I don’t regret my choices.  I can’t.  Regret is no place to live.  I know that.  But.  Yes, there is a but.  If I had to do it again.  If I could go back in time, I’ve started thinking maybe I  would have done it differently…

The past two years for me have been all about change.  Transformation.  Becoming a version of myself I never knew possible and doing things I never even knew I wanted.  Living a life past what I ever believed possible.  I haven’t hid the fact that I was very unhappy for a long time.  It was pretty bad, and when I saw a chance at a different life, I took it.  I took it and didn’t look back.  I still can’t believe how bold and confident I became.  How quickly I began to take chances and risks.  There for awhile I was about as close to fearless as you can get.

I wanted to get as far away from my past as quickly as possible.  I just wanted to move on.  Run.  Sprint.  Forget all of it.  Just be done.  And that’s what I did pretty much.  I shut the door on that part of my life and walked away.  I didn’t cry the day my divorce was final.  I didn’t feel pain or frustration or even anger.  I don’t know if I even felt.  It was more like a business transaction.  Just a task I needed to do. I handled it and then I was done.

And then I went and lived life.  I took dreams and made them a reality.   I did things I had been afraid to do for decades.  I did things bigger than my dreams.  Seriously crazy, unexpected, “what the hell was I thinking”  kind of shit.   I was unapologetically me.  Open.  Honest.  Vulnerable.  For the first time in maybe my entire life I didn’t care what anyone thought of me other than me.  I loved that me.  I loved that time in my life.  It was really, really good.

And then this year happened.  Maybe it was just that 2020 did a number on us all.  Maybe it was just a pace I was never going to be able to keep up with.  Maybe it was always going to be part of the process.  I don’t know.  But I do know this year was different.  It’s kind of hard to articulate but I feel like I was on swing.  Soaring forward with these amazing highs.   I found love and a partner and a best friend.  I got time and memories with my teenage sons.  Sun on my face.  Wind in my hair.  Soaring.  A life I loved.

Gritted teeth.  Eyes rolled.  Tears.  Anger.  Frustration.  Resentment.  Each time I was pulled back to the ground.  Each time it didn’t last.  Fighting the same battles again and again when it was a war I never wanted or believed in.  Putting the past behind me only to have it grab me again.  Exhaustion.  Not tired.  Exhausted.  From all of it.  Everything.  Parenting is hard.  Parenting teenagers is ridiculous.  Starting a new job is hard.  Starting a new teaching job in a pandemic is also ridiculous.  New people and new expectations.  Adjustments.  Compromises.  Divorce is hard.  Don’t let anyone tell you differently.  It sucks.  A life I hated .  Forward and backward.  Up and down. Believing and hoping.  Giving up.  That was my year.

So I think what I’m going to differently this year is I’m going to stop.  Get off the swing and stand where it all started.  In the ruins.  In the ruins of a relationship that didn’t work.  In the ruins of a family that was divided.  In the ruins of a life that veered off course.  In the ruins of a women who was broken.  This year I think I am finally ready to take it all in.  See it all.  Feel it all.  Experience it all.  I think it’s time.

Two years ago I saw everything that was gone.  Broken.  Torn and battered.  Missing.  All I could see were the pieces of a life that collapsed.  The pieces of women who shattered.  This year I want to do things differently.  I want to learn to see everything that survived.  See that I was left with so much more than was ever taken away.  I want take those pieces and cherish them.  Remember them.  Learn to love them.  Use them to mend and repair.  Create something new.  Better.  Stronger.  The pieces of that life need to be the foundation for all that comes next.

I’m going to stand in the ruins as long as I need to and then start moving.  Not away this time.  Not on this time.  Not as fast as I possibly can.  This time I go slow.  Take all the time I need and then this time I move up. This time I rise.  This time everything comes with me.  I take the tears and doubt and fears and make them my strength.  The perseverance and resilience and tenacity will give me the determination I will need.  The love and the laughter and the hope will become my momentum.  My motivation.  My reasons why.  This time my hands are out.  My eyes are open.  My heart is available.  I won’t be alone.  Help and guidance and support will be accepted.  I never needed a new life.  I never needed to become a new person.  That’s what I think I know now.  I just needed to rise above the ruins.  I just needed a new view.