Learning to Breathe Again

It’s been 1 year, 2 months and 22 days since I last blogged. With each passing day, each struggle for change and every victory achieved, it has seemingly gotten harder and harder to think of a way to share my journey.  In that time, my life has dramatically shifted. In that time I have endured more than even I could recount or would ever want to re-live; and yet I stand here as a happier more whole person than I ever knew I could be.   

Countless people have encouraged me to share where we were at.  On days I was struggling I was angry for this nudge to voluntarily lay out for the world my journey.  I would think, “how dare you get some great thrill from my struggle.”  On days that I was feeling hopeful for my future and proud of the person I was becoming I would think, “Man, it’s great to be cared about enough that people wonder how we are holding up.”   Some days I worried I’d share too much, be too real, not real enough, etc. and in turn I was left without writing a word and further from a way I could jump right back on the band wagon of blogging.  The reality is, time has passed, my family has changed and my life has not stood still so maybe their isn’t a tactful way to update y’all.  Maybe its going to be choppy and lots of pieces will be missing.  The truth is, I miss blogging and I’m tired of fearing the whole question of where to start, so I’m diving in.  

I read a book years ago, “Learning to Breathe Again”, by Tammy Trent.  That book changed my life.  I don’t remember why I read it or even what message I got out of it at the time, but I know that countless times throughout the years I’ve referred to that book and recommended it often. Many times through my divorce I felt like breathing was a chore, something to be focused on if I wanted it to happen at all.  They say divorce is much like death, you go through the same stages of recovery.  As I look back in my journal I recognize each stage, I was a text book case to say the least.  Some stages I breezed through and other stages I got stuck and stayed for far too long.  With all recovery, the length of stay in each stage varies from person to person.  The best thing is, eventually you recover.  Eventually you decide you are willing to breathe again.  

I didn’t just recover.  As a matter of fact, I had a STRONG recommendation from my bestie, Pam  (who was way over my crying fits at all hours of the day and night)  to go to a divorce recovery class.  Actually, I ended up going because I thought I was ready to start dating and I thought maybe I would find some other thirty-something who was starting over and we could just do it together.  Unfortunately, on my first night of my 15 week class I signed an agreement to not date anyone in class until all 15 weeks were complete.  Not only that, but the class was a majority of women and a handful of men who were much more “mature” than I am (I do love these guys so just in case they read this I have to be a little bit gentle in my approach to the fact that they were all OLD and could be my dad!) In that 15 weeks I learned to love each person in my group.  All of us were in different places.  All of us were very different people.  All of us shared this one common thread, though and we bonded. Fortunately for me, as I sobbed over horror stories of custody battles, visited the delivery room of a baby born to an already broken family, agonized over betrayal, and sat speechless on many occasions; I realized that I could have it much worse.  I am positive I have not ever told any one of them how much I needed them, but all of them played a major role in my survival.  Eventually breathing started to be a little easier.

When you don’t frequent bars, have six kids and a desk job; finding a date is a little tricky.  I wanted to date. I feared being that single mom forever and raising kids and having no one to share my life with once they left.  I really did have nightmares that, behind my back, my kids would each pick a day of the week where they “had” to visit me so I wouldn’t be alone.  I imagined them dreading this obligation. In the dreams I actually had cats- which made my nightmare that much more frightening (no offense to all you kitty box cleaners out there.)  So, I took the plunge and got online to date.  Sounds hysterical, and I think it was alcohol consumption and a shove from behind from Josh that actually convinced me to just try it out.  As a matter of fact, Josh wrote my profile because you never realize how hard it is to share how great you are until you are doing it. This phase really should be it’s own blog post!  Boy, do I have some hilarious stories to tell about phone calls and dates, but the only one that really matters is the one I ended up winking at in October of last year.  Yes, Chad, I did just admit I winked at you first and I even announced it publicly. That one move has forever changed my life. That one move taught me that breathing could be effortless again.

Chad has 4 kids all the time, I said I wanted someone without kids.  Chad runs 2 miles only because he has to for his job and will not run an extra step, I said I wanted to be sure whoever he was he had a passion for running. Chad snowboards, I hate a breeze when I am out in 90 degree weather.  Chad hunts, I have a vegetarian daughter and like animals more than people.  I love the beach, Chad is loving life if he’s in the mountains. What I was searching for was not Chad, although I had no idea that Chad was perfect for me.  Our very first phone call I knew this could be something good, and on our first date we never stopped talking and each time I saw him I couldn’t wait to see him again. He makes my sides hurt from laughing, he adores my kids, values family, speaks truth when I want him to listen, makes me chase the things I say I want, shares his kids, lives with passion, strives to always do better, enjoys life to the fullest, clears the air with a triangle hold, sings out of tune but sings out loud (that one is for your enjoyment Emma), is more focused on teaching than discipline, dreams of always being “home” and so much more. He’s taken me from straining to breathe to effortless breathing without ever intending to do so.

What about Josh and the kids and everything that goes with that?  We’ve had our fair share of hurts, promises broken, tears shed, greatest fears realized and changes upon changes. However, we’ve also stuck together, laughed louder, talked deeper, been more proud, shown loyalty, developed trust and fought harder than ever before.  Josh and I have learned that we don’t know what we don’t know.  That everyday is a new one and with each new day is a new change.  Daily we learn how to navigate this new territory.  Gladly I still cherish who Josh is and his friendship is one that compares to no other.  The kids are kids.  They are resilient, accepting, socially more aware and ready for what life has to offer.  We are all, thankfully, learning to breathe (and blog) again.