There’s a few people I confide in when life seems like it’s bringing me down. When the everyday tends to feel heavy, and when things seem overwhelmingly unfair. It’s hard to get out from under that feeling at times, and there are days when I feel I may get sucked in. I seem to always be saved by someone, or something, but lately I’ve found I am strong enough to save myself.
Finally, I am getting to the point where I don’t remember exactly how badly I hurt.
How I lived in a fog, a tunnel, and constant state of quiet dullness.
This past week I was driving, and suddenly found myself daydreamed back into the painful period right after my marriage came crashing down. As I drove I suddenly found myself crying. I didn’t even know I was there until I felt the tears on my cheeks. The moment I snapped out of it was the moment I realized how far I've come, and how much I’ve actually healed. For the first time in 2.5 years, I accepted the pain, and I was ok with it. I didn’t shut it down. I felt it. And I let it go.
And it felt so incredibly good.
At that same moment I realized how much more room I have to give, how much more I can grow, and how much deeper I can now love.
The pain no longer owns me.
I’ve had a lot of talks with friends lately about facing the holidays and all “the perfect” families that are so prominent this time of year. It’s a painful thing to face at times. What I'm doing myself, and what I tell them they must do, is simply accept and live their own life.
It’s about owning the imperfect, and accepting that perfection is only is the essence of accepting yourself and your situation for what it is.
I used to wake up surrounded by 12 people on Christmas morning back home in Nebraska. This year I will wake up with my three girls on Christmas morning. I have chosen to embrace my situation, because it proves to my girls that we are enough together. Our family, “broken” as it may be, is solid.
Then, after I drop the girls with their dad Christmas afternoon, I’ll confide in my friends and family as I go to bed on my own.
Alone, and peacefully hurting.