Category: Empowered Female Warriors!

Accepting the Unacceptable

Accepting the Unacceptable

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I went over to my mom’s house the other day. She has a new computer and didn’t care for the default settings in her Word documents. I took about five minutes and set everything in a manner that worked better for her…and then realized I have never done this basic and simple thing for myself. For years and years, when I opened a Word document (which happens numerous times a day), I have automatically gone through the motions to change the font and spacing.

Why? Why did I do something so easily for my mom that I have failed to do for myself.

Because for such a long time I lived in a marriage which gave me nothing. And I taught myself that it is okay to accept the unacceptable. It is okay to give, and give, and give and show up with my A-game year after year to only receive leftover scraps of nothing in return. To endlessly cater to another’s demanded needs when that person had no care for mine whatsoever. Without knowing it, I deeply embraced the message that I wasn’t worth being happy. That if a situation wasn’t okay, I had to simply endure it. That I had no choice but to hang on in a relationship that was sucking my soul dry. That message has been so ingrained in my mind through years of emotional abuse, that I have been incapable of feeling worthy of something as basic as changing my Word settings such that they work better for me. I could do this action so happily for someone else, but not for myself.

When I moved into my new place, I felt frozen every time I thought about hanging artwork and making my house into a home. As I examined why this was going on, I realized a part of it was overwhelm, but a great majority of my hesitation was because I had a deep-seated belief that I don’t have the power to change things I don’t like. I believed somehow that if there is anything in my life I am unhappy with, I am stuck with it…kind of like I was in my marriage for so long.

No more! So I picked up a hammer and some nails and I started pounding holes into my walls. If the pictures don’t work and the wall is dinged up, that can be fixed. Because I have the power to rectify that which does not work for me. I have the power to do whatever I need to do to make my life comfortable and happy. I’m worth it…every human is worth it.

I don’t always love the journey of recovery I am on, but sometimes it yields these incredible gems of truth. It helps me to embrace mental blocks which have held me back for far too long. I never will allow myself to wallow in that mental headspace again where I believe I am incapable of changing the things that are not acceptable in my life. Hello, sweet freedom!

Oh, and yeah, my Word setting are all fixed now too…

The Power of Transformation

The Power of Transformation

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After it became clear I would need to end my decades-long marriage, the question of what to with the relics of that union plagued my already shattered heart. At that point, I also began to sense that I would eventually need to move. My wedding dress had been wrapped and living in the corner of an unused closet for many years. The idea of moving it to a new home, where I hoped for a fresh start, disturbed me on many levels. Because every time I saw it, I thought about that innocent, young bride…me. She was so happy and in love. She felt honored that she had found a man who would cherish her, despite her flaws. She felt thrilled that she was going to enter into the covenant of marriage which would endure for the rest of her life and into the eternities. She searched long and hard for the perfect gown—a physical representation of all of those dreams.

You’ll note that I shifted into third person when writing the last few sentences. That is because that hopeful young woman I once was feels so different from the battle-weary woman I am today. Those dreams I cherished at that time were systematically destroyed over years of deceit, betrayal, and cruelty. It is hard for me to connect in with my twenty-two-year-old self, and I often think of me at that time as another person.

I was led to an organization who took wedding gowns and turned them into burial clothing for stillborn babies through a casual conversation with a business connection. And, no, I don’t believe in randomness or coincidence. I believe in guidance and connection into a power much greater than ourselves. This felt so right, that my dress would have a purpose. But, I hesitated, because I didn’t want to get rid of my dress if my daughters wanted it for any reason. Eventually, we were able to have a conversation and there was zero sentimentality around anything to do with my wedding. My daughters agreed with my decision that it would be best to donate it to help others. My dress was lovingly made into several items of burial clothing to be donated to suffering and unprepared families. Knowing that something which once meant so much to me could be repurposed into items that perhaps might offer a bit of peace in another’s time of deep grief was healing. I also don’t think it’s a coincidence that the seamstress made one of the gowns pink, my favorite color.

This small event has become a very symbolic one for me. It shows me the power and capacity of human transformation. That we can put away the past and use whatever we gained from that time to assist ourselves and others to forge ahead in unexpected way. I never would have imagined I would end up in the place I find myself today. Yet, here I am. I’m trying my best to repurpose. It is my deep desire to help women have been injured through betrayal trauma understand how valuable they are and that through much pain and work, they are going to get better. How can I help you in your transformation?

It’s Not Fair!

It’s Not Fair!

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As I have increased my volunteer work as a betrayal trauma mentor, I frequently hear reoccurring themes between my groups and in my one-on-one meetings. When a message keeps coming up over and over again, I feel it is something I need to pay attention to and perhaps publicly address. For the past several weeks, one message has risen above all the others: it’s not fair.

The main idea that seems to be floating out there is that it’s not fair that women who only want to be a wife and mother now find themselves in the situation of seeking work in a glutted and depressed job market. These women were assured by their husbands that they would be supported in leaving behind their careers and attending to their families full-time. This aspect of betrayal trauma is particularly compelling because often these same women put their husband’s through school, neglecting their own education and career aspirations in anticipation of their protected role as wife and mother. This is such a difficult scenario and I am deeply sorry if it is where you find yourself.

I have been struggling with multiple “it’s not fair” complaints of late. Indeed, one of the reasons I have neglected this blog for a few months was because I felt weighed down by all the ideas of what is not fair in my life and I even dabbled for a time in bitterness. I believe that if I am going to speak out, I need to honor my feelings, but also be a place where people can come to glimpse an offer of hope for their future. These past few months, I have not felt capable of those dual roles. I chose silence as the best course of action.

My “it’s not fair” is very compelling to me at this time. It involves my housing security. One value my ex-husband and I shared was the importance of being debt-free. So, when others of our acquaintance were buying boats or adding theater rooms, we scrimped and saved and paid off our home. That indeed was a glorious day. But now, I have to pay my ex-husband his portion of equity in that very house we worked so hard to have as our own.

Back in January, I had a real estate agent come over to give me an idea of my options. As I sat and listened to him explain the lack of inventory in my housing market and how deeply in debt I would need to go into to buy my own, paid off home, I had a full-on PTSD reaction to this news. It is incredibly unfair for me to have to start again in order to stay in a place I live today debt-free just because my ex chose to follow a life course that was contrary to my values. Particularly now when my business had been greatly impacted by COVID and I have no idea what my financial horizons hold.

I needed to sit with this for a time and really honor how painful this feels and how difficult the future will most likely be. I felt weary while contemplating the years of struggle behind and those inevitably to come. Instead of saving robustly for retirement as I planned in this season of my life, I am going to be forced to take out a mortgage again. I’m not ashamed to admit that I dwelled in a pity-party land for several months. I spent many a night crying in my bed about the lack of justice in this situation. Where was my recompense for always attempting to do what was right by my marriage? I have turned my face up to the heavens and said, “Haven’t I suffered enough? When will it be ever enough?!” As if the number of trails I need to live through in this life were pre-set and I feel justified complaining that I’ve met my quota.

But life doesn’t work that way. Our mortal existence is beautiful, but it is also designed to be an experience that engenders growth. It’s not like we suddenly hit the pain-threshold lottery and a game show announcer voice booms, “Congratulations, Azalee! You have passed through your required grief portal and now you will be rewarded with an all-expenses paid vacation to Hawaii!”

Last week, I finally tired of being around myself. I was an onerous companion. One morning, I woke up and said out loud, “Enough!” Though I was proud of myself for leaning into my feelings instead of dismissing them as stupid or irrelevant (what I did for years), it was time to move on. I needed to go back to my basic values. I believe with utmost certainty that Heavenly Father is a compensatory God. I know that he is aware of how frightened and distressed I am. I’m working my hardest to make things right, and I know he will help me to make this all be okay in the end.

Even though I trust completely in my Heavenly Father, this does not mean that my fear vanishes. I remain quite terrified of the future and some days it threatens to overwhelm me. But, I have chosen to change my head-speak message. Knowing that I will be guided and led, I now think for the first time in my life, I get to pay off my own home and be able to say that I am a kick-butt single mom who made it through her own faith, hard work, grit, and determination. My grandmother was a single mom in an era where women simply endured dysfunctional relationships. Throughout her entire life, she was proud of the fact that she had worked hard and paid for her own home. Now, I get to channel and take courage from the difficult lives my ancestors lived. I will live and learn what my grandmother experienced.

I bet you have several things at the top of your mind that could fit into the “it’s not fair” category. There is nothing fair about being betrayed by the person you loved and trusted most in the world. But, is there a way you can honor those feelings, but also change the message in your own mind – and truly own that new message? Yes, it’s not fair. However, spending an inordinate amount of time dwelling on injustice will never change the facts. It will simply rob you of the joy that is available to all of us every day of our lives.

I Choose

I Choose

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Every day, my life as a single mom is tough.

Every. Single. Day.

Let me give an example. I live in Northern Utah. As this year’s snow season started, we wondered when we should put on our snow tires. This is an event we dread and avoid as long as possible. Not only due to the expense, but because it makes the cars run rougher and louder. At the end of October, I was scheduled to fly to Los Angeles to attend a client open house. The night before I was set to leave, a winter storm warning was issued. My kids were worried and upset because we still had not put on the tires and things appeared as if they were going to be messy and dangerous. Their worry and fear led to, of course, my worry and fear. I laid awake all night wondering what to do and chastising myself for not having the foresight to put on the snow tires earlier in the year. Now, I had a plane to catch in the morning and no recourse. Finally, I came up with a solution. I got up while the night still slept, loaded the tires in the separate cars, took a shower, and was parked at the tire shop the moment they opened. I explained my dilemma: I had three cars that needed snow tires put on in a few hours. They said they could help. Then I said, “K, um, I have a plane to catch, so I’m going to be doing my hair in your bathroom.” The guy laughed…but then he saw I was serious. And so it went. In between sessions of driving to drop off and deliver cars, I curled my hair in a public bathroom. Yes, it was awkward and embarrassing, but what choice did I have? I made it to the plane okay, and the kids were able to travel to work and school safely. But long about the time when I was supposed to be chipper and upright for the client open house that evening, I was crashing in a big way from my lack of sleep and early morning activities.

It’s the life of a single mom. Maybe if you are reading this you understand. I’ve got to earn a living and I’ve got to keep my kids safe. Somehow, I also am supposed to run a house, keep up the yard, hold a church calling, and delve into recovery self-care.

Yeah, I’m not keeping up.

I own my own business, which is capricious to the tidal shifts of the economy. It is true feast and famine and I never know which environment I will be operating in on any given day. It’s scary not to have a financial safety net of benefits and a steady paycheck. My worry for my kids never ceases. Whether quiet or vocal, I have serious concerns about how they will ever come to terms with what happened with their dad. My house is always a disaster—ranging in status from erupting whirlpool of chaos to World War III ground zero. When I take care of one thing, two other equally important things plop themselves unbidden onto my never-ending to-do list. It just doesn’t end…ever.

Every once in a while, particularly when I am tired or overwhelmed, I wonder why I decided to end my marriage. Why I would choose a life of stress and tumult over my old life where at least I had financial security and someone who mowed the lawn.

Then I take a deep breath. I remind myself that I made an impossibly hard choice for the happiness of myself and my children. I am a warrior-mommy. There is no doubt in my mind that even my most difficult day as a single woman is infinitely better than any day with my ex-husband. Because now I choose.

-I choose spiritual health and safety. Today, I live in a home where the spirit of my heavenly father soars unconstrained. There is  no one here covertly watching or participating in behavior that is in opposition to the vows we made at marriage. No one shares the same walls with me who is breaking covenants with intent. The adversary no longer is allowed free reign in my home.

-I choose love unfeigned. I now only have relationships with ethical individuals who do not live false lives. People who share my values. I don’t have to live with a man who is not worthy to be my husband and who doesn’t try, even as years pass where I yearn and beg for him to be the man I hoped he would be. I am better off with the difficult days rather than spending time with someone who does not even attempt to understand my physical and emotional needs. I now nurture myself.

-I choose peace. I don’t have to look over my shoulder every waking moment, anticipating when the dam of secrets will break open. Wondering—really knowing—that my worst nightmare is going to come true. It has already happened. It’s over. I can focus on healing myself and my children. I am free from terrifying discoveries always lurking around the corners to blow up in my face.

-I choose freedom. Yes, I am ridiculously busy. But I now unabashedly spend the limited free time I have in self-care and chasing the dreams I desire for my life. I don’t have to cater to the needs of a man who selfishly takes and takes and takes yet has nothing to give.

I read a statement recently that said something to the effect that loneliness is not a physical state, it is about the quality of your relationships and getting out of them what you want and need. I love this definition because it confirms what my instincts have been telling me all along: I am actually less lonely now that I am divorced.

I embrace each and every day of my messy, lonely, stressful life. Because I choose to.

You Hang in There

You Hang in There

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One of the surprising aspects of being a divorced woman is the amazing people I meet and talk to as I go about the business of changing my life. As I shift names on credit cards and other personal details, I spend a lot of time telling a lot of strangers about what is going on in my life. And here’s the weird thing: most of them have gone through it too. As a whole, I have found these individuals to be infinitely kind, patient, and willing to help.

The other day, I called up the credit card company to get my name changed. When the customer service representative asked me for the reason why and I explained, she said in a lilting Southern cadence, “I know what you are going through, when I went through my divorce, I got down to 82 pounds.”

As we concluded the call she said, “Now, Miss Azalee, you hang in there. Things are going to get better.”

I wished I could record her affirming voice, filling in the names of all the ladies I know who are traversing the living hell of ending a marriage and navigating the unbearable pain of betrayal trauma. So, I’m going to say what that sweet lady said: you hang in there. Things are going to get better. You are going to heal.

I am fascinated by the picture that I have used to head this post. The woman appears to sit on a swing over a chasm. Yet, she doesn’t give off the sense that she is desperate or unsure. She’s got her hands on a safe surface, but she’s not gripping in panicked desperation. Though it seems she is perched over an abyss, there is a confident command in her posture.

She’s hanging in there.

We may be hovering over own personal abyss. One that was not of our making or choosing. I would have given anything to save my marriage and keep my family together. The tumult of an unknown future may be all that we can see when we look forward. But we can face this with quiet confidence–because we’ve got this. Many of us haven’t been given any other choice.

We’re going to hang in there. We are going to trust that a loving Heavenly Father knows us and is in charge. Always. Forever.

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