I find myself writing here after I have realized (again) that when I learn others' journeys in any way, it makes me feel connected. It makes me feel like I'm not alone. It helps with my ongoing healing. So, perhaps this will resonate with even one person. I have not tapped into my grief for awhile. I enjoy my daily life very much. I sleep well. I am happy...and I am continuing to heal.
I have 3 recent examples of healing through people I do not know:
1. Watching a Ted Talk,
2. Reading A Beautiful, Terrible Thing by Jen Waite,
3. Seeing an interview of Pink on Ellen.
In Pink's interview she shared that her biggest challenge is injustice. She doesn't do well with it and hasn't learned where to place it when it happens. This is me. BIG TIME. Several parts of my story are unjust. I know it's part of life but it's just so plainly wrong and hard. I felt her words and know it's part of my challenge. My feelings come around to that in others' stories too.
What's been eye opening is that before all of this, I thought grief was reserved for death. I did not consider that grief can happen from all sorts of life experiences. As one of my friends said, I am a champion of not allowing myself to accept the pain in my story. I deem other painful life circumstances as much greater than mine. Almost the idea that I have no right to share about this because I recognize that worse things can and do happen. It has resulted in me being hard on myself for not just always staying happy and grateful for what is my life. But the truth is I am happy. I am grateful. And those feelings can coexist with grief. It's not either or, it's both and all. WOW!
I didn't associate what I was experiencing as grief and then when I did, I thought I would go through the stages and be done with it. I also thought that grief only involved things in the past. So so wrong. Because the truth is that this story is not just in the past, it is still happening and part of my life and interactions. Even if it was still all behind me, grief doesn't work that way. The differences between how it was then and how it is now with the person who was once my favorite human on the planet, is blaring. It's confusing in a way that will never have answers. The way it went down and the way it is now is, simply stated, sad.
In the Ted Talk, grief was described in a way that made more sense than I have ever heard. She shared that
grief is not something you move on from, it is something you move forward with.
This explanation allows me to still be in touch with the painful parts of my story instead of beating myself up for not being totally "over it." It allows me to be kinder to myself and not wonder what the hell is wrong with me when things still hit me or make me sad or angry.
When I happened upon this talk while scrolling my FB feed, I was also reading the book, A Beautiful, Terrible Thing by Jen Waite. It is a memoir of marriage and betrayal and the fact that her name is Jen is no coincidence. There were many times in the book when her name was said and it was as if the words were mine. Since my own experience, I have read or learned of personal stories around me on the same matter. It amazes me how every story is exactly the same, just with different names and minor details. I thought my story was unique. It is not. And the whole thing fascinates me.
This book was new to me in one way- a certain reaction I had that I had never had before. At one point of her story I closed my book and turned off my light and just cried. I wanted to reach through the pages and hug her while she cried on her bedroom floor. I wanted to tell her that it would get better. That she will sleep again. That the daily/nightly vomiting will end. That she will smile and laugh again. That she will be happy again. She knows that now, but she didn't know it then. I felt her pain.
For the first time, I cried for the Jen I was at that time.I cried for that version of who I was who was so traumatized, incredibly scared and mostly confused. That version couldn't comprehend what had happened behind her back and what was happening in real time in reaction to that. She was shocked by the betrayal but even more shocked by the behaviors and actions that followed.
I cried for her (me) then. Not for me now.
Like Jen Waite says, it's a beautiful, terrible thing. The most beautiful is the growth and discovery of the depths of myself, opening and learning in ways I never would have. The most terrible has been the loss of the time with my kids. It's something I would never choose and there is nothing I can do to change it. Nothing can replace it. It's forever lost and I have resentment that it was taken away.
I trust my journey. I just don't always like it. I am continuing to learn to show myself grace when I feel things I think I shouldn't (or don't want to) feel. My friends and family continue to show me grace when I reach out in need of support or just needing to get something off my chest.
It's been 4 years and when I hear that, I feel like I should be in a different place. But then I realize that I am holding myself to a standard of what I perceived this process would be like and I AM in a different place. Always. And when I look back on the 4 years I see how incredibly far I've come. This post sounds like I think about it every day. I don't. I am a happy person AND this is part of me.
Every time I connect with another's similar story, it validates my own. My definition of a strong woman has changed from someone who doesn't let things bother her, who doesn't allow herself to feel the pain of her story to one who allows the feelings in, accepts them for what they are, and moves forward with them.
It's a beautiful thing (with a sprinkle of terrible). Such is this Unexpected Single Life.
Onward. Upward. Forward.
