I was 4 months pregnant when my ex-husband and I started our divorce proceedings. I remember getting served divorce papers and even though I asked for the divorce. It wasn’t until I received the divorce papers that I began to conceptualize my divorce. I sat there looking at my divorce papers all while thinking what I am going to now. I thought to myself who am I? My entire world was crashing down around me. I was pregnant and getting a divorce and had just been laid off from my job of 12 years. My dog had just died a few months prior. I literally stood there and tried to cry. I couldn’t. I didn’t know what to do. On top of it all.It looked like my divorce was going to be nasty court battle
As my entire world was colliding. I knew that one of two things could happen. I could let my divorce eat me alive like the flesh-eating disease it is or I could fight back. I thought shit I’ve gotten this far why fall apart now. I put my big girl panties on and fought back kicking and screaming the entire way. It’s funny because as I was getting served divorce papers in breath I was thinking what I am going to do. I didn’t have a plan, but I still had a sense of freedom come over me. I was so relieved. I was Happy. I know, that sounds crass right?
Here I am 4-5 months pregnant and I’m happy. I know in my previous blog. know I talk about how hard it was in previous blog , but I want to let you know. I have never felt so relieved to be free. Free to be me.When People get married often times we have these unrealistic expectations of our spouses. My ex-husband would tell me how perfect I was. There was a lot of pressure to live up to being perfect, his expectations were completely unrealistic. To be perfect at everything was not fun. I have to admit I. I really tried hard to be perfect, but eventually I couldn’t act like Barbie no more. I felt as if our marriage failed. I was the blame. I did everything that I could to be perfect.
I jumped through so many different hoops, but ultimately I couldn’t fake being perfect any longer. I was exhausted. I had enough. The day I got divorce papers was the day I started to live again. In previous post I talked about planning a trip of a lifetime to New York. I had so many places I wanted to go, things that I wanted to do. I was now free to indulge in it all. Delightfully so I I did just that.
There were many times I had pity parties, however I decided to live. I decided to figure out what I loved and pursed it, I found myself .I’m still finding myself, but I started to really love myself again. I planned that trip to NY that my ex didn’t want to go on. I fed my soul, was it hard? Hell yes, but I come from the school of optimistic. We live once. I knew that god had something better planned for me. I knew that I was born to do more in life then just be someone’s wife and sit on the sidelines while my ex-husband fulfill his dream. I had dreams too. I started to do what made me happy. I began to live for myself again. What I uncovered about myself is absolutely amazing. I discovered that, I was even stronger than I thought. I discovered that I can do all things, but only through god.
Growing up, I always had these crazy dreams of becoming a writer.When I was 15 I decided to enter a literal guild poem contest. The very poem that I had submitted at 15 was called “free to be me” I bring this up because one day when I was cleaning out the very box that my ex-husband named junk, he stuffed all my child hood sentimental items in this box. As I was looking through the box named junk. I came across this particular poem, named “free to be me”
As I was reading this poem. A poem I had forgotten about. I thought to myself that my 15-year-old self was bold, she was fearless. She was a dreamerShe was amazing. As I was reading this poem, tears started to pour down my cheek. I thought I was no longer this fearless 15-year-old with fearless dream…I was a scared Mother of 2. That day was the day I said, I could either let this divorce swallow me whole or I could live again. I chose to live again. My 32 old self reconnected with the 15-year-old fearless girl who, I have so much respect for. If it wasn’t for her there would be no fearless 35-year-old. I can say today that. I will always have the utmost respect for my 15-year-old self. She was young and nieve, but she was bold & fearless, sometimes you have to take a step back in order to take a step forward. In the next blog I will continue to share with you how I started to live again. What I did to propel my dreams and to tackle my fears….