Tag: healing

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?

Staying in My Lane

Staying in My Lane

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Once upon a time, I used to go swimming on a weekly basis. Swimming is a tough workout, but since you are in the water, it is a surprisingly calming, womb-like experience. I’d get up early, jump in the pool, and start my day by logging in some laps. Fantastic. As I cruised back and forth across the pool, I’d think and dream about my life and everything would be going along, well, quite swimmingly. But then, sometimes I’d notice someone else in another lane. They’d invariably be swimming so much faster than me or their form was much better than mine. When I started to pay attention to my neighbors and stopped focusing on my own personal time in the pool, stuff happened. Like me colliding into the lane markers (which really hurts!) or crashing into the wall. Focusing on others had a way of ruining my otherwise peaceful time exercising.

Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve been getting some pretty strong messages that I need to remember to stay in my own lane.  The lane of where I choose to focus my head and heart, that is. The place where I embrace that I am an empowered survivor. The beautiful, freeing space where I own my happiness. Because, for many compelling reasons, I forgot about that for a minute. I’ve been worried about the manipulation my ex is inflicting on others. I’ve been preoccupied by who he’s going to hurt. I’ve been stewing a whole lot about how I can’t foresee and control my future.

Frankly, I’ve been miserable.

The other day I was in a class and we read 2 Nephi 10:23 “Therefore, cheer up your hearts, and remember that ye are free to act for yourselves…” Okay! Thanks for the reminder Heavenly Father, I sure did need it!

Make no mistake, I’m no Pollyanna. This is not to say that we don’t recognize abuse. No, ma’am. When my ex is pulling his manipulative tricks, l actively refute his nonsense with retorts such as, “Nope, that’s not true. That’s gaslighting.” Or, “Not playing the blame game with you today.” It’s important for me to name the emotionally abusive behavior. I find by doing that, I can honor my feelings and not just stuff them inside of myself like I did for oh so many years.  It is a trial being married to or divorced from a partner who purposefully throws attention away from him/herself by blaming or projecting their sins on to others. I choose to recognize that, honor my feelings in response, and stay in my own ever-loving lane! I spent most of my adult life trying to change my ex-husband. He is not going to change. But I can.

We can enjoy abundant peace when we work on our own healing and our own self-care. I can’t control the future and what my ex does to others. I wish I could have more power, but I don’t. I do have power to exercise agency in my life and my recovery. This is a difficult road, but I have a lot to be grateful for. Instead of wallowing in abject misery, I’ve decided to actively watch for the miracles in my life. I’ll be happy to report on those soon. I’ve purposefully pulled myself back from the ledge of victim mentality and life is an altogether sunnier place. Still tough? You bet. But I’m managing it better while focused on me, not on those other swimmers in the parallel lanes of my life.

How are you staying in your own lane during your recovery?

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.

Save Yourself

Save Yourself

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I have the great honor to volunteer as a betrayal trauma mentor. One of the common themes which comes up in our discussions is the wish that we could save the future romantic “victims” of our ex-spouses. I feel so blessed to work with incredibly amazing women. Their capacity to love and feel concern for others touches me continually. Even though they are barely figuring out how to survive themselves, they are worried about another daughter of God.

I too used to suffer with this need to rescue. Okay, let’s be honest, sometimes I still do. My ex-husband moved on from his relationship with me at lightning speed. Of course, it was easy for him because he never was faithful and he never felt emotions of true love for me. He had two new girlfriends before he had even moved out of our home and after he had promised to be faithful.

One of those relationships stuck and he was discussing his potential engagement two weeks after our divorce finalized. I was absolutely paralyzed with worry for this woman and her teenage daughter. I wanted to warn her! Help her to see! Save her! My mind churned with what I could do to get this innocent woman away from Cory.

Well, that relationship petered out, probably when she found out he had been lying to her all along, but then the next woman came along. Immediately. And my worry began to churn anew. One day, this new girlfriend reached out to me. I’ll admit, I was initially freaked out, but then I felt a surge of hope. Finally! A real opportunity to save a woman and her children from my ex!

Well, guess what? I was vulnerable and transparent, telling her a LOT of information. Details that she could not deny were true and should have sent her running for the hills. This woman also has teenage daughters (do you see a theme here?) and when I could not appeal to her own personal safety and worthiness for better, I appealed to her as a mother for her children’s safety.

And it backfired in a big way.

I don’t know what my ex is telling her, but she just wanted more and more “proof” that what I said was true. Finally, though devastating, I cut off contact with this woman because engaging with her was not emotionally healthy for me.

This girlfriend recently became engaged to my ex-husband. It makes me sick to think of what will happen to her and her children. I lose sleep over it. However, my experience with her taught me a valuable and needed lesson: I can’t save anyone but myself. As people who are trying to live the best life we can after divorce, we have a natural desire to help. However, some people are not emotionally healthy enough to receive our assistance. Perhaps, as in my case, the ex is a brilliant narcissist who plays the role of “good guy” so well that he could win an Academy Award. I am not match for his cunning deceit. I don’t want to try to be. I suppose I can see why she would believe him over me.

I realized the worry for this woman was hijacking my thought processes and emotional well-being. It was circumventing my own necessary efforts at healing. As a result, I went to the temple, the place I go with all of my problems. After a session, I spent considerable time in the Celestial Room. I told Heavenly Father I was turning this woman and her children over to Him. I needed to mentally walk away. After, I put her name on the prayer roll and I said out loud, “It is finished.”

Heavenly Father is in charge. He loves every single one of us, even our deeply misguided ex-spouses. I don’t know why He doesn’t stop my ex from hurting others. However, I do believe the principle of agency must be allowed to follow its natural course. When given a chance, I attempted to save this woman. Oh, how desperately I wanted to save her! But ultimately, I learned I can only save myself. This is something I have to remind myself of, at times, on a daily basis. I hope that as you navigate your journey you too can remember that the only person you can save is yourself. You alone are worth that time and energy.

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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