From the moment I opened my eyes this morning, I felt compelled to write. I couldn’t get out of my head for the past few weeks. I sat in my spot simmering because I knew I wouldn’t be able to move forward until I felt all the feels.
And yet, as I put my reading glasses on (because that’s a thing now), and poise myself to begin typing this is when the kids come out from the shadows. Hungry. Needing.
They aren’t so little anymore, I think as moms, we still view them as their same little faces. But…there is nothing more powerful than a mind that’s been made up.
In my last blog sooooo many weeks ago (hello life) I was about to embark on something new. Something both terrifying and exciting at the same time and I had left you in the parking lot. It’s taken me a lot to sit with these thoughts, because it’s heavy.
As I stepped onto the path, one of the women asked “what’s your goal you’re looking to get out of this?”
I said “I’ve been feeling a lot of resentment towards my ex-husband recently and I really want to know why after all this time it’s surfacing now. What’s actually bothering me.” I felt surprised that came out of my mouth, but obviously there is truly something there.
As we began, walking the pace felt fast (maybe because I had been spinning in emotions the last few hours prior). Step over step as we went down the path I had so many thoughts scanning through my head. I was glad I brought my poles, second guessing I could keep up, hoping I didn’t regret going, wondering if I the car issues had actually been trying to stop me from going – did I make the right decision?
We walked a few miles in and set up camp. I wasn’t very talkative (in the beginning and beyond). Most people don’t know this but I am truly an introvert at heart. I become and extrovert in the right company.
I don’t even know what I was thinking about – I was just…taking it all in. Really feeling the experience and wondering still, what the next day would bring. Would my phone die? What if I couldn’t take pictures? Would I have service?
We set up our tents spread out from one another, and I chose to be closer to the water. I thought the sounds would be relaxing. I’ve never done this before. I mean, I’ve gone camping – but always at a campground where there were amenities, sometimes showers even. But not like this.
We ate dinner and talked in the darkness of the night. I was still feeling a little “out of place” – but not in a negative way. We proceeded to our respective tents around 10:30pm via head lamp and I zipped myself in. I checked my phone, texted a friend a little and drifted in and out of sleep.
I’m laying here sweating after midnight needing to pee very badly and I’ll whole heartedly admit, afraid to leave my tent. I wasn’t comfortable and I knew sleep wasn’t going to happen until I was able to pee.
Who the f knows what I could encounter – and could I manage to do it without disturbing anyone around me and not per all over myself.
I mulled it over for a good while, while the need intensified. I located my flashlight, navigated to finding my shoes and was trying to blindly find the zipper to my tent, I turned the flashlight on, and looked down – there was my rock sitting right in front of me of me “faith”. I fucking got this.
I stepped outside my tent in my pants and sports bra found a close spot around the side of my tent and squatted. Holding my pants as best I could in front of me. I’ve never been so relieved.
I made my way back around my tent, zipped myself in, and felt like I conquered the first hurtle. I plugged my phone into my portable charger and went to sleep.
I’ve become such an early bird. My phone was at about 70% and the power bank was dead. Super. Nothing I can do about that now.
It’s always interesting when you’re with other people in the morning. Their habits, do they talk in the morning? Do they need a minute? I know enough to read the room and just let the others be my guide.
I’m sitting on a rock in the creek bed listening to the water. It’s chilly and beautiful and nothing feels confusing. The sun is coming up through the trees and the fog is lifting. I could sit here for hours.
We decided to stay there for a while, have coffee and breakfast and then break down camp to get moving. Once we were done all those thoughts came creeping in. Will my phone die? Will I be able to take pictures? Will I be able to keep up? How hard is this going to be?
I lost all cell reception about an hour later. Put my phone in airplane mode, for picture taking. It’s all happening FOR me. I was a little anxious at first, my connection to the world, my kids – but it was completely out of my hands.
I’ve been told before – “you don’t have to have deep conversations with everyone”. A lot of the climb there wasn’t a ton of conversation or maybe there was and I missed it over my heavy breathing. There were moments that were harder than others. Some parts where it felt like I had to pull everything I had inside me to get to the next step, but never did I think or say “I can’t do this”.
The first day, I think I proved much determination (whether I should have or not) and the second day, I think I proved strength over anything else, and I’m not referring to the physical kind. It’s mind over matter. It’s our ability to believe in ourselves. That’s what this was.
We got to our campsite and set up our tents. We swam in the river. We talked. We lit a fire right by the water. This. This is where I could’ve stayed for days. Being back in my space now, I wish I had written more in the moment like I had the first day and evening, but I kept coming up empty. Sometimes, you just need to be still.
For the past two and a half years I have been building from the rubble. I have pushed and stretched myself further than I ever could imagine. I was just enjoying the stillness, without distraction. Without text messages. Without anyone “needing” me.
When you spend a lot of time alone, it’s hard not to jump at the chance to respond immediately, well it used to be. I don’t know when the shift happened for me, but I was surely enjoying being not reachable. Connected.
Our phones hold our whole outside world, and I struggle with that, big time. It’s literally the only way for me to interact with another adult – whether you’re setting up plans or it’s a “phone friend”, cruising social media, or sharing memes with friends, responding to clients, potential clients, people you work with, or if I just want to look up the best recipe for my nine million bananas in my freezer.
To say the inability to use my phone was a blessing, was an understatement.
We woke up the last morning and it was drizzling a little bit so we took our tents down right away and spent some time connecting under a large tarp as it poured around us. I think this may have been my favorite part of the weekend.
We shared a lot, and a few tears. And I admitted that throughout the weekend I kept waiting to have this “ah ha” moment for myself, but I never did. I just felt peace. Stillness. Silence. A quiet mind (once we got going the second day).
The climb out was tough, partly because I didn’t feel ready yet, partly because it was all up hill.
Cell reception returned and I left my phone in my pocket. I had so many notifications it was overwhelming. So many text messages waiting for responses. I only addressed the couple that asked if I was still alive the day prior, and put my phone back in my pocket.
We stood in the parking lot no one making a move to say goodbye. I looked back at the trailhead really wanting to just go back in. We climbed in to Audrey’s car and she took me to mine at the shop.
I walked in the door and the same gentlemen from the Friday prior smiles and said “man, I was thinking about you all weekend. You made it!”.
I got my keys and was ready to make the long ride home. Ready for a shower. Ready for some…release of everything that I processed.
I paid my large bill, and I left. Once I hit route 80 the tears were flowing. What did all of it mean for me? What was next? I have been struggling financially since the moment my life changed six years ago. I knew when my ex-husband moved out, I was in a deficit, he did too but without taking up too much space, I decided that was my punishment. (I didn’t really realize until this moment).
Even as my business grows and I have more clients and I am helping more people than I ever have in my whole life, I still support three kids and a mortgage on my own.
We had completed our divorce ourselves; we didn’t have money for lawyers and quite honestly, I just wanted it to be over. I had sat in that space for nearly a decade, but still blaming myself for ending it. Blaming myself for not working when I did everything, I felt I could make it better.
I felt that I deserved to suffer. It was me after all, right? Even though I had asked for things to change for TEN YEARS – it was my fault. He would have let me go another ten years bending over backwards trying to make him happy and been perfectly content – he just didn’t want to be alone.
It was that drive home that I manifested some action. I decided that I didn’t deserve to struggle. That I was going to ask just for a little more child support to help alleviate the struggle. $630/month for three kids didn’t even cover groceries, I knew it would be uncomfortable. I knew what his potential comments would be (I did spend half my life with the guy). But I kept telling myself, you deserve support. You have been punishing yourself long enough.
After three hours of thought and reflection I felt pretty good about my new perspective. Forgiving myself after six years of holding the blame, the shame, and the punishment was long enough.
I pulled in the driveway and brought my stuff inside. I unloaded the extras and was delighted at the thought I still had a little time at home before the kids got home to unwind and throw in a load of laundry…and SHOWER.
I undressed and turned the shower faucet on. Icy cold.
I made my way down to the basement, and sure enough. Out of oil. I ran upstairs and put my dirty clothes back on (I do enough laundry), grabbed the diesel can and got back in the car. I knew what to do – I’m no stranger. I’ve had to get crafty over these last six years with no one to lean on.
I took a deep breath and drove to the gas station. Got my diesel and rode home feeling relief from my impending shower already!
I got home, took the can out and I could not get it uncrewed for the life of me. The guy had closed it so tight. Okay. The kids will be home in an hour or two – Matthew has bigger hands than me not to mention he’s stronger…he’ll be able to help.
We got the can open, poured in the liquid gold and I ran downstairs to restart the furnace. No dice. All I want to do is take a shower. I went to sleep.
I contacted a recommendation I was given to have someone come bleed the line so the boiler would restart. He was in Connecticut but would be by in the evening to help me out. Okay next.
I sat down and did some research and put everything down that I’ve been holding. The money, the time, the overwhelm.
I discovered what I wish I had been confident enough to realize six years ago (or any year since). When you get divorced in NJ, it’s pretty cut and dry – there’s literally a calculator you type in your income, your spouses income and the time split between you – and boom that’s your child support calculation.
When I typed in the figures from six years ago, I wanted to vomit. At the time, he made nearly three times more than me – so child support, should have been double what he has been paying for the last six years. This isn’t money for convenience, this is money for life. Food. Electricity. A roof.
I wasn’t sure if I was madder at him, for feeling okay thinking he was supporting his kids for $630/month or at myself for just letting him hold our fate in his hands. For not fighting harder for my children.
I didn’t have to suffer so hard that entire time, but I did.
I crafted an email that took every ounce of me to stand up for myself in. I addressed the money, I addressed the dog (which became my soul responsibility as soon as he moved out).
I proposed we adjust child support to what it should have been six years ago, and that we re-address every two years, and asked for him to take the dog on the weekends he has the kids so I could be free to do things without worry. I pressed send and sat simmering…for over a week without a response.
No doubt he didn’t want to part with another penny (even if it was to feed his children). But the response I got back was heartbreaking. Insult after insult. And with that, the man I had built a life with, clearly didn’t care. Did he ever? The doubt meter has gone up since receiving that email.
He would adjust to child support to what it was supposed to be six years ago, but he would not be helping with the dog (only if I were going away). He referred to my career, as “voluntary underemployment”, the tone was awful. I’m sorry I wasted so much of my life with him. This is who he really is, was, and will always be.
I owe him money that has been being deducted every year to pay him back. And when I mentioned wiping that clean in the email versus the six years of underpayment for child support, he quoted the law that says I can’t come after him for it and everything I owe him still remains. . I’m sorry I wasted so much of my life with him. This is who he really is, was, and will always be.
It reminded me of when we were married, and he would call me weird. Or criticize the things I said or did, and I just took it on. Yeah, I am weird.
I bawled my eyes out. How did I ever love this guy? He clearly, didn’t feel the same way – and I knew that. Actions speak louder than words. I went ten years asking him to kiss me, which I don’t consider a big ask. That says something.
Man. That sucked.
The woods finally allowed me to put the seal on forgiving myself for ending my marriage. For standing up for myself.
Everything I have been building has given me the confidence to finally stand up for myself. This was the only place that was left that I hadn’t. And I sure as fuck will fight for what my children need. I can’t even imagine what goes through his head as he breezes through his week, not really caring that we’re struggling. Not wanting better for your children.
And the thing is, the months leading up to this are what made me brave. Him on all of them about money, all the time. The fact that he is in fact repeating the same pattern his father did (and I can only assume still does) to him, when we were together it bothered him so much. He has literally turned into the same guy and I’m so grateful to not be with him. To not sit in that negative every day.
I don’t understand having the money and not fixing your daughter’s car so it’s safe. I don’t fucking get it. But I’ll figure out a way – because that’s what I do. I figure it out.
Once I forgave myself and stood up for myself, I felt the universe open — I signed a new client, I took a breath, I chose myself. I’ll keep building, because that’s what I do. But this time, not from a place of punishment — from a place of worthiness.
And that’s what I needed to learn all along: you don’t have to keep suffering to prove your strength. You are already strong.
And I’ll just continue building to build a better future for my children and myself. This shit is hard. And we’re in it. We’re all in it.
Thank you for listening.
XO,
Laura
