Tranquility

In my personal life, I have achieved about month 13 of peace and tranquility. A few realities have come to light:

I recognize now that tangibly, I am separate from my marriage and divorce. I see myself as entire person in my own right, now. How can I tell? When I read articles about the aftermath of divorce now, my response is, "This doesn't apply to me." The wound is healed, though perhaps some scars remain. Maybe some always will... maybe not. Regardless, it's all okay.

I recognize now that a year ago, when I wanted a boyfriend and chose to explore online dating, I quite simply wasn't ready, not for the excitement or the anxiety, the risk and the judgement and the rejection... or the flip side of love and support and nurturing. I wasn't strong enough on my own to share me with anyone else. Am I now? Maybe. Maybe not. Regardless, it's all okay.

I recognize now that my individuality is not only acceptable but essential for my adult peace of mind. In recognize that in some ways, I extended my childlike role with my parents into my marriage; I kept my own counsel and never challenged him or stood up for my needs (though the courtship was the place for such testing; had I been stronger during the courtship, I could have spared myself the divorce). That error is my role in my divorce. I forgive myself for it, for being naive, for choosing unwisely, and for making a mistake that offends my moral values. All I can do is improve the next time. If there is one.

I recognize that people are inherently flawed, so expecting them to support me in ways both physical and emotional sets me up for failure. That is, the people do not fail me, it's my misplaced expectations of the people and misuse of our relationship, or needing them beyond their capabilities, that fails me. For this, faith is essential. I am wary of "religion," especially the cult-like attitudes and behaviors I've encountered, but I retain an old-fashioned faith. I am an important part of this burgeoning universe. I have purpose and merit. I am forgiven my transgressions. The love that created me is the only thing that can also sustain me with purpose, strength, and clarity. Perhaps the faithless see this process of faith as "looking within yourself" to find what I need. For that, perhaps it is; faith is not empiricle. At the same time, I know how easy it is to lie to myself. It's harder to lie when God is refereeing.

I realize that my essential unhappiness comes from failing to meet my own expectations for moving into the future. After the divorce, I wanted to "be better" as fast as possible, not endure an extra second of suffering. I figured, "fake it until I make it." But I didn't count on bitterness. I didn't count on a serious hit to my self-esteem. I didn't grasp what had happened to my ability to trust others. Actually, my faith in others, borne of a lifetime of nurturing stability and unselfish love from my family, was such a defining characteristic of my personality that losing it created an enormous psychological wound. A void. While I have begun to fill that void and grow into the person I am as I sit here, this person is not same person, and trusting others is hard now. I realize it, though. Maybe that's good. Regardless, it's all okay.

I am scared a lot still. That's okay too. Feeling scared is just a feeling. So I'll feel it. But I am a heroine. Courage doesn't mean I never feel scared. Courage means persevering in spite of it.

And I give myself bonus points for trying. Always trying! Trying to move forward, even when I go two steps back. Even when I know people want to scream. Even when I want to scream at myself. In the end, it's been an adventure. I've learned a lot, and I'm a better person for it. I like myself better now than I did four years ago, though I'm not happy most of the time. That's ironic. And, it's okay.