An open letter to the year that built me,
Well, that was fucked up! I thought I had already faced heartache. I thought I had learned how to pick myself up and begin again; years before. But then without warning … it was if you turned around, looked directly into my eyes, and said “Hold my beer…” haha
For reasons only you can be sure of, you pushed me into the deep end; then asked me to swim. You handed me a fistful of manure and demanded that I grow. You threw me into the fire and suggested that I would have the strength to rise…
It was all rather appalling and I’ve frequently contemplated “why?…” At first it was all I could do to relax my mind, soul, and body enough to just float in that deep end. It felt energetically impossible to plant anything, in even the richest of fertilizers. And the idea of rising (when I struggled to just pull myself out of bed), was truthfully inconceivable…
What I really wanted was for the shame to dissolve and the pain to end. The only reason I didn’t “take matters into my own hands” was because I was gifted (almost two years prior), a girl; who I love more than myself. The universe had therefore given me then not only a reason, but a purpose to journey on… I almost instinctively recognized that my steps forward needed to be both mindful and deliberate; regardless of the storm surrounding me. I believed then (as I still do now), that how I chose to stomach what you served us, would either lead Molly and I further away from, or closer to our deserved destination.
Still, residing in a place of pain and helplessness I desperately needed to know that kindness remained; and so you showed me… As I marinated within the cocoon of chaos and sorrow the “gifts” arrived; over and over again. Disguised as people, cards, jewelry, calendars, healing rocks, epic crystals, texts, coffee, tea, meals, groceries, phone calls, friends, family, acquaintances, and visits; (most of which I really didn’t want at the time)… I didn’t want them, but you knew that I NEEDED them. It was time to grow.
You took away my hopes, dreams, and belief that I’d finally found my happily ever after (rather violently I may add); but then threw kindness at me like it was confetti… It was as though you were determined I felt cared for, supported, and loved; and so I did. It was at times very challenging to be open and accepting of all that you bestowed upon me; as I struggled with not wanting to be seen (literally or figuratively).
You showered me with love and kindness, to the point that it almost became impossible to believe that I wasn’t some how deserving of it. You presented me with friends who took turns watching Molly and encouraging me to get up, when I thought I couldn’t. Friends who held me literally, in person; and figuratively, with space when there were no words. You strengthened my bonds with siblings.
You fortified my already sacred attachment that has long existed with my parents. You gave my grieving mother the patience of a saint in letting her recognize that I wasn’t giving her a hard time, but I was rather having one myself. You gave my dad the strength to answer my every call and text (regardless of the hour), only so he could purposefully (voice sometimes shaking), remind me that “it was going to be ok.”
You sent me people I’d never known or met with messages of consolation, and reminders that my heartache was their heartache too. You delivered me a co-worker who let me cry in the car and then encouraged me to woundedly walk through the front doors of school. You thoughtfully picked the children I worked with (who in needing a safe place to exist), reminded me that I had additional worth. You sent me to Nicaragua; further confirming how small we are in relation to the world. You hand delivered me to a local news station reporter, who saw value in the path I was walking; and worked to help me be both compassionately seen, and heard. You pointed me in the direction of multiple healers via reiki, yoga, and EMDR; giving me safe places to process my trauma.
You gave me additional gifts of darkness as well. Dressed as the people who remained silent, when I wished they hadn’t; forcing me to sometimes do things on my own. You tested me by sending interactions with others who were also wounded; and therefore hurt me with their words and/or actions.
I remember vividly the days and nights that I hoped to be here where I am today; 365 days away from “THE” day. Life experience had already taught me (more than once), that time and space often bring clarity, healing, and strength (all of which I immediately began praying for); in the wake of the darkest dawn I’d ever known.
I can’t count the number of moments, throughout the days, within this year, in which I’ve ached to put a full twelve months of space between myself and “the beginning of this end.” The destructive course of events through which the universe conspired to save me/us still manage take my breath away… But at long last, it has arrived. The anniversary of the day. The day in which a reality beyond my wildest imagination proved itself to be true.
It’s hard to measure all that has transpired or how Molly and I have grown. Yet it’s easy to believe that the events of this past year were merely a catalyst for major change. And it’s hard not to believe that the universe has your back, when you realize that “it” refused to let you promise your one and only forever to a man, who turned out to be so very unworthy… This trip around the sun served as a poetic reminded to me, of the beauty that resides within our brokenness. It proved to me that we are courageous enough to stay with the rawness of our most uncomfortable emotions/feelings we find that it is actually the birthplace of our most sacred of gifts. It is only in daring to be vulnerable and touched by the world that our compassion, understanding, and authenticity can grow. When we are still enough we will come to notice (after the dust settles), that our new vantage point brings with it pristine insight as to what matters most in this life/world.
While it is not the entire war, I feel as if today and the previous 364 days were victorious battles for my army and I. We did it! The gratitude within my heart cannot be typed, but leaks from my eyes… Tonight I’m gonna cry (I think that’s a country song), but tomorrow I will rise. The little almost three year old I let sleep in my bed, will be sure of it. It won’t be long before the moon is sleeping and the sun is back.