There was a (mostly unmemorable) Julie Roberts movie a few years back called Runaway Bride. I've forgotten most of the details but the one that stuck with me is about the eggs. In her many relationships, the main character ate her eggs just the way her partner did, believing that what he loved is what she loved.
I did that, too. It occurs to me that I did that literally, as well as figuratively: my ex likes his eggs scrambled with cheese on top, and that's how I ate mine when we were together.
How does a person forget how they like their eggs?
***
In my family of origin, perhaps like many families in my era, there were two ways to do things: my dad's way, or the wrong way. If I liked what my dad liked, I was a good little girl. If I disliked what my dad liked, I was "difficult" and (one of my least favorite words ever, because it was applied to me so often) "persnickety." Having an opinion different than his meant that I was being disrespectful, that I had bad taste, that I clearly hadn't thought it through.
I knew this about my father and rebelled against it in my teen years, like so many teens, and I thought that my rebellion was a sure sign that I had dealt with it, made up my own mind about how to do things, and that I was done being a people pleaser.
Au contraire.
It takes a lot more work than simply getting mad at dear ol' dad to move past things to change the pattern.
***
Bryan liked jazz. I once spent a painful day at an all day jazz festival where I had to resist the urge to jump up and down shouting "I'm 32 years old and I DO NOT WANT TO LISTEN TO ELEVATOR MUSIC!" (I know that there is very "un-elevator music" jazz. This was not that.) The music was like water torture to me, and instead of saying "You should go with your friends and I'll do something else" I went and spent the whole day at the concert thinking, "I must not be smart enough to enjoy this; it's got a classy quality and I know the fact that I would prefer to listen to pop music makes me seem less substantial and I should learn to like this..." and so I tried my hardest to enjoy it and pushed down my feelings of dislike, or to think about how much money the tickets cost and that I hadn't been to one of "my" concerts in years.
When I turned on the radio, Bryan would say, "You're not going to listen to THAT, are you?" and I would sheepishly turn the dial to something he liked.
Bryan liked bread and cheese, in vast quantities. When the waitress said, "May I refill your bread basket?" the answer was always yes, and the bread basket was always empty and needing refilling. Before dinner, he could go through a wedge of cheese no problem. With meals, he liked cheese. Cheese on his eggs, cheese in his lunch, cheese with dinner, cheese before dinner, cheese and crackers as a snack. Toast at breakfast, sandwiches or burgers on buns at lunch, bread with dinner, bread or crackers for snacks. I told myself "It's a French way of eating" and "Why do I always have to be such a nay-sayer, why deny myself or him such simple pleasures?" I ate what he did, in slightly smaller quantities, but I still gained 20 pounds during my marriage and felt sluggish (he gained much much more and acted much more sluggish), but I told myself that I'd rather celebrate life (more bread and cheese!) than be miserly about simple pleasures.
Bryan ate large quantities of cheese with every meal and complained about his body - obese - bitterly. When I made a healthy meal - maybe a chicken curry, or grilled salmon and veggies - he complained, and ate a giant snack at bedtime, consisting of....cheese.
Bryan liked to shop for his clothes at Costco, and considered fashion a waste of time, energy, and money; he mocked people for their fashion, and if I said that I wanted to go clothes shopping with a girlfriend he acted like it was the most shallow activity in the world. I never 100% came to his side of that equation, always secretly coveting beautiful clothes worn thoughtfully...but I gave up my fight, and felt myself get frumpier and frumpier, but told myself that I was living more important values.
I look back at photographs from that time and think, "MOM JEANS! Why was I wearing mom jeans?!"
The list could go on and on. What time we went to bed, what time we got up. Music, food, art. Leisure time. It wasn't until we got divorced and needed to divvy up the furniture that I realized that though every single piece of furniture purchased during the marriage was to his preference (Mission style) and that though I had "happily" agreed to all of it....I hated it. I find Mission lines to be too sharp, too heavy, too masculine, and I like my furniture to feel lighter, curvier, more feminine. I was more surprised than he was (and he was plenty surprised) when I told him he could have it all, because I'd rather shop for furniture on Craigslist and yard sales than have Mission style furniture, which didn't represent who I am in any way.
***
I am aware now that this did not make me a better spouse. I am aware that this meant that there was a falseness to my interactions with Bryan, and that it doesn't reflect well on me to say these things; my intentions might have been good (keep the peace) but the outcome wasn't good. I can accept that: I made mistakes in my marriage, and one of the main ones was that I yielded all the time, trying not to rock the boat, and that meant that I agreed to things I never should have agreed to, offering a false version of myself, not only to Bryan but to myself as well. A marriage built on swallowed resentments can not thrive.
I wouldn't want to be with someone who agreed with me to placate me. Maybe, ultimately, Bryan didn't want that either. It's hard to tell, because when I suggested an alternate way, he shut me down, made fun of my choices or tastes, or acted like he was very put out because I was unsupportive, and I struggle with wondering why he did that, just as I wonder why my father treated me that way.
But this isn't about him, it's about me.
In any future partner, should there be one, I will bring my tastes and choices to the table, knowing what they are and standing my ground. There's room for compromise, certainly, but compromise does not mean "doing it the other person's way every time," and it does not mean "giving up what I believe in." There will be give and take next time, not just give.
***
What do I like? I know the answers! And I'm not ashamed of them! And if you, dear reader, read this list and think "ew!" or "yuck!" or "I hate that style!" then you know what? It's okay! We can still be friends, because I hope you value the qualities of my heart and mind more than the small extras; that you are drawn to me because of the way I think, and that if we disagree about music (maybe you like elevator music, too!) then we can still be friends.
But we don't need to go to an all day smooth jazz concert together. Ever.
***
I like, in no particular order:
- High heels, pencil skirts, ladylike blouses. Little black dresses. Sundresses. Classic clothing, not too trendy. Blazers with jeans and ballet flats, dresses with defined waists. Black, white. I'd rather pay a bit more for something and have fewer items. I do not, ever, ever, ever shop at Costco for clothing.
- I like to get up really, really early, before the sun rises, and have quiet time to myself. I go to bed at about the same time Katherine does as a result...but it's worth it to me.
- I love female singer-songwriters like Brandi Carlile, Emmylou Harris, Sarah McLachlan. And I love all kinds of silly pop music, and happily sing along with Katy Perry on "Roar" or Sara Bareilles with "Brave." I enjoy some country music. I don't like jazz very much. I love Beethoven and Mozart, but not all the time. I dislike hip hop and rap.
- I love cottage style. Not the kitschy kind with gingham and words stenciled on everything and chickens for décor, but an eclectic combination of beach style and English or French cottage style. I like antique mahogany pieces mixed in with lighter, more contemporary pieces. I like curving white dishes in interesting shapes. I like silver trays filled with seashells. I like books, and bookcases, in every room. I like a lot of white. I like art walls filled with pieces that mean something to me, even if the frames or artistic styles don't match. I like some contemporary art, Emily Carr, northwest Native American art, impressionist art, Group of Seven art, Renaissance art, and pictures (from any era) of women reading. I don't like abstract art, or art with sharp black lines.
- I like to have coffee for breakfast, giant salads for lunch (with beans and avocado and a mixture of greens and veggies), and a hearty dinner (hold the bread, please, except on special occasions). I like limited amounts of cheese, because then I feel better. I like wine on occasion, but not every day.
- I like to hike, to run, to bike, to walk, to explore. I want to move my body and get out and see things, and given a chance, I'd do that every day.
- On weekends I want to go explore: a museum, a nearby town, a beach, a trail, a concert. I want to canoe or kayak, take the tour, hit the road, hit the trail. I don't care about TV. I don't want to sleep until noon, I want to get out into the world.
***
I'm willing to stand up for what I like now, never again agreeing to someone else's ways just to keep the peace. The irony doesn't escape me: I tried to keep the peace all the way until my divorce, and we all know that divorce is about the least peaceful process ever, no matter how well it's done. (It's soul wrenching.)
With Bryan, for whatever his own reasons, he responded like my father did when we had a disagreement. He disapproved of me, he felt undervalued, it became a test of my love for him. By yielding, I was trying to say, "I care about you and I will give you this piece of myself as proof of that love," just as I had with my father.
But love doesn't work like that, and so it didn't work. I could not fill up the holes inside of Bryan, because that is not something a partner, even a loving partner, can do.
***
I hope that by recognizing the patterns, I can escape repeating them.
The world will not end if I say, "Here's what I like, and I feel strongly about it." The world will not end if I say, "Tonight I'm making my favorite meal for dinner," instead of always making someone else's favorites. The right partner won't argue with me if I say, "Last weekend we did X (his preference), so this weekend let's do Y (my preference)."
Maybe I'll even find a partner who even truly shares my preference, who has a passion for things I'm passionate about. What would it be like to have a partner that said, "I found a hike online that I haven't done before - let's pack our backpacks tonight and get to bed early so that we can be at the trailhead before 8am tomorrow"? What would it be like to have a partner who said, "I went by the market and picked up some Dungeness crabs for dinner - I thought I'd throw together a salad and I can have dinner on the table at 6 if you like"? What would it be like to have a partner who said, "I was reading the paper and that play you were interested in is coming to town - it's getting good reviews and I'd like to go too!"
And when we don't agree? What if he laughed and said, "You go ahead and go with your girlfriends to that show - I'm afraid it's not my style," or "I'm buying (insert sports team) seasons' tickets with my friend but don't worry I don't expect you to come," (to which I would say "thank you" because I'm not into watching sports). What if he didn't like seafood (oh no!) but knew I did so he said, "I went by the market and got some salmon for you and some chicken for me - let's grill tonight"?
It's not rocket science, but it will require me being honest about what I like and not backing down if he disagrees with my opinion "to keep the peace." It's harder than it sounds when you've been conditioned since birth to do so.
***
I like my eggs scrambled, with avocado and salsa on top. For lunch, not for breakfast.
***
How do you like your eggs? Did you, too, forget what mattered to you when you were married? What have you remembered since your divorce? What small pleasures have returned to you since divorcing? What styles have you (re)discovered? How do you spend your happy leisure time in your new life?
If you forgot how you liked your eggs....why is that? Did you learn it in your family of origin, or somewhere else?
How do you plan to remember what you value, never again giving it up?
Showing posts with label learning from divorce. Show all posts
Showing posts with label learning from divorce. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
Friday, December 13, 2013
Letting Go
I find it really easy to scoop up new things - possessions for sure, but also friends, ideas, activities, volunteer projects. It's so easy to add to my life when the world is full of interesting things to do and I refuse to sit and just let them pass me by.
Letting things go is much harder. Actually, it's easiest to let possessions go: I like nice things, for certain, but I've never been a shopper the way some people are. I actually wish that my house could magically fill with the perfect items but that I never had to step foot in a mall again. In the past few years I realized that I had everything I needed - a fully functional kitchen, plenty of chairs to sit on, extra blankets, etc. - and I've really focused only on replacing what breaks or wears out (it happens) or on adding hand made pieces. (One day, there will not be a single print hanging on my walls, to be replaced by all original artwork. Not sure when that day is coming. ;-) ) I love going on a de-cluttering streak, and I've constantly got a pile of stuff in the attic in the "Goes to Goodwill" area. (Where does all that stuff COME from?!)
But letting go of ideas is harder, and letting go of people is the hardest of all.
This year, in addition to adding to my life - work, running, volunteering, hiking, backpacking - I have had to let things go.
I've never really had a hard time keeping my house clean and tidy: I grew up in a home that was a disaster zone, so perhaps my rebellion is keeping the towels in tidy stacks in the cupboard, the newspapers in a special basket next to the chair (but not all over the sofa), the kitchen sink clean and ready for the next batch of dishes. Rebellion can come in mysterious ways. ;-) This year, I had to let go of some of that. I don't know how many times Katherine asked me for an item of clothing and I said, "I dunno. Have you looked in the laundry baskets?" because getting things folded and put away simply hadn't happened yet. I used to vacuum practically daily - I have a large, hairy dog - and I've all but given up on ever having clean floors again, vacuuming once a week now. I cringe a bit to write that - maybe I could vacuum before bedtime daily? or right before dinner? - because it IS nice to have clean floors....but forget it. I am letting go, and the result is that I have more time to do things I *do* care about, like talk to my daughter. My house is less clean than it's ever been, my garden (which used to be lovely and filled with abundance) is all but abandoned, and I have accepted that. It is what it is right now, and at some level, I'm okay with it. We're not slobs by any means, but I've let my cleaning standards fall in my single mom life, and I think it's the right thing to do.
I've had to let go of the idea that I could do everything that interests me, everything that I value. I loved having a vegetable garden - interspersed with flowers - and delighted in telling Katherine to go pick "a tomato, some lettuce, and some radishes for salad" and having her say "I'm going to pull a carrot for a snack, too!" at dinnertime. My home made strawberry jam (made with strawberries from my garden) is to die for - the best you've ever tasted - but I don't know when I'll make that again. I no longer serve on committees at church. Actually, I often skip church, because there are so many things to do and time is so short. (It's hard to leave town for the weekend AND be at church, for example.)
I've had to let go of people, too, and that is some of the most difficult letting go. I can not rescue every person who comes into my path, for one, and sometimes in the past year I've had women who are going through divorce approach me and ask for my help. I'm very willing to give that help....to a degree. I am not willing to give up my life to become an (unqualified) therapist...and I'm not willing to help people who do not want to be helped, at the cost of my own sanity. Plenty of women going through divorce say to me, "You're so successful at your divorce, and you're so happy, and I want what you have!" and so I tell them how I do it, and then they say, "That is too hard" and "But my ex is unreasonable!" and "But I want to do it my way!" I'm having to let all of that go, and to learn how to smile and wish them well, but refuse to be a part of it, wishing them well from the sidelines but not an active part of it. I'm also learning not to second-guess myself about my decision not to be involved - I really would like to help save the world, but something I know now is that you can not save someone who doesn't want to be saved.
And the person I can not save, that I tried the hardest to save, is my ex.
You might think that I let that go when I asked for a divorce, but the process has actually been much longer than that.
I watch my ex struggle. He struggles with his whole life: friendships, family relationships, work, health (depression, high blood pressure, cholesterol) and weight. He has trouble managing his money, and accrues debt easily, always living paycheck to paycheck. He also struggles with parenting, and relies heavily on television and junk food to reach our daughter's heart. I have wanted, even in divorce, to make him the parent that I want him to be.
How foolish of me. If I couldn't influence him in marriage, what made me think I could influence him by divorcing him?!
When Bryan told me that he wanted to have our daughter on an every other weekend schedule (with two hours on Wednesdays), I was dumbfounded. So little?! But he told me how much he loved her, how the idea of living apart from her was a nightmare to him! I have had to let go of the idea that she will have a dad who seeks her out, and offers his whole self to parenting. I have had to let go of the idea that there is another member of my team willing to drive around purchasing school supplies, or getting poster materials for the science fair. Nobody else is going to check to see if her homework is done, or sit at the table to help her work through her essay. Nobody else is going to say "When was the last time you ate a vegetable?!" and nobody else is going to say "Hurry up and eat your breakfast, honey, or you'll be late for school." Nobody else is going to talk to her about dating, or drugs, or college.
I've had to let go of a lot of expectations with my ex. Letting go has been painful, because I deeply believe that if he behaved differently, he'd be a better parent, a better person, and actually a lot happier.
But it's out of my control, so I'm letting go.
Letting go does NOT mean sitting here seething as I write this. That's not letting go, that's holding on to anger and feeling powerless.
I have chosen to feel powerful in every aspect of my life, but my power is not over others, it's over myself. I refuse to be ashamed of my less-than-clean floors, and I refuse to live in anger because my ex is not who I wish he was.
I feel powerful because I recognize that I have a great deal to offer our daughter, and that when he left all of the heavy lifting of parenting to me, he gave me not only the responsibility but also the gift. I feel powerful because I know I'm capable, and that I can do a good job.
I can let go of my ex's behavior because holding on to the desire to change him doesn't serve anyone. I have decided that four days of junk food and television per month won't kill Katherine, and I've learned that it's a good idea to serve a vegetable AND a fruit with dinner when she gets home from her dad's place, because she arrives with an upset stomach (and pockets full of empty candy bar wrappers). I've learned that it's pointless to waste time hoping that they'll go to the pool, the park, hop on a bike, go for a hike, or spend any time moving their bodies when they're together, because that is just not what he does. I've learned that the advantage of being the only one to have the tough homework conversations, the "big stuff" conversations, is that I know I am thoughtful in my approach and I have the tools to be successful, so I can control those conversations better, I can teach the homework skills (discipline, topic sentences, whatever it may be), and I have the opportunity to be the primary influence over her values, because I'm the only one talking about them.
I am getting better at letting go. It doesn't come easily to me, as I've spent the majority of my life trying to control every possible outcome, desperate to make things okay. Realizing that I'm okay even without controlling everything is, well, a huge relief, but the unexpected consequence of that is that when I recognized that my ability to control people is limited at best, instead of feeling like the world was spiraling in a scary way, I feel more grounded than ever.
It turns out that letting go is one of those leaps of faith that has to be felt to be believed. I have held on tenaciously, desperately, to my old ideas of how things "should" be, only to feel the world unravel, crumbling in my grip. For years and years, I tried to make my marriage something it was not, and the desperation in that holding on was painful beyond description. When I "let go" of that was when my life started to come together, when I actually started to feel the peace that I'd been so anxiously seeking. It turns out that there is a lot of letting go that needs to happen in my life, even post divorce, and that perhaps I will have to spend the rest of my life letting go of Bryan, and of what I wished he could be for Katherine. I do this letting go imperfectly, but I am seeing the value in it, and that the only way I'll ever feel true peace is if I embrace it.
I believe that only by letting go of what is outside my control can I truly create the life I want. Maybe that is one of the gifts of my divorce: by giving up the thing I fought so hard for, I found that other gifts came to me, perhaps even more valuable than what I had tried so hard to hold onto.
****
What have you had to let go of? What is it that you try to control, that actually controls you? What gifts have you received by letting go of what no longer serves you?
Letting things go is much harder. Actually, it's easiest to let possessions go: I like nice things, for certain, but I've never been a shopper the way some people are. I actually wish that my house could magically fill with the perfect items but that I never had to step foot in a mall again. In the past few years I realized that I had everything I needed - a fully functional kitchen, plenty of chairs to sit on, extra blankets, etc. - and I've really focused only on replacing what breaks or wears out (it happens) or on adding hand made pieces. (One day, there will not be a single print hanging on my walls, to be replaced by all original artwork. Not sure when that day is coming. ;-) ) I love going on a de-cluttering streak, and I've constantly got a pile of stuff in the attic in the "Goes to Goodwill" area. (Where does all that stuff COME from?!)
But letting go of ideas is harder, and letting go of people is the hardest of all.
This year, in addition to adding to my life - work, running, volunteering, hiking, backpacking - I have had to let things go.
I've never really had a hard time keeping my house clean and tidy: I grew up in a home that was a disaster zone, so perhaps my rebellion is keeping the towels in tidy stacks in the cupboard, the newspapers in a special basket next to the chair (but not all over the sofa), the kitchen sink clean and ready for the next batch of dishes. Rebellion can come in mysterious ways. ;-) This year, I had to let go of some of that. I don't know how many times Katherine asked me for an item of clothing and I said, "I dunno. Have you looked in the laundry baskets?" because getting things folded and put away simply hadn't happened yet. I used to vacuum practically daily - I have a large, hairy dog - and I've all but given up on ever having clean floors again, vacuuming once a week now. I cringe a bit to write that - maybe I could vacuum before bedtime daily? or right before dinner? - because it IS nice to have clean floors....but forget it. I am letting go, and the result is that I have more time to do things I *do* care about, like talk to my daughter. My house is less clean than it's ever been, my garden (which used to be lovely and filled with abundance) is all but abandoned, and I have accepted that. It is what it is right now, and at some level, I'm okay with it. We're not slobs by any means, but I've let my cleaning standards fall in my single mom life, and I think it's the right thing to do.
I've had to let go of the idea that I could do everything that interests me, everything that I value. I loved having a vegetable garden - interspersed with flowers - and delighted in telling Katherine to go pick "a tomato, some lettuce, and some radishes for salad" and having her say "I'm going to pull a carrot for a snack, too!" at dinnertime. My home made strawberry jam (made with strawberries from my garden) is to die for - the best you've ever tasted - but I don't know when I'll make that again. I no longer serve on committees at church. Actually, I often skip church, because there are so many things to do and time is so short. (It's hard to leave town for the weekend AND be at church, for example.)
I've had to let go of people, too, and that is some of the most difficult letting go. I can not rescue every person who comes into my path, for one, and sometimes in the past year I've had women who are going through divorce approach me and ask for my help. I'm very willing to give that help....to a degree. I am not willing to give up my life to become an (unqualified) therapist...and I'm not willing to help people who do not want to be helped, at the cost of my own sanity. Plenty of women going through divorce say to me, "You're so successful at your divorce, and you're so happy, and I want what you have!" and so I tell them how I do it, and then they say, "That is too hard" and "But my ex is unreasonable!" and "But I want to do it my way!" I'm having to let all of that go, and to learn how to smile and wish them well, but refuse to be a part of it, wishing them well from the sidelines but not an active part of it. I'm also learning not to second-guess myself about my decision not to be involved - I really would like to help save the world, but something I know now is that you can not save someone who doesn't want to be saved.
And the person I can not save, that I tried the hardest to save, is my ex.
You might think that I let that go when I asked for a divorce, but the process has actually been much longer than that.
I watch my ex struggle. He struggles with his whole life: friendships, family relationships, work, health (depression, high blood pressure, cholesterol) and weight. He has trouble managing his money, and accrues debt easily, always living paycheck to paycheck. He also struggles with parenting, and relies heavily on television and junk food to reach our daughter's heart. I have wanted, even in divorce, to make him the parent that I want him to be.
How foolish of me. If I couldn't influence him in marriage, what made me think I could influence him by divorcing him?!
When Bryan told me that he wanted to have our daughter on an every other weekend schedule (with two hours on Wednesdays), I was dumbfounded. So little?! But he told me how much he loved her, how the idea of living apart from her was a nightmare to him! I have had to let go of the idea that she will have a dad who seeks her out, and offers his whole self to parenting. I have had to let go of the idea that there is another member of my team willing to drive around purchasing school supplies, or getting poster materials for the science fair. Nobody else is going to check to see if her homework is done, or sit at the table to help her work through her essay. Nobody else is going to say "When was the last time you ate a vegetable?!" and nobody else is going to say "Hurry up and eat your breakfast, honey, or you'll be late for school." Nobody else is going to talk to her about dating, or drugs, or college.
I've had to let go of a lot of expectations with my ex. Letting go has been painful, because I deeply believe that if he behaved differently, he'd be a better parent, a better person, and actually a lot happier.
But it's out of my control, so I'm letting go.
Letting go does NOT mean sitting here seething as I write this. That's not letting go, that's holding on to anger and feeling powerless.
I have chosen to feel powerful in every aspect of my life, but my power is not over others, it's over myself. I refuse to be ashamed of my less-than-clean floors, and I refuse to live in anger because my ex is not who I wish he was.
I feel powerful because I recognize that I have a great deal to offer our daughter, and that when he left all of the heavy lifting of parenting to me, he gave me not only the responsibility but also the gift. I feel powerful because I know I'm capable, and that I can do a good job.
I can let go of my ex's behavior because holding on to the desire to change him doesn't serve anyone. I have decided that four days of junk food and television per month won't kill Katherine, and I've learned that it's a good idea to serve a vegetable AND a fruit with dinner when she gets home from her dad's place, because she arrives with an upset stomach (and pockets full of empty candy bar wrappers). I've learned that it's pointless to waste time hoping that they'll go to the pool, the park, hop on a bike, go for a hike, or spend any time moving their bodies when they're together, because that is just not what he does. I've learned that the advantage of being the only one to have the tough homework conversations, the "big stuff" conversations, is that I know I am thoughtful in my approach and I have the tools to be successful, so I can control those conversations better, I can teach the homework skills (discipline, topic sentences, whatever it may be), and I have the opportunity to be the primary influence over her values, because I'm the only one talking about them.
I am getting better at letting go. It doesn't come easily to me, as I've spent the majority of my life trying to control every possible outcome, desperate to make things okay. Realizing that I'm okay even without controlling everything is, well, a huge relief, but the unexpected consequence of that is that when I recognized that my ability to control people is limited at best, instead of feeling like the world was spiraling in a scary way, I feel more grounded than ever.
It turns out that letting go is one of those leaps of faith that has to be felt to be believed. I have held on tenaciously, desperately, to my old ideas of how things "should" be, only to feel the world unravel, crumbling in my grip. For years and years, I tried to make my marriage something it was not, and the desperation in that holding on was painful beyond description. When I "let go" of that was when my life started to come together, when I actually started to feel the peace that I'd been so anxiously seeking. It turns out that there is a lot of letting go that needs to happen in my life, even post divorce, and that perhaps I will have to spend the rest of my life letting go of Bryan, and of what I wished he could be for Katherine. I do this letting go imperfectly, but I am seeing the value in it, and that the only way I'll ever feel true peace is if I embrace it.
I believe that only by letting go of what is outside my control can I truly create the life I want. Maybe that is one of the gifts of my divorce: by giving up the thing I fought so hard for, I found that other gifts came to me, perhaps even more valuable than what I had tried so hard to hold onto.
****
What have you had to let go of? What is it that you try to control, that actually controls you? What gifts have you received by letting go of what no longer serves you?
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