Three Years

The odd thing is that I thought this was going to be the 4 year anniversary.

I don’t know why I was adding an extra year on there. Probably because it feels like I’ve been on my own for much longer than three years.

I knew August was creeping up on me. I could feel it even without looking at a calendar.

There’s just something about August, about school starting and schedules changing.

And the night before school, I’m lying in bed and praying for my kids and thinking about another year alone.

Another year where I go to parent-teacher conferences and schedule extra meetings to make sure my son with ADHD is getting the schooling he needs alone.

Another year where I help with homework and book reports and reciting poems alone.

The irony is that Peter left me just 3 weeks into our oldest child’s Kindergarten year so I’ve never really known what it’d feel like to have a spouse more involved with those school activities.

So I don’t know why it always hits me hard in August.

I’ve been doing this all alone since the very beginning.

But this anniversary always hits me the hardest---because it is my D-day. Three years ago, I was in a relationship and since then, I haven’t been.

In fact, I can count on ONE hand the number of dates I’ve been on in the past three years.

I’ve tried. I’ve done the online dating thing a few times and it’ll seem to be working for a week or two and then all of a sudden, one guy will ruin it for the rest by texting me something dirty or I’ll read the profile of a guy who says extremely provocative things in his bio and I take ten thousand steps back and think to myself, “Oh my gosh, being single forever would be better than this!”

Because at least if I’m single, I won’t be getting my heart hurt by the extremely douchey guys that seem to exist in this world.

Another thing that really triggers me about online dating is the fact that 90% of the profiles say they’re interested in someone “slim and slender” or “athletic and toned”. And any time I see that on a profile, I feel like I’m reminded of why I’m single.

And then I have a hard time not listening to ED because it seems like he’s telling me the truth.

It’s just one big ball of frustrations and disappointments and there are days I consider just getting back together with Peter because, you know, he still loves me and maybe he is the only guy who ever will---because am I even loveable? 

I realize how irrational this is. 
Or maybe I don't. 
But I want to realize how irrational this is. 

It's just that dating with an eating disorder is not easy.
I'm pretty sure dating in general isn't easy either though.

So I tell myself most days that I'm ok being alone because, most days, I am.

But some days, it just hits me that it's been 3 years since I've been in a relationship and had another adult living in this home with me.

August is a messy month for so many reasons. 
Six years ago, tomorrow, I was diagnosed with infertility.
Four years ago this month, Peter left the church we were both attending and I felt so scared.
Three years ago this month, Peter walked out on me.
Two years ago this month, I had to stop being a stay-at-home mom and went back to work.
Last year this month, I was dealing with some after shocks of some traumatic events earlier that year. I also started telling others that I was questioning my faith and wanted to attend a Christian church.

August is my messy month and every year, I brace myself for what is to come.

And this year, I found myself quitting my job recently and dealing with some after shock and anxiety from that.

I'm not doing well right now. I'm hanging in there because I know it will get better but I've not been handling life well.

Because my body just senses the unsafety of August and every day feels unsure. 

Thankfully, I've got my tribe of people who are patient with me while I struggle through the shittyness of August.

Thankfully, thankfully, thankfully. 

Beautiful Scars

True to my obsessive nature, when I find a song that hits home, I listen to it over and over until it is engrained in my memory forever.

Right now, it is the song "I Believe" by Christina Perri. I posted it a week ago when I wrote When Wendy Met Alice because I usually imagine Alice singing it to me when I listen to it. Is that a weird thing for me to do? Maybe I'm also obsessed with Alice---yeah, probably true but I'm comfortable with that. She's pretty great.

Anyway...

When I hear this song, there is always a part that sticks out to me. "I wish that you could see your scars turn into beauty." I've been thinking about this phrase all day. I believe that will happen. Actually, I've seen it happen.

When I was infertile for years and years, I ached. I was a mess. I wanted so badly what so many other women could just do without hardly trying. Peter was not supportive after the first few months. He got sick of my baby fever and would often call me selfish for having a hard time as each of my sisters announced pregnancies. It was a really dark time for me---second only to my divorce from him. But after a few years, I could literally see how those scars from my infertility pain had turned into beauty. I was a different person because God had allowed me to experience an empathy toward others who were struggling. My empathy surpassed anything I had ever experienced and I got to a point where I could see the good in other people really easily.

Although Peter leaving has been the hardest thing I've ever faced in my life up to this point, I will always have those scars from infertility, from miscarriages, and from the many other trials I've experienced. These have all made me who I am today.

And I really hope that someday, the scars from my eating disorder and from divorce and Peter's pornography addiction will become beautiful scars that help me live a little more than I was before. I hope I am able to recognize those scars changing and making me a better woman, a better mother, and a better friend. I want so badly to be able to refrain from ever judging others. That is God's job, not mine, and only He knows our hearts. I wholeheartedly believe that if we knew everyone's story, we would be able to love them a little more.

Everyone has a story. Everyone struggles. Be kind to the people around you today---and every day.