As you’ve probably figured out by now, this has been one big old year of change for me. I finally found the courage to take a stand against my mean husband and ended our 14 year relationship by being firm in the separation, I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia, lost my job and income of 14 years and pretty much have started a whole new journey in life.
Do I feel sorry for myself at times? You, bet your ass I do, but I’m not letting any of those life altering things bring me down.
In general, I have my good days and I have my bad.
On my bad days, I sit and cry for hours while mourning for my old life, the one that I had with my husband when times were good and the one I had with my body when my health wasn’t bad. I mourn for my career that I had put so much time and dedication into and the pride I felt when I spoke of my successes. I listen to songs that remind me of how I had felt for so long and sob out in sorrow as I sing along.
On my good days, I imagine all the possibilities ahead of me, I realize that I am still so young and I finally have the chance to raise my children in a healthy and stress free environment. I feel strong on my good days and thank the bad ones for making me realize how strong I truly am… Despite being told how weak I was for so many years. I am proud to have broken the cycle that I was too afraid to walk away from and feel excited to think of the kind love I deserve and will find someday. I listen to those sad songs that have cried out my feelings to and feel relieved that I no longer feel trapped in the lyrics anymore.
I tried for so many years to make my marriage work. I thought if I dedicated myself to making it work it would. I did things to change myself, I tried being his perfect wife, to be patient and quiet so that he wouldn’t be so mean all the time. I dragged it out, over and over, telling myself that one day we would just be happy. I thought it took a lot of strength and courage to fight it out and that our relationship would someday become deeper. He only got angrier, more comfortable and cared less. I know that I have given all I had and looking back now I see that I wasn’t very strong until I finally took the stand.
It’s not either one of our faults that we aren’t compatible, we just aren’t and the signs had been there all along. I will always have a love for him and care for him more deeply than can be explained but to be in love with him, that isn’t something I’ve honestly felt in over a decade. That’s not fair to any of us, not to him, to me, or most importantly, to our babes.
Just the other day I thought about all the changes I’ve made to my home. Everything looks so different in here and though I’ve wanted to change things for quite some time, I couldn’t find the inspiration. I think rearranging and redecorating has been a part of the healing process for me. I’ve felt inspired to make changes that suit the life I have desired for so long. A quiet house, a peaceful home. Maybe I’ve made so many changes in an effort to erase all the bad memories, maybe to make me feel stronger, maybe to make us all feel safe.
With every change I’ve made so far when he stops by he doesn’t really say a word. Maybe a shot here and there, but never outright said anything looked bad. Not that I care, because I am making the changes for the kids and I, but I can’t help but take note of his reactions.
Last night, however, was different. He stopped by to switch cars and wandered his way upstairs to talk to Natalie. Then he saw my latest project and wasn’t so happy. I’ve switched rooms with my son and picked a color that my soul gravitated towards. I didn’t ask his opinion as I did in our old room, I am creating the room for me. For my sanity, for my pleasure, and for my peace. He’s not coming back and I believe this change is the one that will make him really start to accept it.
He came downstairs after talking to Natalie and said to me, “That color you picked… You might as well have squirted this all over the walls,” pointing to the mustard on the table. He snarled and tried to make me insecure with his obnoxious degrading laugh,”it’s awful.”
My reply, through an honest smile, was simply, “I love it, it’s the perfect color for me.”
There are still a lot of things I am doing to my new
master mistress bedroom, but here is a little preview of the first step. I’ll update as the project moves along, but to waiting to write until it was completely finished would be a very long time. This is going to be bigger than the bathroom project and the most important one in terms of really letting go of the old “me” and moving on.