2021: An Update

 Where do I even start? 

I can't possibly catch you up on everything that has happened in the last year and a half. 

But here are some of the highlights: 

- Graduated from college 

- Got a job teaching 11th grade English 

- Fostered one more baby after Cubby and then closed my license when she went home

- Started dating someone earlier this year and planning to marry him next year :) 

- Covid: another religious shift and recognizing that I need to tighten my circle a little more

The kids are all doing well. Cubby has some struggles and I need to get him in to a behavioral specialist but I am so proud of who he is and how far he has come since those early days of drug exposure and the uncertainty of foster care. 

Teaching is quite possibly the best decision I've ever made for our family. I am so glad I'm done with school and that my schedule allows me to be with my kids. Also, high schoolers are pretty amazing. They're butt heads ;) but they're also amazing. 

The man I'm dating is more than I ever thought I'd find. I mean, a liberal Christian feminist? Yeah. I didn't really think guys like that existed. We have been dating for over five months and although it hasn't been easy for me because a lot of past trauma has surfaced, he has been patient and validating. I spend most weekends at his house with Cubby or he comes to our house when the older kids are home. 

I currently attend a non-denominational Christian church and although I'm sure this has frustrated my extended family, I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I don't want to get into religion right now but I do not miss the LDS church and feel a lot of relief. I tried really hard to force myself to go back to my religious roots a few years ago because it was comfortable but I never felt completely right about that choice and never felt totally comfortable there. I have since learned a lot of things that have cemented my decision of where I want to raise my family and I'm grateful for everything the last year has taught me. 

Any other topics to update? I'm not sure what I'm going to do with this blog. I might use it for processing past trauma while dating or I may go back to not writing at all. I guess we will see. :) 

Another December

Hi. It’s been a year. 

Did you miss me? Probably not. 😂 

I was reading through the last post on this blog and remembering what a year ago felt like—how frustrating it was to watch my son’s biological parents give up on fighting for him. 

The story pretty much ended there. After last December’s court hearing, Cubby’s bio mom never saw him again. 

Because of some mistakes made by the attorney, our adoption story took a little bit longer than planned but we adopted our boy in October of this year. 

I now have THREE children—and still no husband. 

Christmas can be such a lonely time. I definitely seem to struggle more around this holiday season. 

We made some huge changes this year that brought our family closer together. But I still go to bed and feel alone at night and wonder if I will ever be good enough for another man. I try really hard not to base my self-worth on whether I am in a relationship but it is really hard. 

Six years ago, I wasn’t the only one out of my friends whose relationship status changed from married to single. Not necessarily close friends, but friends/acquaintances nonetheless. And I often compare my life to their’s and wonder why I am the only one that has never been in a relationship since then. Is it because I’m not pretty enough? Skinny enough? Is it because I am a Mormon? or maybe it is because I am not a strong enough Mormon. Is it because of my personality? Gosh, what is it? 

It bothers me from time to time. I don’t think about it throughout each day and it definitely does not consume my life but that doesn’t mean I don’t think and wish my life looked different. 

I am a single mother. And yes, I adopted a baby on my own. And that doesn’t make sense to a lot of people. But even though I know it was right to adopt my son, I really wish he had a dad. I really wish I wasn’t embarking on a career while raising three young children on my own. It is so scary. The last of my college adventure starts in January, where I get to work a job for 14 weeks without getting paid a single penny. At the same time, I am expected to pay all of my bills and support three children on my own. At the same time, I am expected to be on time to pick my children up from school and day care and take them to their various activities.

That all starts in less than three weeks. And I am panicking. I am so damn scared that I am going to fall short as a mother, as a breadwinner, and as a freaking human being. What if I fail? What if I can’t do all of the things, all at once? 

My anxiety is high. Some days, I just wish I could run away with my children and not do these hard adulting things. I just want to be a mom. I just don’t want to fall short. 

I can’t voice all of these things to my closest friends and family because they don’t understand. I constantly feel like my life as a foster mom and adoptive mom doesn’t make sense because I am placing more stress on myself. But every time I pray about it, I get this overwhelming feeling like I’m supposed to be a foster mom. 

I am sure I sound crazy. What’s new? 

I miss my older kids right now. I am sure that is why my emotions are heightened. I hate sharing holidays. I hate sharing any time with their dad. I know they need him but I still selfishly want them with me all of the time. 

I need friends who are closer and more available. I don’t have that right now. I do have amazing friends but not ones that are close and available. I try really hard to mask some of the darkness that I feel because I watch other single moms and feel like somehow, they are just doing it better. They have their people. 

There is this part of me that believes I have my people. There is this part of me that tries to ask for help and reach out. And then there is this other part of me that doesn’t want to ask for help because I usually feel let down when person upon person upon person isn’t available to help. Belle moved away and I don’t have a relationship like that with anybody else. I don’t think anybody would understand what a huge loss that was. And then she made new friends and it all just feels so different. 

Sometimes I look back to three or four years ago, when the actual relationship between myself and Peter was a lot harder. And I wish we could go back to that because at least I had more people who saw me. I wish I could go back to that because back then, my relationship with religion was less complicated. 

I love my life and my children. But it is so hard. These nights, the nights where the demons come out in my brain, are so hard for me because there is no one I can reach out to and talk to. I’m just alone. 

My fear is that I will always be alone. 

Hope

I think my body must've known it'd been three years, even though my brain didn't know until a memory popped up on Facebook. 

The anxiety I've felt all weekend has been pretty severe---chest pains, numbing, considering giving up on everything I've worked for. 

I couldn't figure out why I felt that way. Was it a money issue? A friend issue? A parenting issue? A divorce issue? 

I still don't quite know. 

But what I do know is that yesterday marked three years since my deepest heartbreak as a single mom. 

So maybe that played a part. 

When I realized this, I thought back on the past three years and all of the changes and healing that have taken place. 

I lost support. 

I left the church. 

I cut a lot of ties. 

I made new, genuine friendships. 

I came back to church. 

And I realized just how seldom I think about that day anymore. 

A portion of the past three years was spent being kicked down, building myself back up, only to be kicked down again. 

But I've learned how to better dodge those kicks. 

You guys, the remarkable thing is that I'm grateful for everything I've been taught in the past three years. I'm grateful for my time away from my church and the time I've spent back there. I'm grateful for a God who very promptly put healing tools in place when I felt like suicide was the only way to break free from my heartache. I'm grateful for the atonement of Jesus Christ and the ability He gave me to forgive myself for "hindsight" and also the ability He gave me to forgive others for the pain they caused. 

I don't know if that is why my body is feeling so much anxiety right now and I hate that. I hate how anxiety since the court trial has become hard to identify. It comes and goes fiercely, often times without explanation or warning. 

But I know it won't always be this way. I know the effects of the court trial won't last forever, just as the pain and anxiety of three years ago eventually dissipated. 

So at least there is hope. 

I Want To Be Better

Another email came through containing a "Confidential Item" from the church.

They asked for a new letter because last year, Peter's temple clearance was not approved and he is applying for it again.

And I didn't lose my cool when the email came through! I sat down and wrote out my feelings and sent the letter within two days of the request.

Last year, I took 3.5 weeks to write the letter and it was six pages long. This time, my letter was three pages long.

And maybe I don't care if he gets sealed to her in the temple or maybe I kind of do. I know it's going to happen eventually. But I kind of wish it would've happened last year so I wouldn't have had to write another letter.

It's all going to be ok. 

I was listening to a conference talk at lunch about how our lives hardly ever turn out how we imagined they would and how we need to trust in God and allow Him to guide us through our storms.

This doesn't stop the pain from trials. But pulling closer to Him rather than pulling away from Him is the key here.

And I'm trying so hard to do that. 

I made a calendar of daily goals that include yoga and scripture study and journal writing, etc. I know I need to work harder to fight this anxious state I've been in since the court trial. I don't like the way I feel right now.

I want to be better. 

I want to give the control to God because when I try and control everything, I relapse with my eating disorder and I allow my OCD to make my decisions.

So as hard as it is right now, I'm going to try and give up the control I so desperately am holding onto.

Now I just need to figure out exactly how to do that...

Today We Went To Court

Today I woke up and got ready for one of the biggest days of my life.

Today I dropped my children off to a babysitter and picked up my best friend.

Today I did not eat a single thing before 7:00pm.

Today I walked into a court room followed closely by my lawyer, my parents, two of my sisters, and two of my best friends.

Today I endured an hour and a half of anxiety as I listened to Peter lie to his lawyer, my lawyer, and the judge.

Today I thought my anxiety might literally cause a heart attack because of the pain I felt in my chest.

Today I was called to the stand and found myself barely able to walk because of the shaking occurring in my knees.

Today I took a seat on the stand and gave the court my full name, the whole time trying to keep my lips from quivering.

Today my lawyer asked me questions and I felt the Holy Spirit fill my soul and cause my anxiety to dissipate.

Today I answered questions with confidence and instead of trying hard not to cry, I was focusing on not smiling at the people there to support me.

Today I defended myself and my beliefs firmly while my ex-husband's lawyer tried to put words in my mouth and accuse me of being selfish and manipulative.

Today I fought hard for my children.

Today I walked out of the court house, knowing I had done everything I could do to show that judge what is best for my children.

Today I was the definition of warrior. The absolute definition.

And tonight, although my anxiety has returned while I wait "up to 60 days" for a verdict from the judge, I feel this beautiful, sacred gratitude for my family and friends and especially for my Heavenly Father.

Today He was there for me on an extremely hard day. And He showed me how the Priesthood can work intricately in my life.

Today was filled with more beauty than I ever could've imagined. 

Next Right Step

I spoke in church a few weeks ago. 

They didn't give me much direction so I gave them my life story. 

I didn't tell them about addiction but I told them about divorce.

I didn't tell them about the custody battle but I did tell them that I struggle to attend church because I feel like our family is broken.


My testimony still goes between "this is exactly where I'm supposed to be" and "I never want to step foot in this place again".

Someone please tell me that's normal. 


I believe the church needs my messy self in it. I truly do. Even when I don't feel like I fit in, or maybe especially when I feel like I don't fit in, I feel like I'm doing the right thing.

The church is full of messy people. 

I see it so much more now than I ever did growing up.

There is so much more grey than I ever used to think there was.

But I think grey is what makes us, us.

If everything was black and white, it'd probably look more like Satan's plan.

But because we get to choose for ourselves and because God made us individuals with different views and opinions, our world is full of grey.

I like that thought. I really do. 

I like the grey. Because it makes us unique.

And I like being unique because it makes me feel more needed on earth---like my specific personality and opinions and ideas are helpful to others on this earth.

I think that's why I take it so hard when my people get hurt---and even harder when I feel responsible for that hurt.

It is pretty important to me that I'm helpful, that I'm looking for ways to help others feel good about themselves. In fact, that very last phrase is in my patriarchal blessing.

It is a testament to how well my Heavenly Father knows me. He knows I am capable of lifting others and that lifting others helps me lift myself too.

So even though I'm a messy person and I sometimes want to run away, I am not going to.

I am not going anywhere. 

I have been active in the LDS church for a YEAR now. An entire year! 

My prayers were answered a week after Thanksgiving in 2016. 

Because last Thanksgiving, after hearing about my kids spending the holiday with (in my daughter's words) "their possible new mom", I completely broke. And I cried for days and allowed myself to sink so low.

And it was at this low point that I was finally able to listen and hear what God was saying. I went to Him with absolute humility {and a dash of anger} and told Him I would do anything and be anything and say anything---I just needed Him to tell me what the next right step was. 

This past year, I've lived by that "next right step" rule and it has gotten me through some of the ugliest moments of 2017.

And I'm realizing there are always going to be ugly moments. 

But if I keep my focus on my Heavenly Father, I will never fall short of that next right step.

Unbreakable

 Once upon a time, I thought I was unbreakable.

And then my husband left me.
And my children struggled.
And a lot of my friends decided to hate me.
And some of my friends betrayed me.
And I struggled with my faith.
And my eating disorder almost killed me.

And I broke. 

I thought I was unbreakable---and I broke. 
Not once. Not twice. But multiple times, I broke. 

And I remember as each of these things happened that I would look toward Heaven and wonder WHY?
I would get so angry.
I would cry.
I would reach out.
I would hide out.
I would experience deep feelings of anxiety.
And some of the times, I wanted to die.


And then time would pass and people who truly loved me would remind me why they stay and God would comfort me.

And somehow, the thing that I thought I would never heal from would start to heal. The wounds would scab over. The sun would peek out of the clouds. The flowers would start to bloom again.

It was in these moments that I was reminded time and time again that I am not unbreakable.
I am not. 
But when I break, I don't break forever.

Today I am relishing in this truth---that I am a survivor. I did not give up, even when I wanted to so many times.

I did not give up. 

I have spent countless hours of crying and wondering and doubting and although this sounds awful, it isn't always awful. Because those hours of crying and wondering and doubting are what made me who I am today.

A much stronger, more resilient, more compassionate Wendy. 

And I've learned that the people who blame me or hate me or try to break me---they don't know me. And that thought used to frustrate me. I used to get upset thinking I'd given up a portion of my life to people in my life whom I truly loved but who didn't love me back and I hated that they never took the time to truly know me.
But I no longer feel that way.
It no longer makes me angry.

It makes me sad---for them.

Because I know who I am. I know how incredible I am. I know what is inside of my heart. And anybody willing to try and break that is missing out.

My life is beautiful not because it's perfect and not because the sun is always shining. My life is beautiful because I choose to see it that way.

I choose to bask in the brightness that is my children and being a dance teacher and being a child of God and a Christian. I choose to remember the good and learn from the bad.

I might be breakable---but I am also capable of healing. 

And that is what truly counts. 

Because It Matters

I often find myself alone at the end of the day pondering on the past 14 or so hours and wondering why my heart feels the way that it does.

The exhaustion of the highs and the lows that seem so intertwined and connected to each other.

The battles with myself to eat or not eat or exercise or lay on the couch.

The worrying over whether I'm doing a good enough job at mothering my two children.

The frustration over not being able to budget correctly or the excitement that I have budgeted correctly.

The fear that if I leave the church, I'll be judged and I won't be able to handle it.

There are so many things---and usually, at the end of the day, I find myself believing that none of it is as important as I'm making it out to be. I start to tell myself that I'm being dramatic and overly tense and creating problems that aren't there.

And most of the nights this happens, I forget to remind myself that it hurts because it is real. It is real because it is important to me.

It may not matter to everyone but it matters to me.

After my fight with Peter last night, we went days without speaking before I finally called him to find out when he was going to pick up our children that night. On the phone, he apologized for the way he had treated me and he told me he was going to try harder---and for a minute, I felt bad for being angry at him.

But then I remembered that even though his apology might be real, it still hurts when he calls me names and uses emotional abuse to try and negotiate with me.

This has happened way too many times and it makes it harder to trust him when he apologizes.

I distinctly remember months ago when I called him crying to relay some really emotional information that he needed to know about our children and having his initial response---through my sobbing replies---be full of judgment and anger that I had failed as a mother. 
And as I sat there stunned and vulnerable, I remember hanging up the phone mid-sentence because I couldn't believe his lack of empathy. I couldn't believe that as he listened to me sob, he couldn't find it in him to listen to my pain---instead he chose to make it worse.

I often don't understand Peter. I'm thankful that he is getting to a point where he apologizes after the fact but it still baffles me that after everything I gave him for 7+ years, he finds it hard to trust ME and be kind to me.

It is hard to navigate these feelings, to put on a brave face when I want to spew my anger out all over the world.

But that is not who I am. I am not a grudge-holding, anger-spewing, judgmental woman. I'm not.

It is hard when I feel like I'm not being who I really am---even though I am trying my hardest to stay transparent with my people.

LDS General Conference was really hard for me this weekend. I turned it on Saturday morning and liked the first talk but it seemed to stop there. I missed the afternoon session because of prior commitments and then I ended my night at Mission church where I attend service and then serve in the special needs ministry.

Saturday nights are mine. They are when I feel like I am who I'm supposed to be. They are when I see God's plan for me the clearest.

I usually find myself attached at the hip with a 4 year old boy who has Cerebral Palsy, among other special needs. He is non-vocal and usually comes in looking nervous and concerned---until he sees me. We spend most of the hour dancing around the room, singing songs about God's love for us.

It. Is. Beautiful. 

This past week, he wasn't there and we had more volunteers than children so I spent most of the hour singing and dancing around the room with the older children, laughing until our stomachs hurt. We learned the story of Gideon and spoke about how we can be brave when things get hard and how we are all warriors in our own way.

And as I danced around the room, I found myself wondering more than ever before about another volunteer in the room---a male volunteer with dreadlocks and tattoos and earrings and the hugest heart in the world---and I wondered.

Just wondered.

Because his awkward personality and goofy smile are imperfectly perfect but I wondered if thinking more about this little crush would cause an uproar among my people---because he isn't a Mormon.

And it was in that moment as I watched this man goofing around with a little Down Syndrome boy that I realized I want to be with someone like him---not someone who is Mormon but someone who is genuine and goes to church even when they are single and volunteers in a special needs ministry.

Whether that's him or it's someone else, I'm realizing that all I want is a man who is centered in Christ and knows he is a child of God. I want a man who isn't afraid to be himself and let me be who I am.

I know that was a little bit of a tangent but Saturday nights are usually so beautiful and I find myself getting carried away with the happiness and peace I feel as I spend my Saturdays with those children.

I digress---conference was hard because my mother, who I know loves me, kept asking if I'd come over and watch at their house. I politely declined on Saturday but she asked again on Sunday and after declining the morning session, she told me she would expect me for the afternoon session.

And I went but the hardest part is that I've already made some pretty definitive decisions when it comes to my faith. I've already realized that the Mormon church isn't right for me.

Spending the afternoon with my mother was hard because she kept asking what I had learned from conference and I was feeling defensive and teenager-ish and I didn't want to answer her. It was painful for me because although we made it through the evening with no pandemonium, I felt like I was fighting the urge to act hostile toward her---and I don't want to be that person!

I know it is going to be hard and that my family will mourn and hurt and be more aggressive in their attempts to help me believe what they believe. I am not looking forward to those feelings.

But the way that I feel, the happiness that I feel in knowing that I am becoming who God wants me to become is worth all of the uncomfortableness.

I am right where I am supposed to be and that is what matters the most.