When he was moving out, I told him he could take whatever he needed to start his life anew. By law, he was owed half but I was just so exhausted by the end that after he assured me that he had taken everything out of the bedroom that he wanted, I went into the bedroom, turned on some noise to drown out his, shut the door and went to sleep. I came out only long enough to go to the bathroom, shower, eat, go to work, and for 3 days I did this. I was prepared for absolutely everything to be gone by the time he was done. Nope. All he took was his comic books and clothing and hardly anything else. Since that week, I have been completely overwhelmed by all that he left behind and how he told others that I had let him have nothing. I have spent the last 8 months trying to get him to get his belongings to no response. So, the purge has begun. It’s been emotionally draining to go through his things, clothing, personal items, unused medication, hidden money, credit card statements for accounts that he secretly opened, things inappropriate to hide in a covenant marriage… memories both good and bad. There is a bit of guilt that I am just giving things away or throwing things away or selling things but the divorce decree is final in saying that everything that is in my possession is now mine. and since he won't respond or come back to take anything, I guess he has given me permission to do whatever.
In a jerk move, I have been missing every lid or power cord to every pot, pan, appliance or power tool. I’ve replaced most of it but this last Thursday I found the box he had put all those in with a note that he wrote: “I hate you”.
That stung.
But what stings more is that people feel sorry for him, are angry with me, and make judgments about things they don’t know. They don’t know about how and why we ended things. Social media is a great place to paint a pretty picture and to be less than authentic about the real happenings in your life.
I was at a church potluck a couple of weeks ago. A woman who I don’t typically have personal conversations with, plopped down next to me and rather than just keeping the conversation church-related or even just light, just out and asked it, “So, how much alimony do you have to pay?”. What the heck?! The table fell silent and all eyes were on me. Another lady at the same table, also divorced, opened her mouth so wide that the food in her mouth fell right out. I turned to the offender’s husband who apparently did not hear or was a good actor and didn’t address it. I said to her “that’s not ok to ask anyone” then blurted out to the table “how about those Chiefs”. I’m not a football fan nor is it football season but I am grateful the conversation got taken back to something other than my divorce. How judgmental is that? Why would “I” be the one to pay alimony? I mean, is it because he is a disabled person? He literally has more resources and access to assistance than I do including he now can get food stamps and low-income housing. I can’t and I drained my finances to get through this divorce, get a car, and am living paycheck to paycheck. Why is this anyone’s business? How is this appropriate to ask at a church function? How is this appropriate at all? I was appalled. But, I won’t leave the Church over it. The Church is true, and I can feel the presence of God here, even when some of the people here don’t have any tact and are judgemental. They need to be here just as much as me. I am getting stronger every day, but I feel for the person who isn’t and wouldn’t be able to withstand the fiery darts from within our own congregations. If you have the inkling to jump to conclusions, I encourage you to do as Christ said pertaining to the woman brought to him in the act of sin… don’t cast a stone at someone unless you are sinless.
I’ve been working hard with my therapist. So much progress in the area of boundary setting and becoming the hero in my story without having to make someone a villain. Which, by the way, perhaps I still need to work on that considering the first 2 paragraphs of this post! I did have a moment of defeat and she asked me to look at it differently. Without quoting her exact words, she told me to consider this life and all of these challenges as if this was a mountain to climb. In this moment, I am struggling in my climb and even feel like I am slipping a bit. But she told me to consider looking down, and then out, not just up. By looking down and out, I can see how far I have come. The cuts and bruises and calluses I have developed in this climb are evidence of the hard work I did. Focusing solely on the fact that I haven’t reached the peak yet and not giving myself credit for how far I have come is not very fair to me. When my first marriage ended, I was in a state of sheer depression, couldn’t hold a job, depended on others to even meet my basic needs. And today, though divorced for a second time, I have developed GRIT! I have a job, I have goals and dreams. I am in college and pursuing a career change and have desires to build a business. I am doing the work! I might be holding onto the side of that mountain, but my mountain climbing cleats are dug in! I am resting my muscles, taking a breath, and preparing mentally and physically for more climbing to come. I maybe have slipped a bit, but I am not all the way at the bottom. And if I look really hard, it’s beautiful up here!
This week I finally get to use my vacation time to go on vacation! I chose something spiritually edifying and soul-renewing. As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I believe in temples. We have temples all over the world and more and more are being built. Temples are places much like what you read about in the Old Testament and New Testament. It is in these temples that we perform sacred ordinances and learn more about our relationship with God, Christ, and about their plan for us and the human family. I always feel strengthened, edified, and renewed after some time inside. We have a temple close to us and there are 100’s all over the world. A new temple has been built in Bentonville, Arkansas and before it is dedicated for sacred purposes, they invite the public, free of charge, to come and take a tour of the inside. It’s a great way to see what it’s all about and it helps eliminate some of the supposed “secrecy”. I am going to the Bentonville open house and I am so excited! My best friend in the whole wide universe used to live here in Lawrence. She moved to Arkansas and my heart was crushed. To nourish our friendship and for self-care, we Zoom once a week and have a chic trip every year. When we were watching the Church’s bi-annual meeting called General Conference, announcements were made for new temples and when the Bentonville temple was announced, we didn't even let the speaker finish speaking before we called each other excited because that is literally halfway between us and could be a day or weekend trip which means we get to see each other more often AND get spiritual nourishment! We are so very pumped! So we are meeting up for 3 days in Bentonville this week, staying at a hotel, chilling out at the pool, eating some good food, seeing this new temple, and just getting away from responsibilities for a moment. So my update for month 4 might have some cool tidbits about the trip!
Speaking of spiritual nourishment and self-care… going through a divorce is more than just about the lives being separated, but now about rebuilding after. I am so thankful for patient friends and a therapist who stand by and are ready to supply strength and uplifting when I feel completely depleted. Case in point. Today was Father’s Day. I have a whole lot of feelings about this day. Mother’s Day and Father’s Day tend to be hard when (a) your parents did the best they could with the tools they had but their tools really hurt you, and (b) when all you wanted your whole life was to be a parent and that blessing never came. I did NOT want to go to church today and wanted to sob in my pillow and just ignore, if I could, the day and what it meant. I also wanted to wallow in my own mess. But I knew Church was the place I would get spiritually fed. I also knew from past experience that not going to church can lead to continued not going, especially if I dwell on the things that have hurt. I had also signed up to take one of our sweet elderly women who cannot drive. Had I not gone, she would not have been able to go. So I went, and it was a pleasure to take her. Ultimately, I am glad I went. I sobbed through most of the service but many of the words shared from the pulpit today strengthened me and validated the feelings in my heart. In a moment of inspiration, I remembered some Priesthood blessings I have received in times past. The act of giving a blessing is where hands are laid on your head, either with or without anointing oil (you can read about this act in both the Old and the New Testament) and words individual to you and your individual needs are spoken through prayer. Often, the person giving the blessing shares that the words chosen were not his own but that he was just the mouthpiece for God or Christ since they can’t be here. In many of the blessings I have had in the past, the words “God wants you to know that He loves you and is aware of you. I needed to hear these words today, on Father’s Day, from my Heavenly Father. I desperately needed to know that I am loved, that He is aware of me, that He knows I am doing my best, and that the plans He had for me are not ruined because I couldn’t endure a loveless marriage. So I felt inspired to message a specific brother in our congregation, a man who knew of some but not all of my struggles, who was my bishop when I first moved here as a single woman, who got to know me as the woman who fell in love with [husband #2], worked with me as my bishop as #2 and I worked to do the things so that we could go do holy ordinances in the temple to bind our marriage for eternity. This bishop also knows the hardship of loss, hurt, anguish, and disappointment, and perhaps above all, knows the pain of Father’s Day because of his own experiences. I felt selfish asking him to take a moment away from his family to bless me but I felt inspired to ask him specifically to give me a priesthood blessing. And he agreed. When giving a blessing, the priesthood holder states your full, legal name as he starts the prayer. When this man asked me to remind him of my middle name, I sobbed. So many times over the last few months I would introduce myself with or write my former last name, and this would not be the time I would want the wrong name stated, but this man knew and remembered to say the correct last name for and on my behalf. There were no words shared before the blessing was given. He didn’t ask me if I could explain or if there were any things, in particular, I needed prayers for. I just sat, he laid his hands on my head, and with what I KNOW to be not his words but God’s, I got answers to prayers not spoken aloud to anyone and heard words I didn’t know I longed to hear. God was using this man as a vessel to give me the father’s embrace that I needed on this Father’s Day. I am truly blessed and grateful for a loving Heavenly Father who loves me despite my imperfections.
This month has been a month of many revelations about myself and so much healing. I’ve had to turn the other cheek. I have shed a lot of tears. I am tired and spread thin with work and school and still trying to find a schedule for cooking, cleaning, laundry, and sleep. I have slipped a bit on that mountain, and my knuckles are bruised and bleeding, but my climbing cleats are dug in, I am looking outward and down… and up… taking it all in… it is breathtaking here!
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