Divorce can produce feelings of fear, stress, anger, sadness and sometimes even depression. And in order to truly heal, we need to become vulnerable and reflect on what can be learned from these wounds. We should never be ashamed of owning up to our mistakes and wanting to overcome and grow from them. Brene Brown speaks truth in saying, “we’ve all fallen, and we all have skinned knees and bruised hearts to prove it. But scars are easier to talk about than they are to show, with all the remembered feelings laid bare. And rarely do we see wounds in the process of healing. I’m not sure if it’s because we feel too much shame to let anyone see a process as intimate as overcoming hurt, or if it’s because even when we muster the courage to share our still-incomplete healing, people reflexively look away.”
I find that our society wants to hear only the stories of love, happiness, and success. And who doesn’t love a beautiful story that is full of inspiration? I get it. But why are so few willing to hear the story of how you were stripped of your identity and feel naked and ashamed. Are we too caught up in our own worlds to reach out to one another? Is our pride too big to let the tears fall in front of those that do care? Where exactly do we fall short in these deep connections that we long for? Maybe we are all to blame. Join me as I make a personal vow to bare it all and hide no more.
There are days where I feel strong and have the typical Theresa mentality of, “I’ve got this.” And to be honest with you, I am tired of being that girl. It is a piece of me that played a part in my marriage failing. Yes, I will take ownership in that. One night as Jonathan and I were working out the final numbers for the divorce, we also had a moment of vulnerability. I sobbed. A lot. And as he held me, he looked me in the eyes and said, “this is what I miss. I’ve always liked you at your weakest.” Those words have haunted me. It’s true. I was always the “strong” one. I did it all on my own and never let anyone in. Not to help with the daily responsibilities of a home and family, not to comfort me, and most definitely not to see me cry. This was a turning point for me.
As I write this entry tears resurface. I am heartbroken and full of guilt, still. There are days where I am blindsided by a memory or an overwhelming rush of loneliness. And let me tell you, when these hit, I feel like I am suffocating. I struggle to find air to breathe, the strength to get out of bed, and the willpower to “get it together.” I cry out loud, knowing that it is only me that will hear my pain.
Slowing down the process and feeling what is meant to be felt is like being paralyzed in your own emotions. While at first it is terrifying and deeply painful, the overwhelming sense of personal growth and perspective, once through it, is so worth it. “People who wade in their discomfort and vulnerability and tell the truth about their stories are the real badasses,” declares Brene Brown.
I can’t encourage you enough to be bold and acknowledge your own discomfort. Acknowledge it, study it, learn from it, and then release it. Maybe it is simply journaling for your own personal healing. Maybe it is talking to a friend or professional to get it out into the open. Or maybe it is commenting on this blog or being a guest blogger. Whatever you do, do something. Be bold. Be a badass!