Thursday, February 20, 2014

Scars are not injuries. A scar is what makes you whole.

If you go back through my blogs to not-so-long-ago, there's a post that was written by a sad, lost, and utterly heartbroken me.  It detailed the feelings surrounding what I went through when I found out that my husband cheated on me, that things were really over between us, and I couldn't, for even a moment, bring myself to believe there was life on the other side.  I can't believe how much I've grown since that post was written just last April, but I am so, so proud of myself.

I was still reeling from the terrible feelings of my ex husband's infidelity until pretty recently, until I really stopped to think about why it still bothered me so much.  As I've said many times in my blog, and as I can only imagine I will say many, many more times, everything happens for a reason, and I stand by it.  Divorce is a nasty animal, and I wouldn't ever try to pretend that I didn't take part in the bitter, ugly slur fest that went on in my own divorce.  When you're in the depths of love, you don't picture yourself calling your husband horrible, nasty names or wishing things upon him that no one should have to hear.  And I don't think it's ever one sided - it happened to me, just like I did it back to him.  Everyone tells themselves and those around them that they'll be the ones who never face divorce, that they'll beat all odds.  And then when they are staring it in the face, their tune changes in that they'll never be the people that have a angry, difficult divorce.  It happens, and I've come to believe that it's all a part of the process of getting through it.

I forgive him for everything that happened.  I didn't think I'd ever live to see the day when I really meant that, but I do.  It doesn't matter what happened or why, just that it did, and we both survived.  Sure, we didn't survive together, but we weren't meant to, and that's okay.

When I fell in love at 15, and got married at 18, and even when I had my first child at 19, I thought I was the luckiest person in the whole world.  I was in love and our love had no boundaries.  We were perfect.  Perfect for that stage of my life.  I shrugged off the opinions of people who told me that I'd change a whole lot in my 20s and that things I desired when I was 17 (and newly engaged) wouldn't at all be things I'd want for myself when I was in my mid-20s.  If I could go back in time, I know I still wouldn't believe those people, and I'm okay with that.  I could never regret falling in love at 15, or getting married, or having two kids at such a young age, and I especially couldn't regret going through a separation at 22 and subsequent divorce at 23.  Nobody wants those things for their life, and certainly no one plans on those things happening.  But, me?  I can't imagine my life without that love, or those kids, or the traveling I did in southeast Asia because of my marriage, or the heartache I went through for so long after my marriage crumbled.  It all shaped me, made me who I am.  I'm far from perfect, and still changing as I grow, but that's who I am, and I'm pretty happy with who I see looking back at me in the mirror. 

If I had to tell my ex husband just one thing, it would be, without a doubt, 'thank you'.  Thank you for growing up with me, for taking my hand and being by my side as we guided each other through life during those eight years.  We grew apart and fell out of love, but what we did have was exactly what it was meant to be.I only hope that one day, you find love again.  I hope that you find the kind of love that shakes you from your very core, wraps you in its arms, and makes it so that everything else in your life that isn't that love, looks just a little bit blurrier.  Everyone should get to feel that kind of love in their life time.

I was nearly a child when I experienced falling in love for the first time.  I had no realistic idea of what adulthood would bring, but my first love changed me undeniably, and I learned a lot about life from it.  Now that I've fallen in love for only the second time in my life, it's unreal that it is so very different.  It makes me feel completely unlike my first love, very different, neither good nor bad, almost incomparable in fact.
At 24 years old, I look into a pair of eyes and see absolute warmth that I can't believe I ever lived without.  I can't, nor do I want to imagine my life any different from exactly how it is at this very moment.  I have two unbelievably smart, kind, beautiful children. They have not just one incredible male role model, their father, but two, to include the man I love, who has nearly submerged himself in the 'stepparent' role.  My children get to look up to two successful, respectable, kind, and loving men, and I think they're pretty lucky for that.  I hope that one day, they'll see their daddy fall in love like they've seen their mommy, and life for them will just be normal having two sets of parents.