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.
I was thinking I was going to get more done today and suddenly I was paralyzed. With fear, with anxiety, with self-criticism. So, I did what any self-respecting individual would do under the circumstances… I read a book. The book is called Living Your Truth by Kamal Ravikant. Afterwards, I felt better. I took one step, then another. I went grocery shopping. I tidied up the house a little bit more, took care of some phone calls and correspondence. I breathed. I remembered to repeat I love myself. When the kids got home, I was calm, and managed to stay (mostly) calm through homework. Dinner was beautiful, and afterwards, my kids—of their own accord— had an art moment! It was…glorious to see them happily working away while I tidied up after dinner. They’re still making art and here I am writing this poem. I was thinking I was going to get more done today, but I realize now, today was enough.
Try repeating this mantra while you breathe deeply and slowly
Try standing in your strength, rooting down, stretching up, breathing, repeating
I love myself I love myself I love myself
What will happen in the space of inspiration, when love is what is felt on the inside?
What will happen in the release of exhalation, when love is what is expressed outwardly as truth?
What if you knew your truth would help others? Would you speak it?
I love myself I love myself I love myself.
What would it feel like if you really believed it? What would it sound like if you could really mean it?
What would your life be like if you allowed yourself to really dream it?
******************************** Inspired by Kamal Ravikant’s book “Love Yourself Like Your Life Depends On It.” I find the cover art pretty triggering, let me say…but don’t we sometimes need strong images to wake us up to the truth? Self-love saves lives. I found it well worth the read. I will read it again. I have been practicing the mantra for months, and began teaching it to my students this past month. It’s powerful to work with the mind in this way, to train it to reach for a better thought. The best thought…the one that could save your life, and the lives of those around you.
After being told for so long by the one I had pledged to love that there was something wrong with me, that I was good for nothing, lazy, selfish, irresponsible, and at the cause of all our collective misfortunes, it goes without saying that it feels quite refreshing to be alone. Without all of the noise, the criticism, the discouragement, the manipulation, the control and—let’s be plain—the abuse, I can finally begin to tease apart the threads of the veil that had been woven around my eyes, my mind, my body, my heart. I can finally begin to discern what is real and true for me, who I really am. As I learn to exist in this new reality and heal my bruises and tend to my wounds, I feel myself growing stronger, more sure of the good that surrounds me, the good within me. As I connect with and exist inside this good, I allow myself to dream about what is possible. I dream about deep, intimate connection first with myself, and then, one day, with another. I dream about a man who is aware of his presence, who sees his depth of awareness as his most valuable asset. I dream about myself standing in my power and grace with this man, who wants to honor me with his strength, as I honor him with my devotion. For now it is a dream. For now, a dream is enough.
It could be said by many that your past year was so much better than mine, what with all the lovemaking, wining and dining, the rock concerts, the dinners with friends, and yes even a “romantic” trip to Paris.* Yes, if you’re only concerned with external matters maybe your year was better… But if you look a little deeper, you would find I made out far better than you. This past year, I learned about my Self. I learned where my true power lies. (Hint: Not with you!) I learned about my responsibility, my resiliency, my strength. I went all the way down, found the bottom, and have chosen to come back up. I touched my deepest sorrow, reached out and held myself through paralyzing grief, searched for and found a reason to keep going. Long after your suitcases are unpacked, the bottles of wine are empty, the rockstars have left the stage, and the weight of real life (and maybe even the weight of your next wife?) has killed your libido, I’ll be here, standing strong in the beautiful world I’ve built… inside myself.
*As romantic as Paris can be, in rainy cold January. Good luck with that.
************* Friends, some of you may have noticed in the past couple of months that I have periodically addressed Him…the one who shall not be named…the one who married me, had two children with me and then left the marriage, saying it was all my fault. If you’re wondering at all about my writing to him, permit me to explain. Once I realized that he was trolling my posts I decided to address him directly here on this blog…and I discovered as I did so that writing to him as if he were reading my words is quite cathartic. There were many words left unspoken between us, and while I’m still processing the major transition in my life that he initiated, I figured that anything that provides catharsis is a good idea! At some point this will all be a distant memory and I will no longer feel a need to speak to him, but for now, when the desire strikes as it did tonight, I’ll give him a piece of my mind. Who knows? Perhaps he’ll read my posts and learn something? We can only hope…
It’s done, 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. ***********
Now, God, if you can help me shift from indifference to compassion, that would really be something! 🌈🙏🏻❤️✨
Now that I’ve been nurturing hope, repeating “I love myself, I love myself,” as much as possible, moving toward self-acceptance and self-compassion— I’ve been naturally drawn to taking better care of my living space. I’ve been decluttering the house room by room, taking trips to the local donation spots, and each time I release something, I can hear the house sighing in relief, breathing better. Ahh, space. If space is really what we need, why do we spend some much time accumulating things to fill it with? Friends, may we stop acquiring things just long enough to take a breath, smile, look into one another’s eyes, and remember where we are.