It has become very interesting to me to see the evolution of my friends before, during and after my divorce as compared to me being a friend to someone who is getting a divorce. Friendships with adults is not tricky unless only one of you is actually an adult. It amazes me that the filing of a divorce can send a friendship right back to high school in the blink of an eye; sides get chosen and hearts get broken. I have tried very hard to be cordial to the ex husbands and ex wives of my friends, especially when there is children involved, because I am an adult and I know that there are always two sides to every coin. I have tried extremely hard to be cordial to my ex-husband's friends. I also know how much blaming and accusing helps a relationship which is about as much as taking a knife to a tank fight. I also felt like their divorce was none of my business and if they chose to ask for my opinions or my help, I was there to be a friend and help not tell them how to live their lives. As far as my ex husband's friends, well they were never really great friends of mine anyways so nothing really had changed.
During my divorce, I had several good friends that tried to distract me from everything I was going through. I was an angry, crazy mess sometimes and looking back now I know they did the best they could dealing with that. My friends loved me and there wasn't a real loyalty issue, because frankly none of them were really friends with my ex husband. They were cordial with him and even waved when he had the boys. They did really exactly what I expected, but there were times when I really needed to just be sad or angry and I noticed my friends really didn't want to deal with that. They didn't want to dig deep with me and find out exactly what the issues were surrounding WHY I got a divorce and maybe they couldn't because they had some of the same issue going on in their own marriages that they were not dealing with either. My friends kind of fell into a few groups. The one's that wanted me to go out and party, forgetting my responsibilities for a little while and just let loose were my Friday-Saturday friends. My work friends that knew I was going through a divorce and helped me by letting me take extra breaks just in case my ex called and told me to hang in there helping me through the days. Lastly, my really close friends that knew there was nothing they could do or say to make things better, but they would just cry with me sometimes and hug me. I can honestly say I really only had one friend that did that. She has been my friend for all of my life practically and we truly have an amazing connection that will never ever go away. I also had my family that I leaned on a great deal, but considering my parents were also going through a divorce at the same time, it was often difficult for them to be supportive. Even with all my support from my friends and family, I felt incredibly alone, sad and tired. I had regret and confusion and host of emotions that nobody really understood. Looking back I think it was difficult for my friends to see me undone. I was someone they looked at as stable, in a good relationship, a good mom, and happy. Looking back, I realize my friends really didn't know me at all. My really close friend, my mother, and a few work friends had know I was having problems with depression and financial issues, but honestly I think they were all pretty shocked when I filed for divorce. After filing, as I began to tell people the hell I had been going through for the last several years, people were shocked. I decided then I wasn't going to lie to myself or my friends about my life anymore. I think, surprisingly, that has shown me who these people I had called friends really were.
I recently had a discussion with some of my friends about divorce. One of my closer friends has filed and I was her maid of honor at her wedding. A situation happened and it was within my definition of physical abuse. To me, this changes the entire divorce. I would have a protective order in place and either end visitation until my spouse undergoes so psychological evaluations, or just end visitation. My friend has decided that because she had an affair the abuse was provoked and therefore excusable. Some of my other friends feel since they had a prior relationship with the abuser that they have a certain amount of loyalty toward him. One thing all of my friends know about me is I have ZERO tolerance for physical abuse in a relationship. I felt they had all gone to great lengths to conceal some of these facts from me and it is difficult for me to be any kind of friend to any of them if they are going to allow this behavior and then lie about it to me. I can't make excuses for abuse. It is what it is. I love my friends, but abuse is not acceptable behavior and allowing it to continue in front of a child is something I can't watch. Looking back, I realize they couldn't watch my divorce because they did not want to deal with any of the issues I was bringing up, but also because they didn't want to deal with anything. They don't want to deal with why they are unhappy which was the root of why I wanted a divorce. I wasn't happy and there was no way within the confines of that marriage I was ever going to be allowed to be myself. I had explored the reasons for my unhappiness and most of them had little to nothing to do with my ex husband. I was unhappy because of me. My friends don't even seem to be unhappy. They can't even acknowledge that it is unacceptable to be hit, pushed or locked in a bedroom and threatened with bodily harm by the people they living with. How do you be a friend to someone who can't even be themselves? Maybe I really don't know my friends either?
I consider myself a good friend. I listen. I don't judge people because I believe everyone can learn to do better, I try to see the good in them and go with that. I know I don't want to live someone else's life and I don't even want to begin to tell them how to live theirs. I offer help when I see a need and I empathize. Even though I can't support some of my friend's decisions, I always let them know I will be there to help them in any way. I hope my friends can see that, but I also know that friendship is a two way street. I learned that if I didn't reach out for help, sometimes people don't realize you need it. Most of all, I am honest and I'm real. I am the kind of friend I would want. It is difficult when you see people you love in difficult situations and they don't want your help, don't want to deal with life, and don't want to stay safe. I guess sometimes you have to look at who your friends really are and decide if they are the kind of friends you need or want. Most of all you have to be your own best friend.
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Friday, April 19, 2013
The Great Divide
Often I have thought about what exactly led to my divorce, circumstances, factors and what was the real cause. In every article, book, and therapy session I discovered some part of why I chose to end my marriage. I have asked myself a million times if I could have salvaged my marriage. The answer is always no. I couldn't have done anything, but WE could have. My ex-husband could have done quite a few things, but he didn't and nobody can make him. Love wasn't enough, our children weren't enough, and I wasn't enough of a reason for him to accept his mistakes and make changes. No therapist, or book, or pill can make a person really look at themselves and make them want to be a better person. You have to want that for yourself. The simple answer to why our marriage ended was that I wanted to be a better person and I knew I deserved better.
The problem was I learned that at the end of the marriage and not the beginning. If I had thought I was this wonderful person that deserved a loving, equal relationship with a partner that valued me as much as I valued myself, I would have had a successful marriage. I started my marriage as an empty, sad, broken, needy person that would be happy to give anything just to have someone want to marry me. I gave and I gave and I gave myself body and soul to a mirror image in an attempt to fill up his needs and we were happy at times. As long as I was giving him what he needed and expected, I was fulfilled. I was happy, he was happy, and he loved THAT me. He loved that perfect housewife that listened to all his stories like the first time I heard them, cooked like his Mom, entertained his family while ignoring my own. He loved that I loved him. Then we had children. They had needs, a lot of them. I read books again, searching for all the ways I could be the perfect parent. I exhausted myself mentally and physically to maintain that perfect wife he expected and a perfect mom. I lost weight, potty trained, and mastered the art of distraction. I did pretty good and I took pride in myself. In fact I got rather confident in who I was and didn't look into the mirror anymore. I didn't need as much approval from others and frankly, didn't care what anybody thought. I knew myself better, I was stronger, and I made things happen. I had two little lives that I was responsible for and I started resenting him for making me his mother. I didn't love him anymore. He resented me for changing into this whole other person. He didn't want me to be strong. He didn't want the best for me, because that meant he would actually have to do more to earn my respect. We blamed each other for everything and made a mess of our lives, but eventually I stopped blaming him and just accepted him. I didn't want to be married to him and he desperately still wanted to be married, just not to who I had become. I still loved him. I had become confident. I didn't need a mirror to see how wonderful I was anymore. I loved myself more.
Sometimes it is very difficult for me to deal with my ex-husband, because I am dealing with my old self. I am dealing with his expectation of who I was, who I became and all of the mistrust he has of me. I also see all my old insecurities right in the eyes, looking and searching for something to reflect back the feelings. It's hard to remain calm, focused and move forward with someone still holding on to the past. It's hard to respect someone who has so little themselves. It's hard to love someone you have no respect for. I can only change my behavior. I can only be a compass now, not a mirror. A compass will only tell you which direction your are heading, not show you where you need to go. Only he can decide which path to take, because only he knows what he wants. I have my own path to tread.
At times there is an immense divide before me. I can't see the bottom and there are many obstacles in my way. Razor sharp rocks jut out waiting to rip my clothes. The wind howls trying to push me over the edge. I know I can't reach my destination alone. I call for help and only hear the echo's of my own cries. I doubt my ability to make it to the other side. That is my delusion. My truth is I am the divide. I am the other side. I am all my paths, all my obstacles, and all my needs. I only hear my own voice and that is enough. My voice says, "look again." I look inside.. There is no cavern, no obstacles, nothing I can't do. Sometimes it's as simple as looking in a different direction, but you have to look. You have to look inside to truly know yourself, trust yourself, love yourself before you can learn about someone else, trust someone else, or love someone else. Until you look inside you will keep searching for yourself in everyone else and never find what you are looking for. You will fall down on sharp rocks and feel the pain of rejection like a giant boulder crushing your soul. No fire will warm your body and no food will satisfy your hunger. Nothing you do will fill the loneliness in your heart. Your soul will only be a mirror to reflect what other's see never letting anyone inside to the unique beauty unlike any other that never ages. They will only see the qualities they want in themselves, but never appreciate who you really are. When you don't know who you are, how can you show others? Hiding behind a reflection your soul will die. Stop trying to walk a path when you don't even know why you are walking in the first place. Look again, and if you don't like what you see get some glasses. Get some help. Change what you are doing and then look again. Accept what you see. Love all of it. Fix what you can, but love even the broken pieces. Some paths leave more scars than others. There is no divide between who you are and who you want to be, there is only you.
The problem was I learned that at the end of the marriage and not the beginning. If I had thought I was this wonderful person that deserved a loving, equal relationship with a partner that valued me as much as I valued myself, I would have had a successful marriage. I started my marriage as an empty, sad, broken, needy person that would be happy to give anything just to have someone want to marry me. I gave and I gave and I gave myself body and soul to a mirror image in an attempt to fill up his needs and we were happy at times. As long as I was giving him what he needed and expected, I was fulfilled. I was happy, he was happy, and he loved THAT me. He loved that perfect housewife that listened to all his stories like the first time I heard them, cooked like his Mom, entertained his family while ignoring my own. He loved that I loved him. Then we had children. They had needs, a lot of them. I read books again, searching for all the ways I could be the perfect parent. I exhausted myself mentally and physically to maintain that perfect wife he expected and a perfect mom. I lost weight, potty trained, and mastered the art of distraction. I did pretty good and I took pride in myself. In fact I got rather confident in who I was and didn't look into the mirror anymore. I didn't need as much approval from others and frankly, didn't care what anybody thought. I knew myself better, I was stronger, and I made things happen. I had two little lives that I was responsible for and I started resenting him for making me his mother. I didn't love him anymore. He resented me for changing into this whole other person. He didn't want me to be strong. He didn't want the best for me, because that meant he would actually have to do more to earn my respect. We blamed each other for everything and made a mess of our lives, but eventually I stopped blaming him and just accepted him. I didn't want to be married to him and he desperately still wanted to be married, just not to who I had become. I still loved him. I had become confident. I didn't need a mirror to see how wonderful I was anymore. I loved myself more.
Sometimes it is very difficult for me to deal with my ex-husband, because I am dealing with my old self. I am dealing with his expectation of who I was, who I became and all of the mistrust he has of me. I also see all my old insecurities right in the eyes, looking and searching for something to reflect back the feelings. It's hard to remain calm, focused and move forward with someone still holding on to the past. It's hard to respect someone who has so little themselves. It's hard to love someone you have no respect for. I can only change my behavior. I can only be a compass now, not a mirror. A compass will only tell you which direction your are heading, not show you where you need to go. Only he can decide which path to take, because only he knows what he wants. I have my own path to tread.
At times there is an immense divide before me. I can't see the bottom and there are many obstacles in my way. Razor sharp rocks jut out waiting to rip my clothes. The wind howls trying to push me over the edge. I know I can't reach my destination alone. I call for help and only hear the echo's of my own cries. I doubt my ability to make it to the other side. That is my delusion. My truth is I am the divide. I am the other side. I am all my paths, all my obstacles, and all my needs. I only hear my own voice and that is enough. My voice says, "look again." I look inside.. There is no cavern, no obstacles, nothing I can't do. Sometimes it's as simple as looking in a different direction, but you have to look. You have to look inside to truly know yourself, trust yourself, love yourself before you can learn about someone else, trust someone else, or love someone else. Until you look inside you will keep searching for yourself in everyone else and never find what you are looking for. You will fall down on sharp rocks and feel the pain of rejection like a giant boulder crushing your soul. No fire will warm your body and no food will satisfy your hunger. Nothing you do will fill the loneliness in your heart. Your soul will only be a mirror to reflect what other's see never letting anyone inside to the unique beauty unlike any other that never ages. They will only see the qualities they want in themselves, but never appreciate who you really are. When you don't know who you are, how can you show others? Hiding behind a reflection your soul will die. Stop trying to walk a path when you don't even know why you are walking in the first place. Look again, and if you don't like what you see get some glasses. Get some help. Change what you are doing and then look again. Accept what you see. Love all of it. Fix what you can, but love even the broken pieces. Some paths leave more scars than others. There is no divide between who you are and who you want to be, there is only you.
Friday, April 5, 2013
Magic Mirror
So for my 41st birthday my younger sister got me a lighted magnifying mirror, that I asked for by the way, and I have been using it daily. It really is great, but three things have occurred to me. One, I have more hair on my chin than a German wrestler. Two, my face is dry and I have way more wrinkles than last year. Three, my sister is very evil in a sneaky way. Not that any of these things really bother me as much as the fact that I need the damn magnifying mirror because I'm getting progressively more blind, but it does remind me daily that youth is gone. My youth, my kid's youth, everyone is getting older all around me. Like a Dutch painting, all around me are signs of natural decay and reminders of mortality. I realize in my mind that these ever present signals are not trying to create panic, even though they do, but that they are there even if I don't dwell in the valley of death. I think it is so ironic that the most depressing thing is also the most encouraging. My children are becoming little people.
My oldest son, Jack, is thirteen and nearing six feet tall. It is truly amazing to me that he is evolving into a man right before my very eyes. He was such a tiny beautiful baby boy. He has so many interests and is becoming more and more independent all the time. His hugs are like giant bear hugs now and he towers over his Mommy. My youngest son, Elliott, is ten. I noticed in his school pictures he is looking so much more like his father every day. His face is changing from that little kid to that awkward teenager. Both boys are so funny and full of life. They are creative and sensitive. They are totally different, yet go together like peanut butter and jelly. I am so proud to leave this world a legacy like them. I can't wait to see what they will accomplish and dream of when they are adults, but I am also so sad they aren't my babies anymore. The other evening we were all exhausted and I popped in a movie. The boys curled up on both sides of me and fell asleep. Jack had his head in my lap and I stroked his massive curly head of hair and Elliott held my arm snuggled up beside me on the other side. I kept thinking all night how wonderful this was to have both the boys snoring just like they did when they were little. Sometimes I just want to go back and do things better, but that would change who they are now and they are great. Every hug and every smile tells me that I have done pretty good.
Teenage years are difficult and I think many changes are in store for us. Schedules become more challenging, dealing with friends and girls, and teaching them about making good choices that will affect the rest of our lives are duties that sometimes make me feel like I'm scaling Mt. Everest, especially when their father and I don't quite agree on our own life choices. I read a quote yesterday that said, "Become who you want your kids to be." Deep down all parents want is for their kids to be happy and healthy. Simple, but yet so complicated. Why is it so complicated? I had a nail client yesterday that could not decide on a color for her polish. I asked her about her weekend and if she had any big plans and she didn't. She looked and looked at the colors and I asked her what her favorite color was. Still, she couldn't decide. Finally, she threw up her hands and just asked me to pick a color. "There are just too many choices!" My client had too many colors that she liked to make the best choice for her. This is why life gets more complicated, too many choices. This is why I could still be going to college, because I liked learning about everything and not necessarily doing anything. This is why teen years are so difficult. For the first time children are presented with more independence and more choices that actually make a difference and as a parent, I have to let them make the decisions and experience the consequences. I have to let go, a little. I also have to use my freedom to keep becoming who I want them to be. I'm not just mom. I'm a writer, an employee, a nail technician, a friend, and a person. I'm old. I'm a model. I'm good.
I guess I don't have to wait to see how the years change them. I can just look into my super magnifying lighted mirror and see how wonderful they will become. My sister is one sneaky evil bitch.
My oldest son, Jack, is thirteen and nearing six feet tall. It is truly amazing to me that he is evolving into a man right before my very eyes. He was such a tiny beautiful baby boy. He has so many interests and is becoming more and more independent all the time. His hugs are like giant bear hugs now and he towers over his Mommy. My youngest son, Elliott, is ten. I noticed in his school pictures he is looking so much more like his father every day. His face is changing from that little kid to that awkward teenager. Both boys are so funny and full of life. They are creative and sensitive. They are totally different, yet go together like peanut butter and jelly. I am so proud to leave this world a legacy like them. I can't wait to see what they will accomplish and dream of when they are adults, but I am also so sad they aren't my babies anymore. The other evening we were all exhausted and I popped in a movie. The boys curled up on both sides of me and fell asleep. Jack had his head in my lap and I stroked his massive curly head of hair and Elliott held my arm snuggled up beside me on the other side. I kept thinking all night how wonderful this was to have both the boys snoring just like they did when they were little. Sometimes I just want to go back and do things better, but that would change who they are now and they are great. Every hug and every smile tells me that I have done pretty good.
Teenage years are difficult and I think many changes are in store for us. Schedules become more challenging, dealing with friends and girls, and teaching them about making good choices that will affect the rest of our lives are duties that sometimes make me feel like I'm scaling Mt. Everest, especially when their father and I don't quite agree on our own life choices. I read a quote yesterday that said, "Become who you want your kids to be." Deep down all parents want is for their kids to be happy and healthy. Simple, but yet so complicated. Why is it so complicated? I had a nail client yesterday that could not decide on a color for her polish. I asked her about her weekend and if she had any big plans and she didn't. She looked and looked at the colors and I asked her what her favorite color was. Still, she couldn't decide. Finally, she threw up her hands and just asked me to pick a color. "There are just too many choices!" My client had too many colors that she liked to make the best choice for her. This is why life gets more complicated, too many choices. This is why I could still be going to college, because I liked learning about everything and not necessarily doing anything. This is why teen years are so difficult. For the first time children are presented with more independence and more choices that actually make a difference and as a parent, I have to let them make the decisions and experience the consequences. I have to let go, a little. I also have to use my freedom to keep becoming who I want them to be. I'm not just mom. I'm a writer, an employee, a nail technician, a friend, and a person. I'm old. I'm a model. I'm good.
I guess I don't have to wait to see how the years change them. I can just look into my super magnifying lighted mirror and see how wonderful they will become. My sister is one sneaky evil bitch.
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