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Last kiss

It rare that the last kiss between lovers is captured on photo. But here is mine ...

My brief coup de foudre (love at first sight) ended recently after I watched my lover run his finger down the arm and thigh of another woman.

It hurt alot. Still hurts. He apologized. I forgave. But the damage is done.

No regrets, though. I learned a lot from my brief romance. And, someday, I will write more about this amazing period of growth. But not now. I am still raw and the tears won't stop.

Feeling Awesome

Today I feel my power. Today I feel my awesomeness.

This is not said in vain or narcissism.

It is the truth of my reality today.

I had a wave of realizing today how far I have come in my growth in this amazing adventure called life.

I have dared to look at my shadows, my faults, and my scars.

I continue to humbly look at my issues with fear and trust and how each of these issues contributed to the end of my marriage. It would be so much easier to blame. But I would not be growing. I would not be learning. I would not be teaching my son any lessons about love, life and the pursuit of happiness.

I have taken the time, the energy and the risks needed to examine so many, many aspects of my life. Always wanting to simply grow, to love and to make a difference in the lives of others.

Tomorrow will surely bring another challenge and yet another test to my ego, to my strength and to my issues with fears and trust but, just for today, I am relishing in my power and in my awesomeness to have come this far in my evolution.

I cry, I hurt, I pout. I smile, I laugh, I giggle. I feel grief, I feel passion and, today, I feel very proud.

This is my life and I love it.

Conversation with myself

A girl sat next to me recently and I told her to leave.

“I don’t want you here anymore,” I said.

The girl looked down. She said nothing.

“You’re going to ruin everything.” I said.

I felt my anger rising.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” I screamed. “Why can’t you just get out of my life?”

The girl looked up at me. Tears welled in her green eyes.

“I can not leave you,” she whispered. “You need me.”

I turned my head away. Guilt. Resentment. Anger. Sadness.

She is the wounded child within me.

Divorce and new love has suddenly and surprisingly thrust me back to a part of my childhood that I thought I had already processed and put behind me. I am realizing now that some issues never really go away.

I thought that ending my marriage to a verbally abusive man would put an end to my insecurities, fears and distrust. After all, if I wasn't involved with a man who demeaned me, called me names, blamed me, criticized me and defined me then I should be trusting and secure in a new relationship. Right?

Wrong. I am quickly realizing that my issues with insecurities, fears, distrust are my issues. These are issues, I believe, that started some 35 years ago when my innocence was stolen and I realized that I had no one to protect me.

No one to protect me. These words are significant as I think it is the reason that I become so guarded and mistrustful when I feel fearful of any situation that, in my injured girl stance, might lead to a betrayal of my trust and love.

“I will not allow you to be betrayed by someone you love again,” she whispers.

In moments of doubt, fear or insecurity, this little girl takes a defiant stance and begins to speak within my mind telling me that my distorted perceptions and assumptions are correct, “He doesn’t really love you.” “He is going to hurt you,” “Don’t trust him,” “Get out."

Despite years of growth and a deep down belief that I am a pretty awesome individual, in just a split second I can suddenly be flooded with self-doubt and feelings of worthlessness. This wouldn’t be too big a deal if I simply rode these moments out. But these skills of containment and detachment are skills that I am only beginning to learn.

I was abused by my father and abandoned by my mother as a child. It does not matter that there was ultimate forgiveness given by me to them. The injury is deep-seated and has left a permanent wound on my psyche.

I am only now realizing the need to expose this wound. I need to take off the bandage of self-protection and allow the unashamed healing winds of self-love to close the wound and form a scar of resilence, acceptance, and the ultimate knowledge that no one, no one has the power to reopen that wound again. No one.

And, likewise, I am only realizing now, with the end of my marriage and the hope of new love, that another person will never heal the injuries of my childhood.

Compassion, understanding and acknowledgement is all that one who loves me can give my wounded child within. Compassion for her loss and understanding that she will be with me throughout my life.

She needs to know that she is loved during those moments of insecurity and doubt but no lover, companion or friend of mine can prove thier love to the injured childen within me. Anyone who tries will only end up frustrated as her appetite for approval and love is insatiable.

I have realized this week as I continue this amazing evolution that calming her fears is my responsibility now. I am her protector. I will no longer try, consciously or unconsciously, to put that burden on a man. It is so unfair and it will ultimately doom any future relationships.

I am the only one that can give my inner self, my injured little girl, the love that she has needed since it was so abruptly taken from her some 35 years ago. ME. I will never again allow another person to abuse me. Never.

I can not fix my broken wing. I can not erase the past that has so affected my present. It is my history. I bear no shame only the desire to heal myself.

I am now visualizing again my little inner girl sitting next to me.

“I can take care of myself,” I say to her. “I am strong now.”

“No, someone will hurt you,” she says.

“Yes, someone will hurt me some day," I reply. "Someone will leave me, either by choice or by death and it will hurt very much. But I will survive. I will thrive.”

“But what will I do,” she asks. “What can I do for you if I am not your protector?”

"My sweet, little angel," I say. "You can rest, my love. I will take care of you now. I will be your protector."

And with those words, I can see the little girl within me sighing deeply, leaning her head on my shoulder, closing her eyes and finally, finally, finally sleeping.

Forgiving myself

One of the most difficult aspects of self-analysis during this divorce process is the humbling reality that I made mistakes in my marriage -- a lot of mistakes.

And the most difficult aspect of becoming aware of these mistakes is forgiving myself for them.

Thawing out

Less than a month ago, I wrote about feeling frozen in fear.

I felt overwhelmed with the sudden responsibilities of being a divorced woman with a child, a house and expenses to pay. Everything from figuring out how to pay the bills over the internet to cleaning up the dogs' shit on the side of the house felt overwhelming to me. I was so afraid, I stayed in bed.

Less than 30 days later I am proud to report that I not only got out of bed, but I have since cleaned up the dogs' shit (on a regular basis too!), changed a couple light bulbs, had a pool party for 50 people, started taking more ownership of my house, put a compassionate, loving but consequencial foot down toward my son's dispectful words ("This is MY house now and you are living under MY rules!") and, today, I am so very, very proud to say that I began tackling the finances -- organizing the records in a way that I can understand; opening my own internet bill-paying account; and starting an Excel worksheet to keep better track of the finances.

Have I made mistakes? You betcha. I have a city garbage container overflowing with trash because I forgot to roll it out to the street this week on garbage pick up day. I also broke out in tears and pathetically sobbed out my divorce situation today to a stranger on the phone when trying to elimniate a service from the cable company.

No, I have been far from perfect on this evolutionary road but I am getting stronger and I am no longer frozen in fear.