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.

Frozen in Fear

Today, I feel frozen in fear.

I am feeling overwhelmed with the responsibilities that lay before me. I am scared of failing. I find myself refusing to take the first step in any direction because I don't know which way to go. I feel like a failure today because I am not keeping it all together. I am ashamed of my weakness.

Sometimes, I need help. But I am afraid to ask for help. I am afraid I will appear too needy. My friends will tire of my neediness. Besides, what help can others give me? This is my own process. These are my own tears, my own anguish, my own fears, my own fucking grief.

I am afraid that I will drive people away with my pain. People prefer the smiling and strong Kim. They like the powerful, carefree and spirited Kim. Not the Kim who sits here on this unmade bed crying with each letter that she types. This Kim that is too weak and too frightened to get out of her goddamn house.

Who have I become? Who is this weak, scared woman. Go away. Go away. Go away. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this.

How long will the burning in my heart lasts? How long will I feel confused and frightened? Will I ever be consistently happy? Will I ever be solidified in my love for another? Or will I always have doubt? Will I ever find lasting, daily peace and love? Am I asking too much from myself and from life?

I should be outside sweeping the back patio and preparing it for summer. I should be on my way to the hospital to volunteer in the NICU (something that I have enjoyed doing for more than a year now); I should finish the divorce paperwork. I should clean my house, sweep the floor, take a shower, put the laundry away, mop the floor, look for a job, clean up the dog shit on the side of the house, open my own checking account, plant the packets of sunflower seeds that I bought a couple days ago. But I am overwelmed.

And I am so deeply ashamed of my weakness that I am doing nothing. I am embarrassed that I am sitting in my bedroom and crying. My friends and family think I am busy, busy, busy. I am alone. I am afraid.

I am now feeling an urge to push back... to push away those who love me because I am ashamed. I don't want to but if I lean on them too much they will eventually tire and turn their backs on me. And that will hurt. So, I want to isolate myself. But I know I can't do that for long. I need people. I have good friends who care. It is just so hard to be so confused, so vunerable, so easily crackable.

I don't want anyone to know how scared I am inside.

I am sobbing as I write this and wondering what people would think if they saw me so weak.

The Evolution Begins

I am no longer standing at a crossroads. I've made my decision. And I am scared.

It is a surreal experience to end a marriage. From the moment I realized that I could no longer live with and love the man I've known for 16 years, I suddenly began free floating in uncertainty, fear and confusion.

I say "suddenly" but the reality of making a decision to leave a marriage is rarely ever "sudden" -- it was an excruciatingly slow process for me -- a process filled with years of deep denial, as well as unmistakable moments of awareness. It has been a long process of conscious acts of avoidance and, finally, slow steps toward the ultimate truth.

I am standing at the start of a rocky path of which I see no end. No light at the end of the tunnel. I need to take the first step, but I am scared. The path is straight but the landmines are hidden. Ambivalence seems to be my only companion right now:

"Are you sure you are doing the right thing?" she asks as we stare down the mysterious path.

"Go away," I tell her.

"But are you sure?" she persists.

"Yes, I am sure." I say. "He will not change."

"Are you sure?"

I turn to her -- this figure of my doubt and uncertainties -- and I ask: "Will I ever be sure?"

We turn our attention to the path ahead.

"I don't know," she says.

I am scared as I begin this journey -- this evolution of my spirit. I don't want to walk alone -- to hesistently shuffle around jagged stones and hidden pieces of broken glass -- as my inner voice questions each of my steps.

Be my companion on this journey. Let me know that I am not alone.

At this moment, I can not see the end of this path and I can only hope that some day I will see light.

K