Not Broken Just Bent

"You will know you are healed when you can finally tell your story without crying." I read that online so it has to be true.

All attempts to be humorous aside, I actually believe there is some truth to that statement. At least, for me anyway.

Yesterday, while luxuriating in a hot bath, I poured over past two years of my life: discovering my ex-husband's infidelity, traveling domestically and internationally (for the first time), divorcing, moving, and starting life anew here in the Queen City. I've experienced a roller coaster of emotions, that's for sure.

The biggest surprise hasn't been my strength or my resilience. I'm most surprised that I no longer get emotional thinking about the events that led up to today -- especially when thinking about my divorce. I wanted my marriage. I wanted to save it. I wanted it to work. When I realized it was actually over, I went into a season of mourning. It was like driving through a funeral procession for months -- draining, tiring, and EXHAUSTING.

I questioned my worth throughout the entire process of my divorce. I couldn't figure out what I'd done to become so unlovable. I often wondered if my then-husband had lost his attraction to me. Maybe I'd gotten too fat. Maybe my fears of miscarrying again annoyed him. Maybe I nagged too much. Maybe I didn't clean enough. Maybe I didn't praise him enough. There were a lot of maybes.

I asked myself a million questions, jumped to a million conclusions, and told myself a lot of bad things about myself. I simply had no answers -- only a mind full of cognitive distortions.

And my ex? He gave me little to work with. He tried to cover his butt by finding faux fault with me and pushing me out to sea -- out to an island of isolation and loneliness for which no spouse should ever leave their other half. I was all alone trying to put the pieces of our failing marriage together while not even understanding the puzzle. I felt life was happening to me -- attacking me.

You see, before I decided to file for divorce, he'd asked for one first. A lot of people don't know that part. For the sake of time this is how it all went down: He cheated, he lied, he carried on said lie and, as it destroyed him, he started to become distant. He pushed me away in many ways. I started to feel unwanted; unloved. His behavior changed. He became more guarded, more protective of his space which had once been ours. He seemed uncomfortable in the same room with me, he seemed uncomfortable in this life we'd built together. Confused about how we got to that point, I kept prying and trying to understand where I went wrong. I accused him of a lot of things that would later turn out to be true . And it was when I called him out with evidence, he said it. was. over. He wanted a divorce.

I struggled through the months that followed. It was the end of the 2015 and that was the hardest holiday season for me to get through. I felt like a victim. We put on a front but people could see us crumbling. It's a bump in the road, they thought. All couples go through this, they'll over come.

But, they were wrong.

I prayed like crazy in that season. I threw myself into church. I sought counseling from clergy. I tried everything until I couldn't try anymore. I cried thinking of how this would impact my step-daughters who were also living with us at the time. They day I suggested my then-husband and I tell them we would be separating, he pulled me outside to confess his sins. Then, he professed his "undying" love for me. Which was crazy to me --because he hadn't been showing it. I was heartbroken. True love, I thought, just wouldn't hurt someone like that. I, now know, people make mistakes -- and some are hard to bounce back from.

He wanted to stay married, he said. I had a lot to process but, at that time, I made the decision to stay. It was not an easy decision to make. There were sleepless nights, fights, and there was a lot of heartache to work through. Then, he lost his job, the landlord put her home on the market, and, suddenly, there were other pressing issues to face.

That was a critical time in my life. I soon discovered my ex was full of more hot air than action. I couldn't fight to save our marriage alone. So, I spent a lot of time thinking, talking to God, and in nature, seeking answers. Eventually, I discovered my marriage was over. On February 14th, 2016, I told my ex I would be filing for divorce. I remember crying all the way to church that Sunday. And crying all the way home.

I felt like a failure. I felt worthless. I didn't feel beautiful. I felt betrayed. I felt used. I felt broken.

I felt I wasn't someone worth fighting for because, if I were, he would've done so. At least, that is what I told myself. I felt I would never laugh or love again. I felt small. I felt like a piece of litter rolling along the highway, in and out of chaotic thoughts and emotions. It was a crazy time in life but, eventually, I would get a grip.

I decided to keep seeing the therapist I'd found to help save my marriage. She'd agreed to individual sessions with me and I'm so glad I took that step. She couldn't help salvage something that was already broken but she could work on what was bent --and that was me. I started to immerse myself in the love of my friends and family while working her curriculum. Remembering I'd applied for and received my passport at the end of 2015, when the divorce-storm was brewing, I decided to book a trip with some of my counselor friends to a conference in Montreal. That trip would be my first trip out of the country and represent the first of many steps I took toward rediscovering myself, my worth, and living life on my own terms in the wake of something catastrophic.

I decided to combat the figurative season of death I was in with new experiences. New life!

I decided I couldn't let the failure of my marriage define me. I couldn't let someone who didn't know how to love or respect me be the ruler by which I measured my worth. Reclaiming myself and my happiness became my goal. I'd always wanted to travel -- so I did. I snorkeled in Punta Cana and in Key West. I swam with locals in a cave in a foreign country. I rode ATVs through the Dominican countryside and high-fived an elderly man walking along a dirt road. I fell asleep under the Caribbean sky, on a balcony on an island far from home. And I appreciated spending time with myself and with people who would always love me. I played Catan on a rocky beach in the Keys while watching the sun set. I tossed my genuine heart into the universe, hoping it would come back to me like a boomerang. I did a lot of things for myself that felt good to me.

I decided to pack up and move to another state (which is something I'd let my ex talk me out of many moons prior-before we were ever married) and I discovered a renewed strength in living life on my own terms. I started to fall in love with myself again.

I had to get back to the basics. And, in doing so, I found a childlike joy, that is unconditional for myself and others. I began to understand the ways in which I wanted to be loved, receive love, and I set hard limits on the kind of love and respect I would demand from others. But, it all had to come from within first.

And, so, here I am living -- no longer bent or broken. I'm here loving myself and giving that love to people I meet along the way.

If you're reading this, I hope you remain encouraged and find inspiration in my words that hard times don't last always. New life always comes on the heels of death; rebirth occurs in the shadows of decay.

You will find yourself again, no matter what it is you are going through. I also lost my job earlier this year, walked away from a bad accident, and yet, I'm still not defeated. Things can and will turn around if you open your heart and change your perspective.

The events of my life no longer make me cry. Not because I'm impenetrable and not because I'm hardened. I no longer cry about them because I no longer see myself as a victim. These things happened, they did. And they inspire me to enjoy all that comes -- the good and the bad.

Speak life. Achieve life. Always.

-Asha