Today I want to say thank you to everyone who follows my blog. I honestly never imagined I would have so many followers. You’re all amazing and I appreciate your presence and your support. So, thank you. Seriously.
Right now I can see the first pastel yellow and golden rays of sunshine peering through the copse of trees behind my condo. I’m sipping on organic peppermint tea and thinking about how different things are for me now than they have been in a long time. When I left my ex, I was worried that my life would suddenly be devoid of direction. I couldn’t see then just how bad it was if leaving my partner meant I couldn’t see a purpose to my life. And remembering those days before and after I left (really, it was months before and after), I see a shattered, scared, broken hearted woman who genuinely didn’t know if happiness was something she would ever feel again.
Because that’s the startling, horrible truth about toxic relationships: there are moments of happiness, albeit brief and sparsely placed. I couldn’t say that I was ever happy for long periods of time, but I could point out moments where I felt happy, loved, content, and safe. Leaving that was the choice that would save my life, I knew that much. But I didn’t know how I was going to build my own happiness because I had never done it before. I didn’t even know where to begin, which was way I stayed in my marriage for far too long.
One thing I will say for myself: I’m a fast learner. I’ve been in other toxic relationships that, rather than cling to and try to make them work, I allowed them to take their course and find their endings. And I have been infinitely better for it. Never stay where you’re not appreciated, especially when the other person isn’t willing to do their part in the relationship. How many people did I date after my divorce who said a lot of great things but didn’t – and sometimes simply couldn’t – follow through? How many liked me enough to want to be exclusive, but not enough to want to commit?
And see, it isn’t the lack of commitment that’s the problem. It’s the lack of communication that makes it toxic. It’s the “love bombing” in the beginning to hook someone’s emotions, telling them you want a commitment, and then stringing them along for weeks (or months) without communicating what your desires are. Desires change. Sometimes we make a connection with someone, and then that connection fades. That’s normal. And not everyone knows where they are in a connection, too; sometimes we think we want a relationship, but that doesn’t mean we want one with everyone we connect with. And that’s also normal.
What isn’t normal is allowing someone to think you feel one way when you don’t.
But rather than sit around and wait for these people to know what they wanted (which was already traumatizing since my ex “fell out of love” with me more than once and took months at a time to figure out if he wanted to stay married to me or not), I decided to move on. My life isn’t sometime to be played with, and neither are my emotions. So, now, whenever I feel as though I’m being taken for granted, I move on. It’s not an easy thing to do, but it is a simple one.
When I left my ex, I never imagined that I would ever see myself as a strong person. I didn’t feel strong in my marriage. I felt weak. I felt helpless. I felt as though I didn’t deserve respect or affection. And I didn’t feel strong when I left him. I felt pathetic. Now, a year and a half later, I not only feel strong, I can see my strength. It’s extremely hard to stand in your truths, especially when so many people have reinforced the idea of your deeply conditional value. Unlearning shame, unlearning self-minimalization, unlearning self-abuse have been some of the hardest things I have ever had to do. Trusting my internal compass when I have been conditioned for years to see myself as untrustworthy, has taken so much work to do. And there are a lot of moments when I have failed, moments when I have allowed myself to be mistreated and taken advantage of because I was, as Brene Brown puts it, “hustling” for belonging.
But I can see a major difference in myself. I feel different. I think different. I analyze differently. A lot of this is due to the writing I’ve been doing, but most of it has been internal work. And today, on this January morning that smells like a prophecy of snow, with peppermint tea in my mug, with my cat whining over my shoulder because he wants into my lap, I’m choosing to take some time and reflect on how far I’ve come. I still have more growing to do (a fact that’s true for all of us), but I am finally becoming the woman I’ve always known I was capable of being.
And it feels really fucking good.
