Tag Archives: divorce

What Now?

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I taught all my yoga classes
(seven in three days)
and I am exhausted.
I had dinner in Westminster
with my cousin and her family,
gave my father a card and a hug.
Back home the loneliness sets in.
My kids are with their dad and his girlfriend,
and I keep seeing
families playing together,
wondering how my life got to this,
where I’m working myself to exhaustion
just to make ends meet,
homeless in less than a month,
angry at the injustice,
lonely without my kids.
I want this to change.
I am willing to change.
But I need help to see beyond my pain.
What now?

Too Many Rules

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A friend came and visited.
We sipped our mugs of tea
and filled each other in
on the comings and
goings of our lives.
He’s three months into
a fulfilling relationship
with a vibrantly beautiful
and talented woman.
I’m happy for him.
I shared about my sadness,
loneliness and isolation.
I told him how I wanted to be
financially autonmous
before dipping my toes
back into the waters
of love and relationships.
It’s been two years since
I’ve been with a man,
and my body feels the urge
to be held, to connect…
but I don’t trust myself
to attract a healthy man
into my life,
and I’m still reeling
from the pain of my divorce.
So I’m waiting.
He told me I have too many rules,
that if I stop myself from desiring
I stop myself from moving forward.
Now my head is spinning.
Is it true?
Do I have too many rules?

Another Poem (Gratitude)

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Before he dropped the bomb
I had a regular, consistent gratitude practce.
I recorded five things every night
for which I was grateful.
I had been doing this for years,
faithfully,
and had already filled multiple books
with my nightly gratitudes.
After he dropped the bomb,
I expanded my practice.
When my mind was telling me my life was over
and that I’d never be happy again,
I recorded twenty things every night
for which I was grateful.
I began to count the smallest things
as important…
the way the sun rose,
the way my child’s voice sounds,
the taste of soup,
the temperature of the wind.
I realized that those “little” things
are enormous in their beauty
and their presence.
I realized I could be more grateful.
I started to realize that happiness
is a choice I make every day.
I’m into my healing process.
I can thank him for dropping the bomb
and blowing my old life to bits
so that I could create a new life.
I’m still working on forgiveness,
but that is another poem.


The Beauty of My Aloneness

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Sometimes I wonder
how you could go from
I love you
to It’s over.
But that’s exactly what happened,
from one month to the next…
And yes,
nearly two years later,
I’m still wondering.
I’ve read another book,
The Way of the Superior Man,* by David Deida.
(You told me I read too many books,
but then I think you watch way too much TV.)
I flagged each sentence
that shed light on what went wrong
in our marriage.
I’ll go back and reread what I’ve flagged,
memorize the passages,
so that never again
will I share my heart
with a weak man,
a man who blames his woman
for his shortcomings,
a man who defends his mediocrity
by rescinding his responsibility.
I’ll read every book I can get my hands on
about cultivating a healthy relationship with myself
and healthy relationships with others.
I’m becoming quite an educated woman.
The beauty of my aloneness
is that I get to dream of being
with someone who deserves me,
and I get to cultivate the deep sense of worthiness
that will draw him to me.
I’m still healing from the wounds you inflicted
when you left our marriage in such a cowardly way.
Eventually, though,
when I’m with a beautiful, strong man
who loves and appreciates my deeply feminine core,
I’ll thank you for giving up,
because I know I was worth so much more.

*I cannot recommend this book highly enough. It resonated so deeply and clarified so much. I’ve never felt so vindicated, seen, heard and understood. Ladies, every one of you, please read this book. Gentlemen, every one of you, please read this book.

A Mind At Home With Itself

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I found out our divorce had been finalized
because a friend sent me a screenshot of your photo:
Veuve Clicquot on your dining room table
and your caption
Divorce never tasted so good.
And I thought to myself,
Ah, but it has.
My divorce tastes better.
It tastes like FREEDOM.

The fanciest champagne in the world
cannot compare with the
sweet, clear taste of freedom.
And the richest man in the world
cannot buy this freedom;
it must be felt
deep inside a mind
at home with itself
in this one moment.

Falling

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Falling into an abyss,
powerless to slow the fall,
grasping for something
to give me a sense of
here, now,
but there’s nothing,
nothing to hold onto.
I look inside,
but the darkness there
is darker than the darkest night.
Everywhere I look
the darkness clouds
this experience of life.
Clearly it’s time for a change…
I can hear you tell me that this is all my fault.
I can hear you blaming me for everything that’s wrong.
And still I miss our togetherness,
the intimate moments we shared,
just for us.
When will this sick mind heal,
this mind that longs for the very thing
that wounded it?
As I continue to fall,
I keep wondering
Will someone eventually catch me?
Will I grow wings and fly?
Will I smash into a million pieces at the bottom?

Confessions

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I drank some wine tonight…
specifically to alter my mood.
I was feeling anxious
and exhausted from enduring
the difficult feelings.
I wanted them to change.
I want to escape these feelings.
I wonder why I had children.
Sometimes I wish I didn’t.
I wish I could run away.
My children are the only reason
I’m still here in this part of the world.
I’ve thought about leaving this planet
many times this past year.
I’ve had more thoughts like these
since the holiday season has arrived.
The anger is back and so is the depression.
I wonder how long I can make it
feeling like this.
I don’t want to have to take pills.
I want to lick this on my own.
But it is licking me.
I’m angry at life.
Then I feel guilty for feeling angry.
Then I’m ashamed that I haven’t
fixed my life by now.
I keep working to improve myself,
but the deeper I dig
the more faults I discover.
Why did I start digging in the first place?
I could go on forever,
but you probably wouldn’t read this,
and your reading this is one of the only reasons
I’m writing this.
I thought this was for me,
but really it’s because I long to be seen
and heard and understood.
Thanks for listening.