I am not even sure how to begin to write this. But I know if I get the words out of me, healing will begin. Writing and words are some of the very best healers.
My soul is shattered, aching and gasping for breath. I need hope for my new life; so I write.
I share my story I never thought I would have to write. I share it for me as I begin to figure out how to heal. And I share it for you. I share it for my son, my family, my friends, for strangers and for our beautiful but broken world. I share it because I know that being vulnerable and transparent is who I am. It is who I am proud of being. Being vulnerable is who I want to continue to be.
I want to be clear: I do not share my story for blame or anger. There are an infinite amount of words inside me that are begging to be released. But these words are begging from a place of raw tenderness and love, trust and hope that the world is still a good and honest place. Trust that I will somehow continue to contribute love to this beautifully broken world.
And maybe one day my story will help someone else heal too. Deep down, I do believe I will heal. I believe I am guaranteed to heal because of my son. My innocent, beautiful baby boy that doesn’t even know his world is shaken. The sweet, loving soul that is sleeping in the next room innocent of the hurt his parents are going through. He sees his momma’s tears and he is confused. But he doesn’t know why. But then, then he sees his momma stand back up and fight. Fight hard, for him most importantly. But also fight for whatever is coming next. He sees his momma’s strength through pain.
For the rest of my forever, June 22 will never be just June 22. It will forever be the day my husband asked for a divorce.
How did I even just write that? How is it possible that this is even happening to me? You hear stories every single day and you think, “That won’t happen to me. We are stronger than that”. But then it does happen. It happened to me and my baby. It happened to my husband. And then everything changes.
So how do I begin to heal? Right now, I heal through hope. I heal through my family and friends. I heal through the kindness of strangers. I heal through love, even though love hurts quite a bit right now. I heal through God. But most importantly, I heal through the strength within me I did not know I had. The strength I will have for me, and for my son.
“Hope is the thing with feathers-
that perches in the soul –
and sings the tune without the words-
and NEVER stops at all”— Emily Dickinson
I have to believe that there is hope as I begin my healing. Hope that whatever happens is manageable for everyone. Hope that happiness is eventually found for our family, whatever that new form of family and happiness might look like.
And I have deep hope, hope that I can dig to my core and find the bottom of this pain-filled hole and begin to heal. I have to believe that light will find me again at the bottom of the hole. And I want to believe that the light at the bottom is what will eventually carry me back to love.