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

Day 2 of a New Job

I finished my second day in my new job.  I am exhausted.  It's a good kind of exhausted.

I have met so many people and they all seem so nice and knowledgeable in the jobs they hold.  I've been thrown into four cases already and it feels good to be able to start digging and even contributing - this is what I do.  This is where I thrive.  

My office not only has windows but it has a view!

My commute is short, easy, and kind of fun.  I now live in a city with real public transit!  I can't wait to see all the places it will take me.  It was even easy the day I ended with a meeting at a state agency's office.  It allowed me to check out a new neighborhood as I made my way home a different route.

I feel so at peace right now and like I'm exactly where I belong.  Life feels absolutely amazing.

The universe sending me some tiny joy

One of the last drives I took with my ex-husband was while we were still living together but separated.  It was a trip to the T-Mobile store to separate our phones and each sign up for internet for our respective new apartments we would soon be moving into.  It was an awkward trip.

He was primary on that account, one of the few accounts where he was primary.  And what that meant in real terms was that he got to keep the grandfathered legacy cell phone plane that went back to our first smart phones.  It was cheap and a really good plan that was no longer offered.

I was pissed.  I was so overwhelmed with all I was having to figure out on my own for the first time and felt like I was getting the raw end of the deal in so many ways.  I felt like I was paying the consequences for his decision.  So this just added to those feelings.  It made the drive home even more awkward.

He tried to later tell me he wasn't eligible for as much of a discount on the internet as I was maybe to placate me but wasn't willing to tell me what he was then paying.

Eventually, the bigger picture of all I gained revealed itself and I moved past all the little injustices I felt.

So why am I writing about this today?  Because my social media feed is filled with T-Mobile customers complaining that they are cancelling all their older grandfathered legacy cell phone plans and forcing everyone not on my plan or newer to move to a current plan.  The comparable plan they now offer is more than what I pay now.  

I chuckle at every post I come across.  I'm not a petty person and I haven't wished ill on him at any point since he discarded me.  But I will allow myself this little joy the universe is sending me.

First Day of the New Chapter

It's Sunday morning and I don't have to drive back to Birmingham this afternoon.  I'm finally here here.  And I slept so well last night.

With each hurdle I overcame the last two months since I first got the job offer, I have felt my anxiety slowly fade away, my mind calm, and peace take over.  My last day in Birmingham and successfully getting myself to Atlanta yesterday was one of those hurdles.

Yesterday was quite the first day here.  I made an early start with a car packed fuller than any of the other loads - I might have underestimated how much I had left (or at least not budgeted space for all my work stuff).  Fortunately, I do still have to go back to clean at some point in the next six weeks before I turn the keys in so there will be another chance to get the rest.

My car was unloaded and plugged in by 11:00 a.m. (in the new time zone) giving me lots of day to enjoy.  First, I went to find my local branch of the library to get a library card.  It's right near the art museum and the Presbyterian church I plan to check out this morning, so I wandered that part of the neighborhood a bit.  There is so much to see in Midtown, every street takes me somewhere new with new experiences and new things to see.  I use my maps app to point me in the right direction and then I just walk.  At one point, I was handed a felt fortune cookie with a suggestion for sharing joy inside.  Mine encouraged me to take an elder out for lunch or coffee.

For lunch I wanted to try the Spanish tapas bar which is located in a really neat social space.  It's like an outdoor mall of food and drink with open space in the middle to sit, socialize, play games on the lawn space, etc.  And it has all kinds of restaurants, many with outdoor seating as well as outdoor coffee, wine, and cocktails bars.  The food, vibe, Spanish wine list, etc. of the Spanish tapas bar was excellent.  And I got to step back in my memories of my college study abroad experience as I savored tortilla española.  

I spent some time in the afternoon unpacking, napping, and then dressing for my evening.  Before I even had an official start date for my new job, I had purchased a VIP ticket to the Summer Party at the Atlanta Botanical Garden.  I love how it ended up falling on this weekend to celebrate the start of this new chapter.

The party was so much fun.  The Atlanta Community Symphony Orchestra had both a string trio and a brass quintet.  Both were so enjoyable to listen to in the wooded area of garden.  A New Orleans style brass band played in the Skyline Garden and then lead us on a parade through the garden just as the sun was setting.  The band near the VIP lounge had a male vocalist along with a variety of instruments that payed music that was easy to listen to.  

I  had fun decorating a lantern that I carried around as it started to get dark.  A face painter painted a butterfly on my face to match the ones I wore in my hair.  There was a lady that felt like a kindred spirit with the most magnificent dress.  It was a white color that was short in the front but so long in the back that it dragged on the ground.  The front had a huge butterfly at the waist.  And then along the hem of the back of the dress were 3D flowers and butterflies that even had lights she turned on when it got darker.

Then as it was ending and I was tired, I walked through Piedmont Park.  There were still plenty of people out - e-bikes racing, couples walking, etc.  And as I passed by the other building of my apartment complex, a man on his patio complimented my lantern.  I kind of chuckled as I continued walking because I realized carrying a paper lantern may attract compliments but it didn't feel out of place in Midtown where diversity and uniqueness are so common that just about anything seems to fit in.

What a truly amazing kick off to this new adventure I have embarked on in my life.

Today a chapter closes

Today a chapter closes.  It's my last day in Birmingham.  I can't believe this day has arrived.  

I'm taking a break from packing to eat some dinner one last time at the brewery across the street.  I don't think it's all going to fit in my car.  I guess that is fine.  I can prioritize.  I have to come back again anyway.  

I was sitting around a table full of colleagues for lunch.  I think there were 17 of us.  I couldn't talk to everyone at once.  I caught the eyes of the colleague who I have the greatest respect for and my eyes watered.  He doesn't usually go to these things but he was here today.  I've never had a better working relationship with anyone.  There are very few people in my life who have earned the level of respect and admiration I have for him.  And he demonstrated what a truly reciprocal relationship looks like.  

A retired colleague gave me a glass swan with a card that described how a swan is so beautiful and graceful from above but is often paddling furiously below.  She used to occupy the office next to me.

There was a moment when I stood in the hall back at the office with two women who had walked with me through it all.  They had witnessed me crying in their offices in my lowest moments and witnessed me dance for joy as the beautiful life I was building started to form.  They had listened, encouraged, advised, and sometimes just sat with me.  It was a reminder of how many people have walked with me over these last couple of years.

I will admit I lingered a bit.  Never again would I see them all in this context.  I didn't want to miss a moment.

And then after turning in my laptop, I walked home.  As I passed through the park, the Great Blue Heron was standing just off the path as if he was waiting for me.  How many times had he watched me walk through the park?  How many times had I paused to admire him?  I paused one last time.

Overwhelmed with love

I am overwhelmed with love.  I never could have imagined this feeling of care and love coming from so many people.

First it was the send off at church a week and a half ago where the hugs and well wishes wouldn't end.  I wrote about that in this post.  

Then there was Tuesday night with four amazing women who have become so dear to me.  Two of us started at the wine garden and then we all met for drinks at a rooftop bar with gorgeous views of the city on a day when the dew point had dropped and there was a beautiful breeze.  Four of us continued on to dinner at an upscale Japanese restaurant where we ordered what felt like endless small plates to share as we talked and laughed.  I was shocked when I looked at my watch for the first time as I was dropped off at my apartment to see it was 10:00 p.m.  It was an evening I will never forget.

Last night I met up with another friend for dinner.  She is my one local friend who predates the divorce.  We spent two and a half hours together which surprised me a bit as her life is so packed that she never seems to have that much time.  But it was so nice just to linger over conversation.  It reminded me of some of the easy conversations we had earlier in our friendship before life had gotten so crazy.

And the week is not done.  Tomorrow, my colleagues are taking me out to lunch.  My friend who is organizing it told me earlier this week, as many as 17 people may be coming, including three former colleagues!  There are colleagues who rarely go to these goodbye lunches who have told me they are looking forward to lunch with me on Friday.

Confidence

The scariest part of this move isn't whether or not I'll find new friends.  It has nothing to do with my new job and whether I am capable or whether I will like the work environment.  I'm not saying I don't feel any uncertainty related to either of those things but neither are intimidating or scary.  I know how to be alone and I've now proven I know how to make friends.  I've been successful in every job I have worked and found good people everywhere.

What scares me most was whether I would be able to adult on my own in a new city.  Would I be able to navigate finding a new apartment?  How would I know what neighborhood to start looking in?  How would I get my stuff to the new city?  Would I do a good job vetting movers and then interacting with them?  Would I be able to find a new insurance agent?  Etc.

So every time I mastered one of those things, I surprised myself and then the fear slowly started to fade away.

I suppose this is just a continuation from the separation.  I still remember how terrified I was that I wouldn't be able to manage my income and expenses.  Even those first scooter rides to choir without someone checking in on me were really scary.  And then when I took that first overnight trip, I struggled with even the smallest decisions, like which hotel room to choose during online checkin.  

On a rational level, none of this fear makes any sense to me.  I am that 20 year old young woman who got on a plane to Spain all by myself.  I am that 15 year old girl who sprinted through the Minneapolis airport with my 13 year old sister to make our plane and then got to know the airline personnel really well when snow closed the Grand Forks airport for our return trip and I called daily for updates and eventually rebooked our flights.  

I am the woman who even within my marriage handled most logistical things and solved problems.  When we moved south, I found our apartment complex and secured the unit we wanted.  I found our new insurance agent.  I set up our utilities and researched internet options.  I was even the one who found the realtor to sell our house and was the main contact to coordinate showings, the final walk through, and then the closing.  

When we initially bought that house years earlier upon moving back to southeastern Wisconsin, I was the one that read all the documents at closing and discovered a couple errors that needed correcting before we signed.

So why has my confidence been so lacking since the separation?  Why did I think I couldn't do it on my own?  Why the fear over tasks I had successfully navigated countless times over my life?

In one of those last interactions we had, my ex-husband told he was going to miss my resourcefulness.  Not once before that moment had he ever expressed any appreciation in that regard.  I actually often felt he resented my ability to handle things and in hindsight wonder if it was because he felt lacking in that area.  He definitely hated when I said anything that even remotely contradicted what he thought was best, especially if what I said turned out to be right.

He needed me to need him.  His perception of his manhood was directly tied to how useful he felt to a woman.  He actually accused me of emasculating him in that way as we were separating.  And although, he never said any of this out loud until we were separating, I think he communicated it in other ways over the years.  Because I always had to tip toe around his ego whenever I took care of things.  I felt like I had to make him feel like I needed him.  Maybe in that process I had convinced myself I needed him as well.

I'm sure society's expectations didn't help either.  Women are supposed to need men.  We are supposed to be helpless damsels in distress so that a man can come save us.  And although I grew up among some very strong, independent women, it still didn't really overcome the overarching societal attitudes.

I had a conversation with a colleague who I see as a very strong, independent woman who shared that she was in awe of someone close to her who had expressed that she didn't need a man to be okay.  She didn't seem to have fully reached that belief about herself, at least yet, which surprised me.  But maybe it shouldn't when I think about this journey of my own to build up my confidence being okay without a man by my side.

This move is going to be really good for me in so many ways.  One of those ways is how it is building up my confidence to go out, do more, be more, and create something beautiful that is beyond what I ever could have dreamed of.

Tonight I'm celebrating with friends so I put on my yellow dress and clipped a butterfly to my hair.  Here's to the start of something truly beautiful.

Angel Bear

There is an angel Vermont Teddy Bear sitting in a garbage bag on the floor of my apartment right now.  I collect teddy bears (or at least I have a collection of them - I haven't added to it in a while).  There is a selection of my favorite ones sitting on top of my kitchen cabinets now, waiting to be taken down and moved to Atlanta.  

The oldest one is Mr. Monkey (a monkey, not a bear I know) who was in my crib waiting for me when I was born.  He has bear status even if he is a monkey.  The next oldest one is a bear from the SS Norway, my first cruise when I was 13 years old.  Interestingly, I see I also have displayed the one I got on the Zuiderdam when we got married.  Maybe I kept that one displayed because I knew I would be making new memories on that ship, which is true.  I actually don't remember the ship as it was on our wedding cruise.  I remember it as it was last year with my family.

There are also ones from London that go back to 1999 and I think the tie dye one peaking out of a basket is a VW one.  Lolita, a VW Jetta was my favorite car.  And there is the one my cousins made for me with the help of my Grandma with some leftover fabric from the quilt my Grandma made me for college.  That one is truly special.

The angel bear is in a garbage bag because that is where I found her stuffed in the back of my closet when I packed up my apartment.  My ex-husband gave it to me when we were dating.  He told me I was his angel so he wanted me to have an angel bear to remind me of that.

It's from a quality bear company.  They still sell it for $95.  I imagine the price has gone up over time but it still wasn't a cheap bear for a college student over two decades ago.

I don't recall any other gifts he gave me.  I'm not saying he couldn't have given me other ones (my memory isn't perfect) but if he did, they were minimal and rare.

When I went to go fetch this angel bear in a garbage bag from the shelf tonight, I thought I would just throw it away.  But it is a teddy bear, from quality company, that is still in amazing shape.  I'm not sure I can throw it away.  Maybe that's silly.

I wonder how I would react to such a gift if I received it today.  With the clarity and maturity I have now, I don't really want to be anyone else's angel.  I was naive then.  I thought it was the sweetest thing anyone ever said to me.  But now it just feels like a message from someone who wants to be taken care of, someone who is dependent on another to be saved.  It comes with heavy responsibility.  It's not cute or sweet.

I don't know what I will do with this angel bear.  Part of me wants to reclaim it for myself, find a prominent place to display it, and look to it as the guiding angel within me.  Because that is the angel that is real, the divine spirit that has been ever so present through even my darkest days.  And it truly is a beautiful bear.  

Can I do that?  Can I divorce the man who gave it to me from the beauty of the symbol?  Or will it always be a reminder of him?

I'm ready.

Physically I sit at a table of my favorite brewery in Birmingham with a glass of stout as I reflect on the weekend and type this post.  Mentally, I'm still in Atlanta.  

My apartment here echos and all the dust bunnies and cobwebs that had built up under my furniture have been exposed to the light of day.

I felt a sharp intake of breath as the Birmingham skyline came into view as the interstate curved to force my eyes in its direction this afternoon as I returned.  But then I remembered my walk to church this morning where as I reached the top of a hill, I turned around and my gaze was drawn to the Atlanta skyline.  My breath caught at that sight too.  My past and my future overlapping in that moment.

What a weekend this was!  Aside from a few boxes of china that I wanted to wait to unpack until the rest is done, I have unpacked everything I brought to Atlanta.  I think all that remains here in Birmingham will fit in my car when I head back at the end of the week.  My new place truly feels like home.  And it feels so much bigger such that I can dance around the kitchen table and there is room for me to buy a new chair so that I can have space for company to sit comfortably!

I tried another new restaurant, a European style cafe that was so good.  There are so many restaurants to try.  Next on my list is a Spanish tapas place.

I visited a new church today.  It's a denomination I know nothing about but its website clearly articulated values in line with what I'm looking for.  It was just a little smaller than I was expecting but maybe that's okay.  The message was really good and I recognized the songs we sang, although I was disappointed when we only sang the first two verses and hymnals were missing so that I could see the harmonies to sing.

Some of the liturgy I'm familiar with was missing.  But the congregation felt fairly diverse and it felt welcoming although not overly extroverted.  The reminder that this wasn't going to be as easy as I was imagining humbled me.  I walked away wishing I had initiated more conversations but feeling like it could still be a contender.  I did like the banned book club they have that meets monthly.  And the service ended with the song Dancing Queen.

As I walked to and from church what I really appreciated is that this church hunt is that it is sending me in a different direction each time I choose a new one to try allowing me to see and get to know more parts of the city.

I'm ready.  I know I have one more week here in Birmingham.  But I'm ready to just move on.  Atlanta here I come.

Comparisons

I know I shouldn't but I still sometimes compare myself to my ex-husband.  As I waited in my air conditioned apartment as two men loaded a truck with all my stuff, I remembered the Penske truck I saw parked outside of his apartment a few months back that I fully expect he and his girlfriend loaded themselves.  I guess at least he had help this time.  Last time he moved completely on his own while I had a friend help me get my stuff out of our shared apartment.

And then I was reminded of a passing comment I heard from someone that he was barely in contact with the one local friend he had before the divorce started.  There has been no evidence he made any other friends to replace that one until he met his next girlfriend.  I have built a huge community in Birmingham and am ready to build another in Atlanta.

And I think back to the Instagram post I saw last fall (back when I still occasionally checked his account) where he mentioned taking his date to Olive Garden while I was taking myself out three course meals at nice local restaurants.

He moved into someone else's home.  I upgraded to a larger place of my own in a whole new city.

I'm sure he is just repeating the same exact patterns with a different person.  I have found peace, growth, and joy and am barely recognizable from the person I was in that marriage.

I know I need to just focus on my own journey.  We all have our own paths.  Maybe this is meant to be a reminder that our paths needed to diverge so that I could find myself here in this moment with a bright future ahead of me.  I didn't get left behind.  I got freed to travel my own path.

I slept almost ten hours last night, waking up only once to use the bathroom.  It already feels like home despite the fact that I only moved in yesterday and still have plenty to unpack.  I think this next chapter is going to be pretty great.

Moving Day

I sit at my kitchen table eating dinner I picked up from Jason's Deli, the restaurant in my building.  The washer is running so I can put a clean mattress pad back on my bed before I make it.  All of my furnishings are familiar yet they now sit in a new place.  The sounds are different.  The view out the window is different.  

Hiring movers is a bit like magic.  I watched everything disappear from my Birmingham apartment and then watched it all appear in Atlanta, just where I wanted it.  The move went so smoothly.  I really couldn't have asked for anything better.

It was an interesting pair that moved me - one from Birmingham, one from the Atlanta area.  The one from Birmingham called me brave and commented on the shear number of people in Midtown.  The other was excited for me about all that Atlanta has to offer.

I still have plenty of unpacking to do but this space really feels wonderful and it feels so good to truly be here.

Tomorrow, I'm going to focus on unpacking and find a good restaurant or two to try.  And maybe I'll figure out what is going on at Piedmont Park and in Midtown for Juneteenth.  I think there might be a parade.

Sunday, I am excited to try a new church.  It's one associated with the United Church of Christ about a mile from my house.  I don't really know anything about that denomination but their website closely aligns with my values so I can't wait to meet some people.

And then I have a week of work back in Birmingham before I can live here full time.

Leaving work

I walked home in the rain today, a steady but fairly light rain.  Water drops dripped down my bangs and onto my face.  There was a bit of coolness in the air.

It was much needed after walking out of what felt like a dumpster fire at work.  Employees with a strong work ethic often get taken advantage of.  It can really create a bit of a toxic environment, especially as others seem to get away with doing very little work.  But there are added layers to it in the office I'm soon leaving that are creating pretty significant negative consequences.  Some people may have been pushed too far.

I feel immense relief.  I can guess what was on my path had I stayed and it would have been pretty miserable for no meaningful reason.

I feel guilt.  Some of my colleagues who I have come to respect and admire are being thrown into the chaos.  How many will still be standing when the year is over?

I feel a bit detached.  I'm so close to being out the door, just five work days left.  It's not my circus anymore.

And it all feels really weird that this will be what my ending at this office looks like.  I was thinking today as I walked home that my supervisor is on leave next week.  He never found a moment this week to say goodbye or wish me well.  The last conversation I had with him was I think a week and a half ago.  One of the last comments he said to me directly was a dismissive dig.  Sadly, I'm not surprised by that.  So much of the chaos stems from him.  And if what I suspect is true, my leaving put a real wrench in his plans.  It feels like resentment in the air.

It's funny, I'm not sure I even really wanted a last conversation with him yet not having it feels like something is missing.  I guess it goes back to that need to feel seen and heard, something that has been sorely missing in this job from anyone besides my immediate team.

But enough about that.  My colleagues, my peers are set to celebrate with me next Friday and I have a group of girlfriends making plans for an evening next week and another friend who has reached out to make plans.  Lots of people who do care are making time for me.

And now, I have worked to do.  Movers come tomorrow morning at 8:00 a.m. and I chose to goof off last night instead of pack so I really have my work cut out for me.  Maybe I'll find a playlist to help me focus.

Imaginary Conversations

As I walked home today, an imaginary conversation played in my head.  I don't know if it is normal or not but I often have imaginary conversations in my head with all the people in my life.  Sometimes it is replaying a conversation I already had and tweaking it to what I wish I had said.  Sometimes it's saying the things I wish I could say.  Sometimes I think they are just an imaginary sounding board for something I'm trying to work out.

Today's imaginary conversation was with my ex-husband.  It was the conversation I sometimes wish we could have to reflect on the relationship.  I've had this conversation many times over the last twenty-one months, although it is never exactly the same as I am never in exactly the same spot in my healing. 

Fortunately, the frequency of this conversation has really slowed down to months in between.  I'll take that as a good sign for my healing.

I think what triggered it is the impending move, for several reasons.  

For two decades, he was the person I shared everything with, the little and the big things.  Now, I recognize that he never would have been willing to move to Atlanta.  He wouldn't have been able to benefit from it.  And in hindsight I realize his level of enthusiasm for my news was in direct proportion to how well it benefited him.  So I doubt I would have gotten any enthusiasm from him.  I mean I wouldn't have even applied for this promotion had we still been together.  So maybe this is a moot point.  But I still miss having a go-to person for all my news.

Although, I'm not sure that was my main motivation for this imaginary conversation.

Deep down, I think what I really wanted was for him to see my glow and my peace.  I wanted him to feel the loss.  I wanted him to see what I could have been if he hadn't drained and shrunk me.   

Logical me recognizes that it wouldn't do a damn bit of a difference.  His insecurities and shame and misery and whatever eats him from the inside would keep his eyes shut to the truth.  He still wouldn't be able or willing to actually see or understand me.  Is that what this is?  A need to feel seen and understood.  Aren't I started to get that with the community I'm building?  Why do I still feel this need from him?

I imagined him commenting on the peace he saw and asking about it.  I found myself wanting to tell him that what he taught me is that it doesn't matter what words I choose or how I convey my message, someone intent on misunderstanding will never understand.  I had no interest anymore in answering his questions or explaining anything to him.  Although, I suppose even sharing that lesson I learned with him would be a form of explaining myself.

I suppose I always imagined that someday we would run into each other and have a conversation like the ones I've been having in my head.  But the days are disappearing when that chance encounter is even possible.  When he moved out this spring, it eliminated chance encounters where we live.  But all this time, we have worked just three blocks apart.  That will only be true for seven more work days.

And then I won't even be in the same time zone as him.

Maybe I'll always be baffled by how two people can spend 22 years together and then suddenly depart one day without even an honest conversation, never to speak again.  But maybe having a time zone between us and the excitement of a new chapter will get me to finally stop asking the question why.  

Maybe someday soon, he will cease to participate in any of the imaginary conversations I have in my head.

Goodbyes

I sat up in the balcony in my choir robe surrounded by a community I had participated in for the last seven years as we waited for the service to start.  My eyes felt a bit wet as I reflected on my time in that space under the glow of the stain glass windows.  

I remembered that first summer of the separation where I consistently showed up for church even though in past years I took much of the summer off because it was where I felt I needed to be.  I would choose a pew behind people I knew so I could be close to someone familiar even if I didn't talk to them much.  The sermon series ironically that August was "Meltdowns - When Things Fall Apart."  Parts of each service would trigger me and I would feel tears silently fall down my cheeks.  On one of those early Sundays, a woman who had learned my name on my first Sunday at this church and used it every Sunday after, came and silently sat next to me.  This was a space that held my grief without judgment in my darkest moments.

Then I looked at all the people around me and all the people I could see below and was reminded of the connections I had made at church retreats and events, before and after services, and in the choir room.  They had supported me, watched me grow, loved me, and made me feel seen and heard.

Then just before the final hymn, my choir director took advantage of the mic to share with the congregation that this was my and another choir member's last Sunday and to share a few things about our journey.  He shared how I had been with them before and through the pandemic and spent a year during the pandemic recording videos of myself singing my part from my kitchen table for him to splice together with other voices, something that was so incredibly hard and took a lot of courage to do.  Through those recordings and regular Zoom calls, the choir was a constant even when we couldn't meet in person.

My voice broke as I sang that last hymn.  

And then we gathered at the front to sing The Lord Bless You and Keep You after the benediction, something we often do to end the service.  Except this time, my choir director had asked the congregation to raise their hands towards that choir to bless the two of us leaving as we sang.  My fellow choir members standing closest to me all rested a hand on me to send their own blessing.  I don't know how I made it through that song but it definitely wasn't with dry eyes.

The service ended with more hugs than I could have imagined from not only the people who knew me well but others who didn't even know my name until that day but still wanted to wish me well.  I lost count of how many people told me they loved me, would miss me today, and hoped I would come back and visit.

Pride

The last colors of the sunset lingered in the sky.  My eyes followed the trail of the long ribbon that twirls through the area s my body followed.  Enveloped in a community, I danced as we moved through the streets of Birmingham.  The crowd noise was deafening.  A smile hadn't left my face since we stepped off.  I took in all the diversity.  None of us dance to quite the same beat, yet we meld together in the most beautiful way.

I looked over at my friend.  Joy radiated from her face too.  She wasn't planning on coming because she struggles to find her car at the end in the dark since we don't start and end at the same place.  I made a deal with her - she pick me up and I would take responsibility for getting her back to her car.  She jumped at the offer and so together we experienced the joy, the love, the energy, the community.

Then out of nowhere, a college student I sing with ran through the parade and gave me a huge hug before continuing on to greet someone else.  And a block later, a friend on the sidelines ran up to me for a hug.

About halfway through the parade another woman from my church turned to me and said, "You have to come back for this next year."  Maybe I will.  My friend even reminded me she has an extra bedroom and I could come stay with her, go to the parade together, and then I could sing with the choir the next morning before heading back to Atlanta.

I have never felt so free as I did last night or as I did in the 2025 Pride Parade.  I think we all long for a space where we feel comfortable enough to dance as if no one were watching, a space where we don't worry about what people think, a space where we can just be.

One thing that makes this move to Atlanta so exciting for me is that when I walk down the streets of Midtown, I get closer to that feeling than I ever have in a city before.  It's one thing to get one night a year like a Pride Parade.  What would it be like to have a little bit of that every time I walked out my front door?

Happy Pride Month!