Have you ever made hot chocolate from a powder package? You know where youre mixing the chocolate powder in and you’ve swirled it around a few dozen times and you think it’s all thoroughly mixed when all of a sudden, a pocket of unmixed powder bubbles up?
That’s what life is like after heartbreak. You think things are all fine and dandy, when all of a sudden, something comes up and you’re unexpectedly sad.
It’s not the same sadness as before. And it doesn’t last long either. It’s not heartbreak. It’s not missing someone or wishing things would go back. It’s just, idk, a jolt to the system of how far things have changed.
I never knew what the saying meant when they say “healing isn’t linear”. I never understood what that meant until I was going through a divorce. Healing isn’t a straight shot up.
It’s a zig zagged line of highs and lows. It’s this amazing journey of growth and sadness. Healing and hurt.
Today makes 1 year, 1 month and 1 day I’ve been divorced. And I’m sorry if you’re reading this and thinking, is she going to talk about divorce again? And the answer is, yeah, kinda. It’s a hard thing to go through. It’s a hard thing to understand. And it’s hard to express the feelings that come along, even after over 365 days have passed.
When you go through something hard, not only divorce, but other life changing situations, everyone assumes there are two paths to healing: Get better or get worse.
And I’m here to tell you that it’s not so cut and dry.
Please don’t misunderstand me. My life is incredible now. The miraculous power of moving my life forward has changed me so much and I’m not sure I would of been able to accomplish all that I have if I hadn’t gone through it. I’m just saying that it’s not one or the other. Sometimes it’s both.
Everything, and I do mean everything, in my life is richer now. My faith in Jesus Christ. My relationships with my friends. With my family. My empathy towards others. My understanding of how to process emotions. My relationship with food. My love for my children. My feelings towards the opposite sex, platonic and romantic. And mostly, my feelings for myself. I was not kind to myself for a very long time. And it is still a very, very, very hard habit to break. You know they say you could bite off your finger if you wanted to but your brain physically stops you from doing it? Whether that’s true or not I can’t tell you. But that’s what healing yourself feels like. It feels like you try so hard to bite the habit but that habit or shitty self destructive thoughts stop you. It feels impossible…until it isn’t. Once you feel the first whoosh of relief, or satisfaction or heart skip moment, you know you’ve started something new.
Like rolling down the window after you’ve been sitting in a hot car. That sudden sense of relief feel is like magic.
It doesn’t feel like everything is fixed. It doesn’t solve the problem of the hot car or the broken life. But it gives you a glimpse that just outside, the world is waiting for you.
I remember thinking “Can’t a girl just catch a break?”.
But as more time has gone on, and the stretch of road between my old life and my new life grows farther apart, I think I have a better grip of how to process the episodes that come along. My life and my kids lives, and the way we live now isn’t less because something doesn’t work out, or my son gets suspended, or I forgot to wash their school uniforms or there’s ant trials throughout the house, evidence of where my daughter has spent a moment of her day. Could we be a tad more responsible with how we live? Maybe. But the success of my life isn’t measured by the lack crumb trails in my house. My life is measured by how much love they receive from me. How kind they are to strangers. Their empathy towards their friends, or our dogs, and even the snail that accidentally gets crushed beneath our feet.
When my daughter wants a bed time story, or wants to tell me about some YouTube video she watched or the drama that happened in her 4th grade class, I try to stop what I’m doing and participate. When my son wants to show me the stuff he added to his Christmas wish list, or play a new song on his guitar, or show me pictures of how he wants to cut his hair in the future, I stop and I listen.
Them knowing and loving themselves and loving others is how I will measure the success of my life.
Having my son tell me he wants to stay after to school to join the Bible club, and meets a school friend on Wednesday night bible study. That’s how I measure success.
And the growth within myself. Participating in the growth and enrichment of my own life. Saying yes when I used to say no. Or moving on when I feel like I am not being valued. Being an active participant in my own life has helped me grow and in turn helped me to heal. Being okay and not falling down the rabbit hole when hard times come, or painful memories rise, or stories are passed down the grape vine. None of it has to do with me now. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. Doesn’t mean it isn’t important. All it means is that I learn to move on with the loss and make things better in the future.
I’m happy with my life. Truly, sincerely and unapologetically happy. It’s been a few days since I started this post. I’ve had a few days to let the thoughts mellow in my mind and the feeling of melancholy has passed. I’m currently laying on my couch, staring past my blue painted toenails out my back door. And it’s a beautiful day outside. Currently 68° and sunny. I have no bitter thoughts in my mind, no heartache to knaw at my insides and a bit of optimism nipping around. It’s quiet, aside from the occasional squeak of the kids bed as they lay around this Saturday morning. But all in all, I’m happy. Fit as a fiddle. And I prayed for this feeling for a very long time.
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