and I feel way less emotional
than I thought I would.
Even with you posting
the picture of your champagne,
saying “Divorce never tasted so good,”
and toasting your adventures
with your “new love…”
I’m not getting the same jolt
I got at this time last year,
when I realized you were with another.
There’s no more betrayal.
There’s no more grief.
There’s no more sense of loss.
I don’t need you anymore.
I have me now.
I have worked hard to heal
and to see what got me here;
I’m stronger now,
I can take care of myself…
and I love myself so much
that I actually enjoy being alone!
So go enjoy your Parisian vacation;
enjoy spending time with her.
I’m living deeper now,
inside a timeless place,
where the comings and goings
of a man such as you
can no longer affect me.
if you can help me shift
from indifference to compassion,
that would really be something!
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.
Sorting through years of being together,
so many memories surfacing,
the sentimentality of it all.
When you left,
you took what you wanted
and left the rest,
an apt metaphor for our life together.
Now I’m left to sort through
the aftermath of our togetherness…alone.
Our children’s artwork, books, clothing, and toys,
bits of this and that,
odds and ends accumulated over the years…
You told me I didn’t want to move
because I have so much sh*t
that I just don’t want to deal
with sorting it and packing it up…
You were only partially correct.
For starters…a lot of this is OUR sh*t, sir,
which is what happens when two people
create two children and live together
for eight years.
A part of me doesn’t want to deal with it,
you are right—
but that’s just one part.
That’s the part you knew and criticized,
the one that was never good enough for you.
But I have other parts.
There’s one part who has been
only too glad to purge myself of you,
my body, my mind, my heart, my spirit,
my home…free from you.
There’s another part that is so strong
and so resilient, it has been working diligently
to release, release, release the old
in order to welcome the new.
Another part is really glad for the future
without you in it as my tormentor,
and who looks forward
to (one day when I’m ready)
stepping into the embrace
of a real man,
a man who sees me and loves me
for my power and strength,
my creativity and sensuality,
my generosity and compassion,
my ability to clearly articulate my thoughts and feelings,
my humor and my excitement about life.*
Yet another part is deeply calm and peaceful,
and maybe a little amused at this whole process.
Turns out, sir,
you didn’t know me.
You didn’t know me very much at all.
*Yes, if you had seen and appreciated any of these qualities, our story would have been very different. Your loss, buster. But namaste all the same. 🙏🏻🌈✨
It’s going to be okay.
I feel that now.
Last year I worked on cultivating trust,
and this year, I chose freedom.
As I trust, I relax into being,
and this moment opens up
and shows me what I need to know….
Or more precisely,
I open up
and I can finally see
what this moment
was trying to show me all along.
Yes. I open up,
and then I can receive
the gifts that were always there,
awaiting my opening.
I open up
and the whole universe is delighted
to shower me with the love and the abundance
that now gets to be expressed through me,
through my willingness to trust and to be free.
Today is the day
you awaken from the dream
the dream of lack and limitation,
the dream of unworthiness,
the dream of fear, self-doubt,
the dream of weakness.
Today is the day
you wake up from the dream
that has kept you in prison.
Today is the day
you stand in the light
how free you are
this one precious life.
Being held hostage for so long
makes freedom scary when it comes,
and I curse my tormentor
for finding another captive to ensnare.
I curse her, his new prey,
for allowing herself to be captivated by his charms.
I suppose I should instead feel sorry for her,
walking right into his trap as she has.
I suppose I should only feel compassion
as I look at their one year “anniversary” photo,
glasses of champagne on the table,
looking so pleased with themselves.
It’s only a matter of time
before he does to her
what he did to me.
And I’m free.
Why does freedom feel so scary?
And then, my mood shifted…
and then, I felt lighter,
There was no reason for this;
it just happened.
I give thanks for the shift,
and for everything that came
giving me a reason
to long for change
and the courage
to allow change to happen.