I am a 30 year old mom/acupuncture student/aspiring aerialist living in Portland, Oregon. I dream of living in Vermont when I graduate, with meadows and woods surrounding me, with chickens running around, and with a thriving acupuncture practice in a small town. I have two beautiful children, the sun has been shining, and I just met with my husband of six years to discuss our separation. Add /soon-to-be-divorcee to the above list.
It might sound more dramatic then it is - we've already gone through this two times before, but as they say, third time's a charm, and I am really ready to take this leap into the great unknown. I feel good, sad, but good. And it feels good to say that, to feel liberated to have my emotions, and accept them as non-linear and confusing as they are. In my marriage, it wasn't okay to be sad and happy at the same time, mostly because it wasn't okay to be sad.
It's a weird thing, learning how to look at someone and reintegrate their place in your life. I thought that today as I drove away from our meeting tat the local coffee shop and saw Mark waiting at the stoplight on his bicycle. If I hadn't been married to him, if there weren't any of the number of ways in which our lives had crossed paths earlier, what would that person mean to me standing there on the corner? Would I even notice him? And how do I learn to look at him now, and remember how things have changed? There are certain objects in our lives that we devote so much energy to that we begin to transform them through our care and attention - family heirlooms, baby books, houses. And people too, of course. I think that in all of our ups and downs, that has been something that I hadn't even realized was holding me back. I was grateful today, sitting in the car at a distance, and witnessing us as two humans going into different directions. I've needed that perspective. He's him, and I'm me, and we're both okay, we both hold our place in the world, and our paths have crossed, but we're going in different directions.
Here we go.
