365 Days

It’s been a year. A year since my marriage ended. There were a few months of back-and-forth, of course. It’s not easy to separate lives that have been intertwined for 17 years. But in the end, it was a mutual decision. My divorce will be final on 7/26. I’m not sad, but it does seem a little sad. It’s almost like I’m this third party looking in at the situation like, ‘Oh – that’s sad that they don’t speak anymore and the kid doesn’t really want anything to do with his dad and he just disappeared from their lives.’ But I feel little to no emotion when I think about it. Maybe I’m in denial. Maybe, on the way home from the court house next week I’ll have some catastrophic breakdown and have to pull my car over because I can’t see through the tears. Maybe.

7/26/18

Overall though, the 365 days from then until now have been some of the best of my life. My job is the best it’s ever been. There are some days where I genuinely feel guilty about taking their money…please note I said some days. My step-daughter moved in with me and has been a godsend, helping me with bills and being a support system for my son (her brother) while we went through this. I’m working on a new book that is in fact the best thing I’ve ever written because it’s essentially about a woman who leaves her husband and finds herself. Clearly, I have a lot of material for this one. I am in a relationship that continues to grow and strengthen as we learn more about each other every day. Truthfully, I’m impatient and pushed it along faster than I should have. We were already living together when most people would have just been getting to the ‘let’s meet each other’s friends’ stage. The first three months don’t even count in my book. They were a mess. A MESS. But we managed to get it together around the first of the year, and now nothing could get between us. It’s a good feeling to know someone has your back. A good feeling to know you’re included in every aspect of their life. I’d forgotten. Along with him, came a brand-new set of friends/family that I am truly blessed to have met. Just good people. Just good, real people who made me feel like I belonged with them. I love them as much as I love him.

Life has a funny way of putting your stubborn ass right where it needs to be. You may think things are so wrong, things aren’t the way they’re supposed to be…but they don’t call them growing pains for nothing. Trust in your journey and don’t fuck with people who aren’t interested in walking along with you. If people want to leave your life, let them. Don’t chase. Don’t beg. Just let them go. You’re just clearing space for a blue-eyed boy who will love you with everything he has. Or..that could just be me. Maybe yours will have green eyes. 😉

Sister Act’s Words of Wisdom

There is a scene in Sister Act 2 that plays over and over in my mind when I start to doubt myself as a writer (so basically, like, all the time) where Whoopi is talking to Lauren Hill who is having a hard time admitting she is a singer and in this conversation she says:

“…Don’t ask me about being a writer. lf when you wake up in the morning you can think of nothing but writing…then you’re a writer.

I’m gonna say the same thing to you. If you wake up in the mornin’ and you can’t think of anything but singin’ first…then you’re supposed to be a singer, girl.”

While I do love to sing, what I think about when I wake up is finding time that day to sit down and write. I begin to scheme about eating lunch at my desk and getting Cam to bed early. I think about my characters and listen as they have funny conversations that play out in my head. I obsess over everything I write as I didn’t go to college and just recently learned that cannot is one word and can’t spell for poop. So, according to Whoopi (or the writers of Sister Act 2) I’m meant to be a writer. Now, to be clear, no one said anything about getting paid to be a writer, they just said that in my heart, to give my soul a voice and live my life to the fullest, I need to write. So…I write. And then I delete. And then I write again. And then I cry because it sucks.

But, I write because that is who I am, what I want to be and the legacy I want to leave.