This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

I read a book a couple days ago that made me confront some very difficult feelings within myself.  The Parable of the Mustard Seed by Lisa Henry isn't a parallel of my life, but there were questions in it like why, at what point is it enough, and where is my happiness.  There were scenes that were straight out of my most treasured dreams that were shattered by someone's selfishness and the surprisingly inevitable end of a lifelong commitment.  Nothing in life has truly been easy for me except for love, obviously not my love life, but my ability to love.

I like myself, I love my children beyond imagining, I love God...will there ever be someone who will love me as wholly as I could love them?  That's kind of what I'm struggling with right now.  It seems so superficial with everything that's going on in the world and for that I feel a modicum of shame.  But just a tiny bit.  I had a bad afternoon and that was the focus of my emotions and I refuse to belittle what I feel because it's valid.  I'm valid.  What I hope for is valid.

So now on to the maudlin, the bitter, the sad...

Why couldn't my marriage work?

In general, I get why Jordan and I didn't work out, but what am I needing to learn from the one thing I yearned for in all my life being taken away?

In Mustard Seed there's a scene with a husband who actually suggests more kids in the midst of dealing with teething at its very worst.  It was supposed to be humorous...I cried nearly as much as when Jordan told me we were really done.

My heart wasn't made to be alone.  I have my kids to love and adore and be frustrated by, but for someone to care for my heart...that's missing from my life and it hurts.  It physically hurts to be confronted with the fact that I just wasn't enough for someone I committed my life to.  That's not a reflection of my worth, I don't take that on myself, it's that everything that I am, the person I've forged through all manner of experiences good and bad, that person who gave all of herself with complete trust was denied and rejected by the person she trusted to care.

All the thoughts of things not being fair really hit me hard.  I know, I know, life isn't fair.  I get it.  Trust me, I do.  And I know, deeply, that God works in us and prunes us through trials.  It doesn't mean I can't occasionally bemoan that life isn't fair when all I want is love.  I'm only human.  And yes, I totally get that that's an unChristlike justification that I'll need to change if I want true peace, but my trial isn't over and all I can say at this point is I'm trying.  No guilt, no shame in that, I'm struggling and that's okay.  I'll make it through.

So maybe it's because of all this self-isolation, maybe it's that cyclical grief that's come knocking again...whatever it is, it sucks and it's just not fair.

I mean, I survived being molested as a child, boarding school at 12, being teased constantly as a preteen, serving a Mormon mission, college in Utah where my version of Mormonism wasn't always a shared view, following Jordan to a country where I had literally one friend, no family, a province with no oceans, and now a city with zero verdant forests.  I was willing to separate myself from everything that made me happy outside of my life with Jordan and the prospect of kids.  And now I get to be a single mom, still without all that other stuff, and also without the partner that made leaving all that other stuff bearable.

I'm tired, disappointed, resentful, and just so lonely sometimes.

I shove that away to try to be a good mom.  My kids are truly my life and I don't consider it a hardship to put them first.  So when the girls go see Jordan I escape into books and movies and I see a friend for a day to do "normal" people things and pretend like I'm not really a hermit.  But mostly, I think I pretend I'm not lonely even to myself because I'm trying to fake that until it's real.

The truth is, I want happiness to find me.  I fully acknowledge that you're supposed to go after it yourself and to choose it, but at this moment, I just don't care.  I'm too tired to care that happiness is supposed to be within my own power to grasp and too emotionally tired to do the work.

How's that for maudlin, bitter, and sad?

On a positive note, I made a killer baked potato for dinner and I go pick up my girls tomorrow so I can continue embarrassing myself with a hula hoop because my 7 year old is a pro and I'm ...not.

Yeah...so...where have I been?

So...I've been gone and not posting.  That's actually not much of a surprise, blogging about my personal life has taken a back seat to...well, life.  I read and review books on Megan's Media Melange (yes, I like alliteration, what of it?) and the subject of this post is affecting everything I used to do out of joy.  When you think you need to escape into books but all the books you read remind you of what you've lost, what you don't have, what you should have had, it's hard to be objective.  I love reading and I love reviewing and even though I don't have many followers at all, I still do it.  I'll get back to it, I'm just struggling.  So why have I been absent?  Why the drama?  Something happened in my life that I never thought would happen to me...

My husband is divorcing me.

A decade and two kids in and what I thought I was building has met an earthquake of epic proportions.  Without getting into detail, our marriage is over for various predictable reasons and whatever you're thinking, you're likely either right or pretty damn close.  The major reason being that we're just not compatible any longer.  It's a gross understatement for the emotional upheaval I've felt over the past year plus, but it's the very simplest way of describing what happened with us.  It didn't begin as a mutual decision, but it became one once I realized that you can't beg someone to love you if they don't and won't.  I'm just not the person he wants.

Thank you, Adele, #truth

Knowing what I know now if I could go back to the start, would I have chosen him?  Yeah.  I knew who he was and who he could be, not someone different, not some idealized perception of his potential, just who he would be as he grew and changed through life, flaws and all.  I knew that his strengths were the opposite of my weaknesses and he helped me grow and improve.  His faults were acceptable to me because no one is perfect, least of all me, and I thought he felt the same way.  I don't find it naive in any way to get married young if you know what you're getting into and know that life breeds change.  If you're invested and choose to grow with and alongside someone, there's nothing to say that just because change happens that what you committed to in the beginning won't work later.

Could I have done more to make my marriage work?  Yeah, I mean, there's always something you can do and to show your partner you're invested and willing to work through issues.  But honestly, it comes down to the fact that he just wanted someone else, someone I wasn't nor would ever be.  If he had known who he was and what he truly wanted and what he was really about back when we first got together, I really believe he never would have chosen me.  Sucks, but it's true.

So now I get to piece my life together into a whole new puzzle.  I definitely have hope for the future, my future.  Being pretty much alone in a country where you have close to no one is rough, not gonna lie, but by making a concerted effort to build my own community here I have a chance to create something all my own and I'm looking forward to it.  I fear it, but I'm also determined to not let that fear stop me from finding myself here.

Do I know where I'm going (metaphorically speaking) or what I'm doing?  Hell no.  Am I up for the challenge?  Hell yes.  I'm by no means comfortable with my situation, but isn't that when we grow the most?  I'm sure hoping so.  I've got two fan-freaking-tastic children to care for and help to become awesome humans so now I get to add my own evolution to the never-ending to-do list that comes with adulting.  It'll be a trip, that's for sure.

Here's to hoping...

Life isn't easy, it's definitely not predictable, and it's too short to remain unhappy.  What was a devastating shock is something I'm determined to turn into a personal stepping stone to my best self.  Is there any other way to see it?  What can I say, I'm a realistic optimist.  I do what I want, and what I want is to be happy.  I'll find my happiness and I'll just have to trust that life will find a way to remind me that my new dream is out there somewhere.

Everyday seems a little longer, Every way love's a little stronger...

Life is seriously like a roller coaster.

I was supposed to be in Japan this month...supposed to be. I wanted so much to be there and made lots of plans with my friends there and was so excited to revisit places I really love while there. My daughter is now running around, knows all her letters and colors and lots of numbers too, so I was hoping to "show off" to my friends who only saw the beginnings of her awesomeness.

As is obvious at this point, I'm not in Japan. I'm at my parents' house in the States. Why? My father died. It was way sooner than any of us thought it would be. He was 78 and his health wasn't great, so it's not entirely unexpected, but he had recently been making some serious improvements and was in great spirits. Despite all of that, his number was called.

I got to see him one last time before we signed the papers for cremation and he looked almost the same as always. I completely expected him to take a semi-startled breath as he woke up to find us in the room with him. He would say, "Oh, hi!" like always and we would give him a big hug, grateful to have a chance to visit and talk story. That didn't happen. He stayed on the table, cool to the touch despite the blanket they covered him with. No wide smile, no arms wide for his tight hugs that made you feel small and safe, no warm voice assuring you of your solid place in his thoughts and heart.

For the first time since hearing of his passing, I cried. Not even the words, "Your father has died" stirred tears of sadness, it was the final realization that the body I was looking at was no longer my father. It was a shell of someone who loved me more than I had ever loved anyone else in my life before. Only after I got married and had my own child could I begin to fathom the love he had for me. This man taught me about love, forgiveness, and the joy that comes from family and food. All my life he has been my father and friend.

As my family attempts to sort through their feelings and grieve in our own way, I find myself put in the position of mediator and pillar. We all have our own strengths and both of those are mine during crises, but I can't say that they are my strengths for very long. Sometimes I feel as if others see me as unfeeling and callous toward the suffering of others, but I can't help it if I cry very few times and attempt to get all the necessaries taken care of before I finally feel the weight of my emotions. I cried when I saw my father for the last time, and haven't cried again since then...that was two weeks ago. I'm okay with that.

Two weeks have passed since I heard the news and already life seems to be moving on. Nothing has come to a screeching hault, the sun still rises, and the dog still needs to be fed and walked.

Life is different. Things change. Home is still home. Love is still strong.