Mostly Okay

Meme of person crying: "Me in my room imagining fake scenarios and hurting my own feelings." 

I saw this meme awhile back, and last night I did exactly this. What started out as a simple trip down memory lane, left me feeling so sad by the end that I actually cried. Like out loud, made myself sob.

Looking back at images over the last few years, instead of a feeling wistful nostalgia, I was just pissed off that I've lived so much hurt. And then, as if that wasn't painful enough, I created all sorts of alternate universes in my mind of where life could go from here, with every one of them leaving me the short end of the stick.

I totally understand how people get to the point where they no longer choose to open up their hearts, since it's just a big old disappointment every time. A track record of people never delivering.

Maybe there's a little bit of the past I still need to reconcile. Little pieces of broken hearts left over from the years, in the sense that you can be over something, you can move on, and move along, but maybe you haven't fully processed, fully absorbed? The little pangs of hurt haven't become part of the whole, and they can bump and sting, like a game of Operation.

Maybe quarantine is getting to me. I've liked being alone so much lately, but perhaps now it's reached a point where being alone too much isn't a good thing. It gives me too much time to wander in my mind, and I should have known that I have a limit there. It can become too much. My imagination, big feelings, and love of time to just think is what makes me a great artist. Performer, and writer. But. This is also what makes being human so damn tricky for someone like me. The spiral becomes too deep, and you long to claw out, but you've explored so internally you can't enter into the outside world yet, leaving you in a big conundrum. If you know, you know. 

Alone. This was the problem last night, you see. It was thinking about being alone...forever. And if I'm being honest, I'm not sure I'm up for that, should that happen. I started to worry about the types of love I have in my life, and is that enough to sustain me? Family, friends, and the love of my sweet son - which I am so lucky and grateful for.

But what about the other type of love?
And then...what if my son never sees me loved? 
And then...am I okay with that?!

I just don't know.

It's now the morning after, and I am out for a run. I notice my thighs hurt from last night's run, but my heart doesn't hurt from last night's cry. And by 9 o'clock this morning...I am mostly okay. Will I be okay in years to come? Will my story be beautiful? Are there great surprises in store? Will it all "work out"? Only time will tell. But for now, it's just 9 am, and I am mostly okay.

What's the quote? Something about doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results is the definition of insanity? Well, consider me certifiably insane, because I will never close off. I will never stop trying.

I will not stop opening my heart, even though it's only ever ended...
And even though it's only ever ended...
I am mostly okay...

so...I keep running.


.
.
.
.
.
.

12 Reasons why Female Empaths Have a Hard Time Finding the Right Man

At this point I assume these articles will make me roll my eyes, but still I click. Glad I did. I related to this one so very much. Called, "12 Reasons why Female Empaths Have a Hard Time Finding the Right Man". Credited from the original source: HERE and copied + pasted below:

Empaths take their relationships seriously. They date with the intention of finding true love, preferring to form meaningful bonds rather than dating around or having casual sex. 

Sometimes, being a female empath can put you at a disadvantage here; in an era of internet dating and hookups, you will probably have to wait longer to find your perfect match.

Let’s take a closer look at the reasons why female empaths struggle to meet the right man:

1. They have an unusually inquisitive mind

Empaths don’t care for small talk. They’d rather talk about philosophical issues than reality TV, for example. 

Any man they date needs to be intelligent and open-minded. These guys can be hard to find.

2. They are prone to strong, sometimes unpredictable mood shifts

Because they are easily influenced by their environment and other people’s emotions, an empath’s moods are liable to change with little warning. 

This can be hard for men to accept. Female empaths need partners who understand that they are unusually sensitive.

3. They aren’t afraid to show lots of love and affection

Open displays of affection can feel overwhelming, especially for men who have been raised to hide their emotions. 

A female empath might have to look for a long time to find a guy who is happy to share lots of hugs and kisses.

4. They expect commitment early

Empaths make up their minds quickly when it comes to committing to an exclusive relationship. They don’t hang around waiting for a man to choose them. 

They are highly self-aware, and prefer not to put themselves in dating limbo.

5. They are good at spotting liars

Lots of men embellish the truth or lie by omission, telling them what they want to hear. Empathic women pick up on inconsistencies and insincerity within minutes, and immediately lose all trust and respect they had for the guy. 

6. They can be too quick to take on a “fixer” role

Some female empaths have a tendency to choose men who are in great need of psychological, financial, or spiritual help. 

Even though it isn’t their responsibility to fix his life, they choose to adopt the role of therapist, bank, or nurse. This can result in unhealthy, one-sided relationships.

7. It takes time for them to get over past hurts

Because they are so sensitive, empaths can struggle to move on when they’ve been wronged. Although they are quick to forgive, they seldom forget. 

Because they are slow to trust someone new, they require a very patient partner. This can be hard to find. 

8. They need a man who is always true to his word

To win an empath’s heart, a man needs to keep his promises. Female empaths can’t cope with betrayal or violations of trust. 

She might overlook a couple of minor transgressions, but she won’t be able to tolerate a man who keeps changing his mind or canceling plans.

9. They are very honest

Empaths don’t sugarcoat the truth. If their partners ask for their opinion, they won’t hold back. 

This can be tough for a man to deal with, especially if he has a particularly fragile ego.

10. They are easily offended by harsh words

Every insult and unkind word pierces an empath’s heart. She can’t tolerate hostile conflict, and won’t stay long with a man who doesn’t know how to communicate respectfully. 

She needs a partner who can talk about relationship problems without becoming aggressive or dismissive.

11. They pour a lot of time and energy into their family and friends

Empaths are dedicated to their romantic relationships. However, they also prioritize family and friends. 

A female empath needs a man who appreciates that they won’t always come first.

12. They need a lot of time alone

ife as an empath is hard work. Empaths are affected by other people’s moods in every situation. For the sake of their mental and spiritual health, they need to recharge alone on a regular basis. 

Therefore, they need to search for a man who is secure enough to love an independent woman.

.

.

.

.

Cosmic Contract

Isn't it curious, how we can long for elements of earth we didn't grow up with? We can be called by the sea, knowing we should be by water, before we even see it. There is a pull of the familiar, an inherent knowing, without any concrete proof, that we're not where we belong.

I was born in a place with harsh winters, and cold parts of the year that last too long. I am uncomfortable when cold, covered, and bundled. I feel restricted by long pants on my legs and long sleeves on my arms. Trapped. I am much more myself when little material covers me. When my skin feels the environment on it. Bare feet on earth. Air on my limbs. Water on my skin. Perhaps I was meant to plop on a beach, eating a piece of fresh and sticky fruit, any given day of the year. To live a little more wild. Feral, almost.

If I could, I would pack up and move tomorrow.

I am constantly looking up as I walk, to the sky. Anything to remind of expansion, that the planet is big, and what lies beyond is bigger.

How curious, that I should find myself tethered in this life. Bound, for awhile, too and for a magical little boy, sent straight from the stars.

Perhaps that's why I have lived so many lives here. Married. Divorced. Maybe that's why I have lived so many places, after leaving my childhood home. The home that disappeared after, and would never be an option to set foot in again.

Snippets, vignettes, with different partners, different times. I have already been so many people. I've died, and been reborn again and again right here while living. Maybe, before this round on earth, my bones knew I'd be tethered, and I made an unconscious cosmic contract to live...in bits. To always be new. And each path is the right path. Every time.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

I don't regret a single life.

Perhaps, what I've been looking for...a place to land, simply doesn't exist. Words I wrote in my early twenties while living in New York pop into my head, "I move around the world to find my home, and I still can't get it right."

Maybe I'm not meant to ever land..but just to evolve, and evolve, and evolve...constant motion...like the water I seek. Constant chapters, dying, and being reborn.

.
.
.
.

Expansion, and being bound

I am looking at the moon, and thinking both of expansion, and being bound.

I forget. I so often forget that I am a Russian nesting doll, with so many lifetimes inside of me. I've lived in other cities, I've had a big life. Teardrops are here, and on the streets of New York.

How do you ever properly close a chapter? This one has been long. The one where I am a single mom. I've been a single mom, on my own for so long now, I can't imagine what it wouldn't be like.

This is the one where I own my own my own little condo. The space that I call home for myself, and my boy. This little space of the world. This tiny square of earth...how can it feel so small, and so vast?

I think of when I was in elementary, and I was so aware of the weight of my being and the space I took up. If I stood in the corner of my room, that is all I would occupy in the world. But I felt so much bigger than what I realized I was restricted to.

I think of how ancient I was, when I was new. I think of my boy, and wonder how he experiences his being, and wonder if he is aware of his vastness or his restriction.

I am many lives packed neatly into one, wondering how you ever say goodby, or move forward, propelled into the unknown again and again...

.
.
.
.
.

A new introduction.

Welcome! 

My name is Deena Marie Manzanares. Because I think it's far more interesting to know who people are, rather than what they do, let's start there. I am a highly sensitive person who often felt my heart was made of glass, my nervous system the outside, not meant for a world so harsh. Over the years, I learned to harness life's alchemy to redirect my perceived weakness into my superpower. I am the softest warrior you'll ever meet. 

I am a single mother to my son. I saw him in a vision years before he was even a possibility. Birth was the moment of my life. Housing the bones and soul of another is completely life-altering, and put all my priorities in just the right places. He is the greatest love I've ever known. 

I'm an actor, model, and tv host. Theatre, and storytelling are sacred to me. As an actor and as an audience member, I am able to dissipate into the whole. Relating to story reminds us we are not alone. 

I am a member of Actors Equity Association, and represented by Talent Management group. I am Brand Ambassador for local business Got Beauty. I am associate artist with the Sting and Honey theatre company. I am a tv host for ABC4. 

Over the years I created a large social media following after an extremely popular YouTube channel(s). 

I am a shapeshifting poet. My heart comes in many forms. My words, my poetry, my art, my exchanges with you. 

I'm in progress. I am a giant heartbeat. I am learning. I am sharing it with you here...

Burn

The other night I dreamt my childhood home burned to the ground. I stood on top of the rubble, with other members of my family. I looked to each of them for a place to live, to be taken in. There was no one for me to stay with. Although in reality this home was sold shortly after I'd moved to New York, in my dream all of my belongings had still been in the house, and now they were gone. Everything I'd owned had burned, but I wasn't phased. In fact, I felt a relief. I could start fresh. I needed, and was attached to, nothing. Yet there was a realization of how special the walls of that home had been. What they had held was scared, and now it was gone...as if it had never stood there in the first place.

I've often documented my dreams, and the visions that have come to me in the in-between here. Some I understand the meaning of right away, and seem almost more real than reality.

This one makes sense. I've been in a state of emotional purging recently. A lot of gunk has built up inside me over the last few years. Trapped in me, I've been living with the sickness of it. PTSD, and anxiety. Physical manifestations that breathe down my neck daily, and dull my sparkle. Only recently has it started to pour out, mostly in the form of tears. This is unusual for me, to have bouts of crying. Sometimes full-on sobs. I have been in fight-or-flight for so long. I've had to hold off on letting it out due to the battles I've had to fight, raising my son, and simply not having the time. But lately it's leaking out, ready or not.

This isn't a bad thing. The webs are untangling inside from around my brain, and heart. The water from my tears is cleansing. "Make space. Clear the way." It whispers..

I have had a sense that a new page is just about to turn. The next chapter is so close. New players will enter, a new stage is set, and life begins, anew. I see white light where I once saw no color at all. I feel warmth right around the corner, coming to me from the opposite direction.

I have only felt on the verge like this one other time. I searched through my old posts until I found it, and wouldn't you know it, the date was February 2013 (here). Exactly one month before absolutely everything about my life changed in a million ways I never could have seen coming.

Is there a shedding of the skin every six or so years? I laugh to myself, remembering that every seven or so we literally become new people, as every cell in our body replaces itself with a new one.

Of course. 

I hope I'm right about this precipice. I have no reason to doubt. Everything I once had burned to the ground. I need nothing other than walls to house a sacred space, where that ends up is TBD.

But I stand calmly on the rubble.
A clean slate.
I don't feel loss.
I am not empty.
There is a hint of spring in the breeze.

I wait...

.
.
.
.

A year and a half.

The second my boy was out the door for time with his dad this morning, and I was alone, it hit me. I missed it. I missed this. I missed my blog. I missed typing up my thoughts and feelings specifically on my laptop in specifically this place. With radical life changes like motherhood, followed by single motherhood, it feels nearly impossible most days to not only have the time to sit and purge here, but also to fathom the mental and emotional capacity to even begin to find the words. Motherhood just gets busier. Babies don't do much. Toddlers do it all. Without the help of a partner, I pick and choose what I need each day when I get a minute to myself, and these days it usually means sleep. I've continued to share my thoughts, and feelings, and updates from my phone to instagram, but it's more like the cliff notes.

Logging in today, I was surprised to see my previous post. I have no memory of writing the last entry, "One year later." I read through it, and felt sad, and proud. I still have very similar feelings. I've been thinking about that the last few days, how everything is different, and yet the same. All the old versions of me that I've been through the years are still there, inside me, but buried, rearranged, and altered. I've been shuffled, and spit out, and I truly feel like it's a new chance at life that I never saw coming, one that will force me to completely reinvent myself, my wants, my intentions, my work...and I have no idea what any of that means yet.

My days are more good than bad now...and realizing that that was huge. A year and a half ago, I couldn't see my future. It's hard to explain how quickly the lights dimmed. It was instant, and I've never experienced what it was like to suddenly only see...black. I didn't think I'd survive. Healing is slow. It is an ongoing process. It sneaks up on you, and it happens bit by bit. I am not done, but I have been regenerating through this summer, and fall. I am finding my strength. I experience a quiet, fragile strength. It is not on display, it is not boasted, it takes conscious effort, it can exhaust me, and it is not as visible as I hope it is one day.

The outside eye sees me, and experiences me so differently that I see and experience myself. I'm a late bloomer in a lot of ways, when it's come to love, and awareness. What's been right in front of my eyes, and what hasn't. What's been true, excused, overlooked, and romanticized. This has made me more patient with where people are in their journey.

You cannot possibly know what it is you don't know, and each lesson is only mine/yours to learn on our own time, with our own experiences.

A big lesson in my lifetime is to trust myself. To know I am worthy and need not do anything to prove that. What is for me can't miss me. I don't need to chase, or convince anyone of that.

Easy. I need to let life come easy. Flow through it, move with it, like water. As if I've chosen every second exactly this way.

The end of this year has felt like a final exam. There are no coincidences, and in the last two months, life has presented situations to test me to make sure I've studied, and paid attention the last year and a half. Opportunities to say okay, this is what is in front of you. Are you seeing it for what it is? Or are you going to make excuses, because you want it to be something other than what it is? Now that you've rediscovered your worth, are you going to lower your value and expend time and energy in situations that constrict you? That add stress to your head and heart? Or do you get it yet? Do you get that you can say no thank you, next. And move forward?

When you pay attention, life feels tailored just for you. The more I'm in-tune, and connected to my truth, the more I see the omens, the "coincidences", and the more amazing / hilarious it is.

2018 is almost over. I am over my heartbreak. I have thorns in my side, but I know the jabs will lessen. They won't always linger. They may not even jab one day.

This is it. This is the end to this chapter. I feel it. I want it. I call it into being. The next few weeks are all about purging, and setting new intentions. Getting specific, and deliberate.

Forward. Forward now. With purpose. With balls, with a warriors heartbeat. Figuring it out a day at a time...

;

To be continued...


.
.
.
.
.
.

One year later

One year. One year ago today my life blew up. It was instant. The loss happened so quickly, I was left gasping and scrambling. I am still processing. I am still very much grieving.

I made it through the year of firsts. Holidays. Birthdays. Every season. It's interesting what you think will hurt doesn't, and what sneaks up on you with a kick to the guts. Christmas was fine, but the Tulip Festival was another story. The closing of the old bowling alley, a certain hotel in Vegas changing it's name...confirmation that my old life was over.

It's been one year since we were all under the same roof.
It's been one year since there was a real face-to-face conversation.

For one year I've avoided almost all the old haunts.
I had no energy left to spare to enjoy a lot of the things I once enjoyed.
I spent a year without my roller skates.

I've spent a lot of time feeling broken. Foggy. Scared. Bullied. Feeling that a lot of what had been the most meaningful in my life was now for naught. Wondering if I am supposed to go on living. Missing my old self. Wishing for the confidence and creativity I once had to return. Feeling hopeless that they ever will.

Somehow, I kept pushing through, and had a lot of wonderful experiences, too. I found a new freedom I enjoyed. I made deep connections with incredible women who share similar stories.

I continue to work hard in therapy to heal from my trauma and PTSD. I am slowly, slowly making progress. Baby steps. Forward motion. Glimpses of my old strength are becoming more frequent, and the waves of anxiety are happening less. The decision to take control of my own healing in a situation that left me so hopeless has been empowering and crucial.

I have gotten over the pangs of both heartbreak and jealousy that would hit when I would see a baby out with both a mom, and a dad. I am working on getting over the pangs of both heartbreak and jealously that hit when I see an announcement of baby number two.

I have forced myself out of my shell and comfort zone, a ton. This has been one of the best things for me. I have met people I never would have met otherwise and have tried my hardest to learn from each person who has crossed my path, knowing that they were all placed there for a reason.

I took some inspiration recently from a woman who after experiencing loss said something like, "Option A isn't available. And if option A isn't available...then we're going to have to rock the shit out of option B." I am still wrapping my head and heart around the fact that yes, option A isn't available. But I'm feeling more optimistic that once I know what option B is, I can rock that.

I have met new men. It's been more of a social experiment for me than anything else, because I've never dated. I've been in a long term relationship since I was 19. I need to learn who I am around new men, and what I want. It's few and far between. Dating for me has been conversation, or food or a drink. I've had a year without romance in my life. And that's okay.

I slowly feel my creativity, focus, and spirituality coming back. Like sparks lighting up through my system...a tiny bit here and there at a time...slowly coming back online. Back to life. And I'd rather give myself time to see it through and feel the difference, than to jump off a bridge.

I am learning what boundaries I need, and how to begin to draw them.

I believe, with nothing but trust and some blind faith, that there is something more for me. I don't know what that means, or when I'll get there, but I know I'm not on this earth to be shattered and stopped at this point in the story. What if this is right when it's about to get good? I have to know.

And then of course, my boy. My boy. My boy. My world. My son. I am the most happy, grounded, myself, rooted in earth, and in my essence when I am being mother. I am not sad. I am not lost. I am fully present in each moment. I am dropped in, I am there. I am just as in awe of him as I have ever been, if not more so. I know there are big lessons he is here to teach me, big things he is here to do, and I am HIS mother for reasons I have yet to know. He is my joy and my balm.

I had never known what regret felt like until this year. But when I look at my son, I know it couldn't have all been for nothing because HE came from this. Little blonde being of light, life, and magic.

I have been thinking so much about this day as it approached. I didn't know how I'd feel, or what I'd want to say. I wanted to wake up in my full power, a sense of relief. Healed.

But instead I feel sad. I feel in time I'll be okay. That one day I will wake up that way.

But today I'm sad, and that's okay, too.


.
.
.
.
.

A little bit sad.

I love this one...even though it will always make me a little bit sad. 

Like riches.

It’s been a minute. In the notes on my phone are eight blog posts since my last published post here. Some are done, others are not. I re-read them, and they are all relevant, but at this point, I’m not sure they’ll make it over here. 

Time. Is. Magic. It speeds, it slows, I can almost reach right out and touch it these days. Time. Is. Funny. You tell yourself you’re absolutely certain of one thing, and then eternity happens to you in just six months. 

So here we are. Six months since my life changed, and an eternity behind me. You don’t know how it will happen, but one day you wake up ready to heal. Ready to move on. Out of love for real, and excited to open yourself (and your heart) to all the new possibilities that lay before you like riches. One day you realize that while you were busy dismantling your old life, the fabric of your new one was weaving in and out. Intertwining, building quickly, and solidly under you...ready to catch you long before you knew you were ready.

And to leave meant to replenish. 

So one day you just wake up, ready. And okay. And whole again. And happy. And even lucky. 

And you are reminded of something you already knew to be true. That when you tell the universe you’re ready, and ask for the next phase, she delivers. I can almost hear it. The woosh as she ushers out the old, and sweeps in the new. 

It’s the next act. Here are the new players. Begin. 

.

.

.

Just one of those days.

Grief is not linear 

Love is not linear

In waves, forever in waves they’ll be.

Each person you pass by has been filled to the brim with good, and had a heart so heavy it’s all but bottomed out. Walking universes. How are we made survivable? 

Some days we are on top of the world, others we are under it. In waves, forever in waves they’ll be.

Just one of those blips, you know? Where I try to picture the future, and I can’t. Static silence. Black.

How can this be my reality? 

I’m having a (temporary) glitch.

Or this is my new normal. 

I busted my heart this year. That thing is BUST.ED.

I am continuing to survive the saddest thing I’ve ever survived. What a strange thing to say. What a weird planet.

.

.

.

Man

When asked what I’ll look for in a future partner, an image immediately pops into my brain. Not of a person, a type, or a look. No. I picture a strong, vibrant tree. Straight lines, fleshed out, and beautiful. The roots traveling deep, reaching into the earth. I can smell the soil. Above the leaves, sunshine, and clouds. But above that, are planets and nebula. Swirling deep purples and blues. I can hear the motion. Boundless expansion. This is what I will hold out for, and there’s no time frame. A wise soul, endlessly growing in both directions. Feet firmly planted. Mind blown open. A man of both earth, and the infinite.

One big goodbye

I've been thinking a lot about something an ex once said. This ex was my longest relationship. 8 years. While I wasn't ready for him, nor did I experience the romantic love needed to keep me there, looking back years later I can appreciate lessons he taught me in a whole new way. With time, distance, and the ability to compare, and contrast, I see that what I took as "too simple" was pretty darn enlightened. 

Our nights, and our Sunday's were filled with conversation of incredible range. Socialism, theatre, the universe, love, the seven wonders of the world, our dog, our childhoods, you name it and we would discuss it at length. Nighttime was often like a slumber party. We'd talk, and talk, subjects bouncing all around. We'd dig in, he'd entertain my curiosity as a willing, and equal participant. Always gentle, always open to philosophizing, he taught me to embrace, and appreciate my sensitivity. He loved my inquisitive nature, my deep thoughts, and big feelings. He allowed me to unabashedly and unapologetically be ME. I wasn't quite aware of it then, because he did it so simply. 

He was there through the first of the two hardest times I've lived through, the first being back in 2012. At this point, I knew I needed to be out of the relationship, but didn't know how to say or do it. Just then, I experience a slew of losses, and stayed put awhile longer.

We talked for months about loss, and goodbye. You'd have to scroll a ways back to find it, but there's a post here where I talk about him saying  life's a series of goodbyes, how "we all meet in the middle of one big long goodbye." I remember when he said this. It seemed uncharacteristicly profound to me at the time, although l think now I wasn't aware of his profundity that probably happened regularly. 

Five years later, I imagine him saying this, in our old kitchen. The way the light filtered in, the sound of his voice. He seemed to be discovering these words and idea in the moment as he spoke. 

This memory makes me sad, but the good kind of sad. A wave of nostalgia hits my heart, but a small smile spreads across my lips. 

His words are  a reminder for me to embrace the goodbyes. To accept, to release, to move forward knowing I will always encounter them. It's all life is...we all just meet in the middle of one big long goodbye. 

So small, and so big, isn't it?

Each goodbye teaching you how you will invest your time from here on out, what kind of people are needed next to sooth your soul, or teach the next lesson. With each goodbye, we are one evolution closer to our greatest wisdom. 

The reminder of our inevitable departure from this earth fills me with love, entire. Even when I think back the moments I thought I would die from heartbreak, I find comfort. It's all IN. It all counts. It all happened. It's all OKAY.

It's just life. This is the way it has to be.

One of my favorite quotes comes to mind, "we are all just walking each other home." We are all teaching each other along this blip of a walk, and I am grateful for each of my radically different gurus along the way. 

I am okay with where I am, presently. I can see it, it's almost tangible. Like a dot moving slowly across a line, approaching a finite end. We are all meant to be EXACTLY where we are in this EXACT moment. 

The dot is seeking...moving toward something brand new, and very much earthed.

I look forward to the next goodbye, and the next, and the next...

🖤

Let me be clear

There has been no questioning or prompting from outside sources, but I've been thinking that I needed to explain my writing a bit.

If you look back over the history of my blog, my writing peaks in times of sadness, and hardship. Heartbreak, in particular, seems to be my muse. It is when I am most open, in tune, and the words are immediate. They are raw. When I'm not struggling with something, I don't have much to write about. 

I've never kept a blog that is just day-to-day humdrum. That's not what this outlet is for me here. This is my heart-on-my-sleeve, pour-it-all-out, cathartic, therapeutic, artistic outlet for words. I have always said how much I love words. I love putting my feelings into form on the page. 

I like my writing, I take pride in my writing. I love the connection it gives me to others, when I hear feedback that I am speaking for / to them. 

But what I want to make clear, is that I put into words fleeting feelings. All feelings are temporary. My writing is poetic. It is not always literal. 

What I mean is, I am not living in sadness 100% of the time. I have moments of great happiness and excitement through the day, on any given day. I am finding as I get older, my natural state is optimism. I can't be held down for too long, without naturally bouncing back. Even when it means loosing the muse. 

I am not literally waiting for the one who broke my heart to bound back through the door, making our family whole again. Like any human, on occasion, I miss the good times. I do not miss the bad. I would not accept the bad again.

I am working through feelings when the flashes of hurt hit, and it feels so good to get them out here. I love the art of it, that the simplest flash sometimes spins into the best blog. I love the writings, and the musings that come. I love that they are coming, and that I feel connected to myself so deeply these days. Emotionally, and artistically. 

I hope that makes sense, and I hope all keep that in mind as you wander through my life here. 

***********

These days, I'm thinking a lot about the reset button. When you've lost everything, you have nothing to lose. I am redefining. Questioning what boundaries mean to me, in all aspects of my life, and consciously trying to set them where they haven't been, or where they need adjustments. I am looking deeply inward, asking myself what is comfortable to me. Where I can breathe easy, or not. Where I feel safe, and peaceful. What perimeters I can live with, or without. What I need in the space I exist in. What I look for in a partner, and in friends. What I need to continue to mother my child in the way I know is best for him, and for me. I am learning that the reset button is not the monster I thought it was. Not even a little bit. I continually feel myself expanding, attracting, ready to accept all my new adventures that are presenting themselves. I feel myself shedding the skin of my old life more each day. I just may not have much to write about soon...

*

*

*

August blurbs

A couple of musings from August 16th, the anniversary that wasn't.

one

In 2012, I shattered, entire. As I built myself back over a summer, fall, and winter, I was never more open. The omens were everywhere, and that's when I learned the universe is tailored just for me, as it is for you. 

Relatives who had passed on came to visit me in animal form. The animals were everywhere. There were notes scrawled on the sidewalks, and the walls. I had visions of the child I would one day mother. I had dreams where I traveled from this plane, I saw heaven. 

Never again, have I experienced that kind of connection to the universe. Never again, have I been that earthed.

Maybe I didn't need it. Until now. "I could sure use an omen or two", I've been whispering to the cosmos. 

But I know it requires just as much effort on my part. 

I must not be cloudy. 

I must pay attention. 

I must know it when I see it. 

The visit from my ancestors yesterday was one. 

When you left me, I experienced a dream like those from five years ago. This time it was to be embraced by a real, and equal love. How different.

Today's omen came in the reminder that there are no coincidences, and time is magical.

A chance conversation with a stranger to give me all the right reminders, and to send me on my way...okay. 

two

What I would say to you today, if I could?

Today, I sat where we sat every year. I had to go to our spot, because where else would I go? Buried deep, or not so deep at all, was my hope to see you. To see you had taken the day off. To be here. 

"Your last name is Wride?" Surely someone would say. "How funny, there is a man here with that same last name!"

I wanted to write you. "Please, as someone who was so recently your wife, and love, give me a moment off the record. Please, if there is any part of you, I don't care how small, who doubts this...meet me tonight. If somewhere in there, past ego, past pride, you feel you don't want this, this emotional, financial, mental, devastation of us, meet me. Meet me in the lobby of our spot. 6 pm. The time we said our vows three years ago today. I'll be waiting for you with a glass of champagne. And if you choose not to, please don't use this against me. Please disregard this, as someone who was so recently your wife, and love."

In my minds eye, he he comes. He walks in, wearing his suit. He doesn't want our destruction. He wants to come home. "Yes," I say. But I approach delicately. I ask we just try for a day, or a weekend. It's so fragile. 

And that's where it stops. I can't see further. And I know I am not allowed to ask this of him, although this is my biggest wish. 

Come home, my heart says. Come home. 

*

*

*

Now.

This morning was different.

Out for a walk, I could hear it. I could feel the pulse. I was so away of the universe breathing. It was alive, I was a part of it, and I was in sync like I hadn't been in five years.

I am focusing on breathing today. I am aware. I am alive. I am breathing deeply and purposefully.

What if this is exactly where I am supposed to be? What if, after a false start, this is the beginning...of everything?


Eternal retour, eternal retour, eternal retour.


Inhale. Exhale. Begin.



*
*

Nowhere to go.

"Grief is just love with nowhere to go." 

I've stumbled upon the perfect quote, and I'm thinking of it throughout the day. I ping-pong between moments of rest, and being seized with sadness. For a minute I think I'm going to be okay, and then my heartbreak is debilitating. 

I can't help but feel this is a monstrous waste. A rash, hurried, angry waste. The depths of what this is are unbearable. I do not want this. I do not want this for me. I do not want this for him. I do not want this for our boy. 

My boy no longer lives under the same roof as his mother and father. 

He will never see us kiss. 
He will never bound into our bed, waking us up early on a Christmas morning. 
He will never sit between us on the couch, watching a Disney movie. 
He will not take another family vacation. 
He will not be given a sibling from the two of us. 
He will never hear us tell the other, "I love you." 
He will not remember how hard it got for the two of us, but also how much love was there. 

All time is happening at once. We are speaking our wedding vows, we are watching our son be born, we are divorcing. Divorcing. And what can I do? What was I to do when I was being taunted with the word, divorce, for over a year? What was I to do, but beg and plead and nearly lose my dignity in the process? Don't leave me. What could I do, if I alone was willing to walk through the fires, to the ends of the earth, to fix anything and everything that came our way? 

What if what came our way damaged me emotionally, mentally, and physically in the process? My appetite vanished, my anxiety mounted, and I questioned my self worth. My worth. To feel unworthy is a scary spot to be. 

But what if I still I wanted to fight for us? What happens when one won't stop fighting, and the other won't start? What's to be done when you're desperate to draw someone out of communication shut-down, and they aren't a willing participant? What do you do when you ask for help for him, for you, for your baby, and nobody answers your cries? 

What if, despite it all, you don't want it to end? 

To end without a fight is such a devastating shame. In these moments, where I can't catch my breath, I am sinking. My love with nowhere to go is suffocating. So abrupt. 

I longed to talk about the depths of motherhood. But depth became off limits. Wasn't this just a season of life? Weren't we just getting back to dates? Planning our first getaway early next year for just the two of us? We had just begun. Barely at three years of marriage. I couldn't even have three, and I would have given every single one I had left. I am forever altered by this. 

How could so much be taken from me? This is a low, low grief. 


And when I see him...how will I ever look at him and not see my husband? I will miss him forever. I will love him for always. I move forward off-kilter, housing something broken inside. 

It is gone. It is all gone. 

Maybe this was never mine to keep. This is not the first time my heart has been shattered by my Great Love. The one who left me behind once for eight months. From that I barely recovered. Here we go again. 

My Great Love who talked of our future up until the moment our lives exploded. My Great Love who tried to leave me so many times. It was inevitable. How many times must I be left, or told I'm going to be left, before I believe it, and act on it as well? How many more days can I stay, scared? Physically, mentally, and emotionally declining? Scared of an anger that my Great Love came with, and one that seems to be amplified by life with me. 

Yet my heart still screams: Stop this! Stop all of this! End it now! Fight for this! This is can't be how our story ends! Don't run away! Look ahead! This shattered life is not for us!

Grief is just love with nowhere to go. I've been broken, but my love stayed intact. 

Thank goodness for our son. Our beautiful, magical son. He is a bit of what was, of what I believe should still be, and all the reason in the world to press on. The brightest spot in my life. The boy who I'm said to love too much. To me, there will never be any such thing as too much. 

Thank god for my capacity to love, and my role as his mother. 

This tiny boy has saved my life.