I’ve got something knocking around my head, taking over my heart. Right now it feels too big and loose to fit onto paper. I feel like I’m being handed small pieces of a one-thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle and I have, of course, tossed out the box so I have no idea what the final picture is supposed to be.
I’m being handed these small pieces of my childhood, of little revelations. Snapshots of moments. Remembering when I made some of my worst choices. I’m thinking and praying and reading. I’m listening to other peoples’ stories. I’m gathering it all in.
My divorce has brought something up that has been a theme throughout my entire life. Basically, in a nutshell: my relationship with men, why I run from them, and why they run from me. The pattern is that it can lay dormant for months and sometimes years at a time, and then, bam, something wakes it up. This time, it’s my divorce that has woken it up. And it’s pissed. It wanted to keep sleeping, it wanted to stay buried. It wanted to retain its power and control over me, keeping me feeling just short of worthwhile.
But this time, this time I am refusing to make it more comfortable in the hopes of lulling it back into hibernation. This time I am saying it’s time once and for all for me to understand this thing, and then, slay it. Because this time, I’m stronger. This time, I don’t want to keep it around just because it’s like a safety blanket (albeit a safety blanket covered in burrs).
So I’m suiting up, coal miners’ hat with the flashlight on and everything. It’s going to stir things up, it’s going to be messy, it’s going to make me both angry and deeply sad, but it’s what has to be done.
So here goes. Here’s to putting the pieces together. Here’s to shedding light on something that wanted to remain in the darkness. Here’s to being one step closer to freedom and healing and wholeness.