It leaves me with too much doubt.  And its probably amplified right now as I relearn to trust myself.

This struggle feels like such a loss of self or at least a deep questioning of self that goes beyond losing the self I was in the marriage.

She suggested to me that I didn't have to lose that focus on seeing the good in others.  I could choose to go through life with that perspective even knowing that I may sometimes get hurt and discover I was wrong.  She said sometimes for our mental health we make that choice to see the world in a positive light.

I think she is right.  And although it may seem difficult right now, I think I need to reclaim this characteristic I love so much about myself, my focus on the best in people.  I'm already proving I can do this with situations.  There's no reason I can't do the same with people.