Phew! The last month….amiright?
Well, almost a month, it will be three weeks tomorrow that Hurricane Harvey rolled through South Texas. My city has pretty much gotten back into the groove of things and we’ve taken some huge leaps in getting everyone back to some type of normal.
I was struck with the urge to write this last night, but my brother and his beautiful girlfriend are in town and I had made plans to go visit with them and have dinner, and I’m really glad I did. Not only is spending time with them – and the rest of my family – like drinking in the sun, but I am also glad I had a chance to roll these thoughts through my head a little bit longer.
These last three weeks have forced me to make what felt like hundreds of decisions – some large, some small and some huge, all by myself. To have no partner to defer to because I just couldn’t make another choice. This is the first time in my 46 year life that I’ve had all the responsibility and decision making fall squarely on my shoulders and no one else. There was a time….okay, a huge chunk of decades where I couldn’t make decisions. Decisions were hard, m’kay? I would always worry about how my decisions would be seen by my significant other, how they would affect that other person. It got to be so much internal pressure that I would eventually become kind of paralyzed and my go-to phrase was “whatever you want to do is fine”.
That line right there “whatever you want to do is fine” got my butt in a lot of trouble over time, because I gave up all my power. Power I didn’t even realize I had the capability to utilize. Power that I didn’t really even know was there until I had to call it off the bench and put it in the game. I have had feelings of strong empowerment over the past year, clearly so much empowerment that I felt the need to start a blog about it. These last three weeks though, have shown me the strength inside that power.
These last few days since Hurricane Irma pummeled the South Florida coast – namely Key West, Florida where my ex-husband lives had me back at that place of feeling powerless. I experienced the exact same fear and fragility that I did the days after I kicked him out and was looking into the deep, dark expanse of alone that made me feel so unsure and exposed. I was so afraid of losing him.
Now hold on, dear Feminist Friends and Supportive Cheerleaders, let me clarify a few things right here, right now. I have had several people ask me outright “why do you even care?”, or asking outright why I didn’t hope he got wiped off the planet. I’m supposed to hate him right? He’s my ex-husband, he’s the cad who did all kinds of bad things and left me broken hearted and weeping in a puddle on the floor, wasn’t he? Ok – he made some choices, but he’s not a mustache twisting villain. More importantly, he’s the man I was married to and in love with for more than twenty years. Even more importantly than that, he is the father to my child. The people who have stepped up the last few days and asked why do you care haven’t taken into account what him dying in the ocean during a hurricane – or dying of anything – would do to her. Losing him to death would change that young woman. It would be a wound that would alter the course of her life. I don’t want that for her. I don’t want that for him.
So let’s not even venture down the road of there being a chance he and I could reconcile because we’ve experienced the real likelihood of the other one dying. That ain’t gonna happen, ya’hear? I have no desire to get back together with him and be his wife. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want that either. What this experience did do; however, was remind us that we are friends. The last five years of our marriage (at least) had devolved into more of a friendship, if I’m honest and when the chips are down, I will always reach out simply to make sure he’s ok, just as he showed me he would do for me when we were facing Hurricane Harvey. He checked in several times just to make sure I wasn’t losing my shit.
I’m digressing, of course – that’s not what this blog is about. This blog is about this Single Gal proving she’s got the cojones to adult when the going gets tough…and scary…and hurricaney. I look back on the last three weeks and the decisions I’ve made and I am so proud of the independent woman I’ve become. Of course, I had moments of feeling really out of my comfort zone and sometimes had to take some time to let my head spin out of control and get sideways, but sooner or later, I would find my balance again and the decisions would be made.
As I get closer to the anniversary of my marriage imploding I see how far I’ve come, how I’ve grown, how I’ve matured, and how I’ve become a pretty cool Bad Ass Boss Babe in the adulating department. I still have no desire to date, frankly because I like coming home and climbing into my comfy bed with a gazillion pillows without judgement – just ask anyone who follows my SnapChat. I am always snapping deep thoughts from my bedroom. It probably looks pretty depressing & lazy from the outside, and maybe it is – but I don’t care because I’m the boss of me. Man, I love that line, I’m The Boss Of Me. Maybe that will be the title of my book. Nobody steal it, ok?
So here we are, back in the saddle of Single And Selfish. See, I told you she’d be back. The last couple of blog posts have been a little more dark and scary, at least from my side of things, but I see the light peeking through the clouds and I’m looking forward to what’s ahead.