Sadness

I wish there was a manual that came with life called, “The Many Faces and Stages of Your Emotions.” Right now I would be pouring over the section for emotions you will feel after divorcing an abusive spouse, giving particular attention to the subsection for what you will feel when your ex gets remarried. I am pretty sure the main emotion it would talk about would be sadness, as that is what I am experiencing right now.

Emotions can be so confusing. Since filing for divorce, I never once reconsidered going back to the marriage, but the six months of separation before filing were filled with times when I tried to figure out how we could work things out and remain a family. All I wanted was for him to be nice to me and the children and for us to be a happy family. Emotions were like a rollercoaster at that time. As his disrespect of me increased, even with knowing that it was a trial time to see if we could work things out, it became clear to me that God would not want me to continue to be treated so poorly, so the final decision was made.

And yet for the last week since he got remarried the overwhelming feeling I have experienced is sadness. After having spent the week trying to understand why I have felt this way I felt writing would help me to process these emotions.

Yesterday my children went to spend the weekend with their dad. We had a talk before their visit about how things would be different with having a stepmom. I explained to them that things in our home would stay the same; that I would still pick them up on Sunday evening, I would still love them and always be here for them. I also told them that having a stepmom meant that they would have one more person in their lives to love them and care for them. Then I surprised myself by telling them that oftentimes children who have divorced parents secretly hope that their parents will get back together but having one parent get remarried means that they can’t get back together and that can cause a lot of emotions for the child.

Even though I have never considered getting back together with their dad since the divorce, I believe that some of my sadness is coming from the fact that we never will be a family again. The sadness is more from the loss of what could have been rather than from the loss of what we had. There were moments of happiness as a family, and I will always treasure those, but the overall daily experience was not something to be sad about losing. This is where emotions get so confusing. Why would I be sad about not being a family with him? Because I had given myself to him, I had promised my life to him, I bore his children. I had believed that if I prayed hard enough and did the best I could each day that things would changed and we could be happy together. But that didn’t happen. The sadness is from losing the possibility of having the ideal. Ideally, children should grow up in a two parent home with parents who love each other and them. So some of the sadness is for my children not being able to have the ideal.

Never have I had the desire to be a single parent. Having been a single parent for three years now, I would never wish the experience on anyone. And yet the challenging experience of being a single parent has been so much better than having to deal with the abuse on a daily basis. That is where some of the sadness comes from, as well. I feel sad that my life is better without the father of my children in my life. That is not how I envisioned my life to be. When I got married, I knew there would be challenges along the way, but I always felt that with God we would be able to get through anything. We loved each other, we shared the same religion, we seemed to have the same goals in life. I truly thought we would always be together. I feel sad that it is better (safer) for me and the children to not be with him.

Wikipedia describes sadness as “emotional pain associated with, or characterized by feelings of disadvantage, loss, despair, helplessness, disappointment and sorrow. An individual experiencing sadness may become quiet or lethargic, and withdraw themselves from others. Crying is often an indication of sadness.”

I definitely have been feeling emotional pain, but it has not been all consuming. I feel a great loss. I definitely feel disappointment and sorrow. And yes, I have felt like crying a lot. But I don’t feel the despair or helplessness anymore. I did at first. They were so overwhelming when I left the marriage that I wasn’t sure if I could continue living. But the despair has now given way to hope. The helplessness has given way to personal power. As I continually discover who I am, there is hope that each day can be better than the last.

Emotions are funny things. Yes, I feel a deep sadness right now. But I also feel an excitement, an anticipation for the future. I am not trapped in my life anymore. I do not have to be held back because of the man I am with. I have freedom to become whoever I choose to be. And that is nothing to be sad about!

What emotions have you struggled with in your life this week?

Compromise vs Collaboration

Whenever disagreements arose in my marriage, I was told that I needed to compromise. The very mention of the word compromise would immediately cause me to shut down emotionally. I never really understood my reaction until I heard a story that demonstrated perfectly my feelings about compromise.

Winter was coming and a man needed a winter coat. He decided to go hunting for a bear to make a coat out of. At the same time a bear was hungry. He decided to go hunting for something to eat. The two met in the woods and felt that the other was the answer to his problem. They sat down together to discuss their individual problems: the man needed a coat and the bear needed food. They felt that compromise would solve their issue, so they came up with a plan that appeared to fit both of their needs. In the end, the bear was no longer hungry and the man no longer had a need for a coat.

This story shows how in a compromise, though both parties needs appear to be met, someone always loses. Throughout my marriage I was told over and over again how I needed to compromise and every time I felt that I was like the man in the story; I was eaten by the bear. I believe there is a better way.

When I think about being in a relationship, I see myself and my children in a world of our creation and a man in his world. In a relationship of compromise, either I have to leave my world to enter the man's world, or the man has to leave his world to enter my world. I believe, or hope, that it is possible to instead use collaboration. I would like to believe we can bring the best of both our worlds and create something new together. (insert Disney song, "A Whole New World") Through good communication, mutual respect, and unselfish love two people should be able to come together and create a relationship that is fulfilling and beneficial to all involved. That is my hope and desire, to find someone who is willing to work hand in hand to create a whole new world.

How collaboration looks in a relationship:

Winter was coming and a man needed a winter coat. He decided to go hunting for a bear to make a coat out of. At the same time a bear was hungry. He decided to go hunting for something to eat. The two met in the woods and felt that the other was the answer to his problem. They sat down together to discuss their individual problems: the man was cold and the bear was hungry. They felt that each party had skills that could aid in fulfilling the other party's needs so they came up with a plan that appeared to fit both their needs. The man had skills in fishing and gathering berries so he could help feed the bear whenever he was hungry. The bear had nice, warm fur so he could shelter the man in times of cold. In the end, a friendship was formed that allowed each party to live a happy, productive life.

Are there any words in your life that cause you to shut down and not hear others?

Stigma

All my childhood I dreamed of being a wife and a mother. Nothing seemed to be as wonderful as being married. Society, religion, and family taught me that all other accomplishments in life would be nothing compared to the importance of me fulfilling the roles of wife and mother. I believed it, I desired it, I strived to obtain it. Movies portrayed that I would meet "the one," and would know we were meant to be. Then we would spend the rest of our time together in bliss and, according to Disney, would live happily ever after.

As I got older and watched all my siblings and many friends get married, I began to wonder about those childhood thoughts. I have always been an observer, willing to learn from other's mistakes instead of having to learn from personal experience. So after noticing that so many people were unhappy in their marriages. I began making mental notes of things I didn't want to do in my marriage and things I would like to include. The number one item on my list was that divorce would never be an option. The "D" word would never be spoken in my relationship. We would work out any problems we had and there would never be a threat of divorce or the ability to use divorce as an ultimatum.

I was never a big dater, I was one of "those girls" that were for marrying, not for having fun with. I only had a couple of boyfriends and by the time I was twenty-four (I know! That is so young! I was just a baby!) had decided that I should just give up completely on the idea of marriage. There would never be anybody compatible with me. That's when I met my future husband. Things progressed quickly and before long we were married and expecting our first child. All my dreams seemed to be coming true!

The problems started immediately. I had always felt I was fairly easy to get along with. I had lived with multiple roommates as well as coming from a large family. I had learned to get along with lots of different personalities but marriage seemed to bring challenges that couldn't compare with anything I had yet experienced. I tried to convince myself that we were just struggling with normal marriage problems. I was being too sensitive and needed to be less judgmental. If I just did things his way then he wouldn't have to yell at me so much. If I just fulfilled his desires and thought less about myself then he would be happy and things would be better. I must be too selfish. If I only thought of him then he wouldn't have so many things to complain about.

Before long, my sense of self was completely lost. It didn't matter what I wanted to do with my time, if he wanted me to do something else I did it. Even if I was throwing up from morning sickness, my body belonged to him. If he was home I couldn't talk on the phone without him listening in and controlling my conversations. Every moment of my day was consumed with how to make him happy and how to keep him from becoming angry. I didn't tell anybody, though, because I felt that I was failing at the one thing I had dreamed about all my life.

My mom would come to visit and she would see the way he treated me. When he would be gone at work she would try to tell me that I shouldn't let him treat me the way he did. I always defended him, excused his behavior, and justified the way he treated me. I didn't want my mom to know how much I was suffering inside. I didn't want her to know I was a failure.

I did everything I could for the first five years to not talk about my struggles in the marriage. Then we moved to another state and spent a couple of months living with my sister and her family. We had three children at the time and we all stayed in one room together while we were waiting to buy our own house. Walls inside a home are thin. I could no longer hide the truth about my marriage. I felt he was on his best behavior when we were around my sister's family, but apparently his best behavior was pretty bad because they were completely appalled at the way he treated me and our children. And his treatment of me behind closed doors could still be heard by others in the house. The secret was out. I had a failing marriage and I couldn't hide it any more.

It's interesting how stigmas can keep us from making decisions that will be for our highest and best good. I have known many people in my life who were divorced and I never thought any worse about them, but when I thought about me being divorced, I couldn't bear the thought of admitting I was a failure. I really honestly thought that it was a sign of weakness, a sign of selfishness, a sign I wasn't good enough to make it work. If I truly loved my children I would stay with their dad so they could grow up in a two parent home.

For three years after our move I tried to do what I could to "save" our marriage. I sought counsel from our religious leaders, I talked to my husband and tried to make changes to myself based on his suggestions, I prayed constantly, fervently, begging for help to know how I could make this marriage work. I didn't want my children to have the stigma of divorced parents. I didn't want to live with the stigma of being a divorcee. We shared the same religion, we claimed to have the same life goals, surely we could find a way to make this marriage work. But no matter how much I put into making it work, he still treated me with no respect. He still caused me to feel like I was less than the dirt he walked on. He still caused our home to feel unsafe.

I finally woke up to the fact that staying for the children to have a two parent home was far more damaging than getting a divorce when one of my daughters told someone at school that she wasn't sure that she wanted her dad to be her dad anymore. She also said at school that she was afraid that one of her younger siblings was getting bruised from her dad spanking her. At the time we had four children. Three out of the four had been bruised many times during "discipline." The fourth was still an infant. Something had to change. If I didn't get out of the marriage soon, a teacher was going to hear my child's reports and child services was going to be called.

When our youngest was eleven months old, my fear of watching him go through the abuse the other children went through became so great that I could hardly even function. I couldn't watch another child be broken by their father. Many things led up to that day when the pain of staying finally became greater than the pain of leaving. It doesn't sound logical, but in my mind I thought that I would literally die by following through with leaving my husband. I had asked him twice if we could temporarily separate to try to work things out from a distance. He plopped himself down on the couch and said, "This is my house and no one can make me leave!" I couldn't go to my sister's house because he would be able to find me. I had no where to go, no one to ask for help. That is when I was given the number of a homeless shelter for women escaping domestic violence. I put off calling as long as I could, but when I saw what was happening to my children, I finally called.

If the stigma of getting a divorce was difficult for me to swallow, the stigma of living in a homeless shelter was even more challenging. Add to it the domestic violence and it was almost unbearable. Domestic violence was a label for someone who was being beaten, not for me. But I quickly learned that there was just as much domestic violence in my situation as there was in the other women I met through the shelter. At first I felt guilty being there, feeling that I didn't fit the requirements, but as we shared stories I learned that my pain was real. My experience was valid. My marriage was filled with domestic violence, disrespect, and lots of pain. But during my time in the shelter and since, I also learned that there was hope. Life could get better. I could heal. I wasn't really weak, I was brave and strong. And the only reason there was hope was because I was willing to stand up and leave a situation that was bad for both me and my children. I was giving my children a better life.

Sometimes it is still hard to admit that I am divorced. I can easily say that I am a single mom of four children but it still hurts to say the word "divorced." I was never going to be "one of those" people, whatever that means. When I look back on my childhood dreams I feel slightly betrayed. Once you get married everything is supposed to just work out. Disney, you lied to me! ;-) There is no "happily ever after." Regardless of how things turned out, I am grateful for what I have learned. I am so grateful for my four amazing children. I am grateful to have learned that I am strong enough, I am good enough. And though there is still much pain, I can honestly say that I am grateful to my ex-husband for all he has taught me. I would never ask to repeat any of what I have experienced, but I would never ask to change what has happened because it has revealed so much of who I am. And that is a gift.

Are you holding back anything in your life because of a stigma or outdated belief?

The question that changed me

When I moved into the domestic violence shelter it seemed to me as if the rest of the world outside of me surviving ceased to exist. It literally seemed as if there was nothing outside of my fear, nothing outside of survival. I did go to work and did my best to pretend that life was normal, but inside I was shaking, hypervigilant, and wondering how I would live to the next day. Everytime I went outside I spent every second scanning my surroudings looking for danger. Everytime my phone rang I feared who it was and worried about how I would answer the questions I knew would be asked.

Explaining to my children what was going on was difficult because I didn't feel I should say anything negative to them about their dad. At the time they were 8, 6, 4, and 11 months. We did talk about the scary things they had personally experienced but I didn't share what happened between their dad and me. They transitioned fairly well, but every second of the day and night I worried about them and how to best help and support them.

During my stay at the shelter I met with the counselor several times a week. During one of our visits she asked me a question that completely changed who I was and how I looked at myself. Others might wonder how her question could have caused such a stir in me, it was so simple in nature, but it was very significant in my progression. She asked me, "Amy, what are you doing to take care of you?" I stared at her blankly for longer than I probably should have. After the shock of the question wore off, many thoughts quickly shot through my mind. "What am I doing for me?! I'm worried about whether I'm going to live through the day and I'm supposed to be doing something for me?! I have to keep my children alive! I have to find a way to support my family without help! I'm so scared that I have to consciously will myself to breathe so I don't pass out! What am I doing to take care of myself?!"

I finally answered with something along the lines of I was there in the shelter and that is what I was doing to take care of myself. She encouraged me to find something  to do each day that would nourish myself. I said I would and took that goal very seriously.

It seems to be the nature of a woman to look after others needs first before her own. It doesn't take domestic violence for a person to lose themself in the caring of others and keeping a household functioning. In the case of domestic violence, it is a common experience to have a total loss of identity and self worth. Such was the case with me. By the time I ended up at the shelter, I felt utterly and completely worthless in all areas of my life except my work. Professionally I was a massage therapist. I felt that while working I had a purpose. I helped other people with their pain and problems. I made their lives better and I was good at it. But I only worked a couple of hours a day and that feeling of purpose did not carry through to my home life. At that time of moving into the shelter I only lived for my children. I wanted them to have a better life and they would only get that if I lived long enough to provide it for them.

So I began asking myself the same question the counselor asked me. "Amy, what are you doing for you today?" At first I thought this was a selfish question. I should be thinking of others before myself. But then I remembered being told at some point in my life that if I gave all I had then I would have nothing left to give. I needed to find a way to fill myself back up.

Throughout my life and in dealing with the normal trials that come with living, I had become a very spiritual person, spending much time in scripture study and prayer. I made sure during our stay at the shelter to include these things in my family's daily life. I also played hymns all night long in our room to help calm all of us. When we moved into our own place, we continued these practices. It helped a lot but there was more I needed in order to take care of myself. I prayed a lot about what to do and how to heal and nourish myself.

After establishing my family in our own apartment, I continued to see the counselor at the shelter. On one of our visits she told me that the shelter wanted to expand the classes they offered to their clients and wanted to know if I would be willing to help out. She explained that as they thought about who could teach my name immediately came to her mind. She said she didn't even know what I could teach but with my background in massage she hoped I could do some sort of class on self care. I love to teach so I agreed to come up with some ideas for classes.

While contemplating what I could possibly have to offer, I was reminded of a program called Capacitar that offered free information of what they call "emergency kits" for dealing with stress and trauma. The emergency kit is a free download that shows some tai chi, fingerholds for balancing emotions, a little acupressure, and some other amazing self healing techniques that are easy to use. They offered a training course in how to teach the Capacitar techniques not far from where I lived. I told the shelter about the program and they asked me if I would take the training and go back and teach the women there. I took the training and finally found something that worked for me that I could do anytime to nourish and heal myself. For the past two and a half years I have returned to the shelter at least once a month to teach the women there these wonderful techniques as well as other things I have learned to help deal with stress.

The more I teach self healing techniques, the more I learn how to care for myself. I'm not perfect at it, but it has completely changed my life and who I am. I have learned that I am worth taking care of. As I fill myself up, I have more to offer to my children and those around me. I find that the more I teach, the more I use the techniques for myself. Such a simple concept, to nourish oneself, yet such a difficult habit to establish. I am eternally grateful to that counselor who asked such a simple yet profound question of me that day.

What are you doing today to nourish yourself?

http://capacitar.org/emergency_kits.html

Freedom

Three years ago today I made a decision that drastically changed my life: I took my four young children and moved into a homeless shelter for women escaping domestic violence. I had been married for just a little over nine years and was just beginning to admit that life was not at all what I had dreamed it would be. For years I had defended my husband's anger by describing him as "passionate" and had excused, even justified, his poor treatment of both me and the children. For a long time I didn't believe, or couldn't admit, that what I was experiencing was abuse. We were just a struggling couple dealing with normal marriage issues. I was just making a big deal out of things. I wasn't seeing clearly. Those were all things that I told myself, much of it based of what he told me.

Then I began counseling with someone who worked specifically with domestic violence. She showed me a power point that talked about the many forms of abuse (physical, psychological, sexual, verbal, etc.) and how that abuse manifests in a relationship. There was a list of roughly ten different ways abuse manifests in each of the different forms of abuse. As I read through those lists, my heart nearly stopped beating. My husband did at least eight out of the ten things, or all ten, in every category with the exception of physical abuse. I had believed that since he wasn't hitting me that what I was experiencing wasn't categorized as abuse.

As I talked with the counselor she could complete every one of my sentences and could describe him and how he treated me with exactness. I was shocked! How could she understand me so well when what I was experiencing was unique to me? How did she know what I was feeling and experiencing when I was all alone in this experience? The answer was because I wasn't really alone. I was experiencing what one out of every four women in the United States experiences in relationships. I was experiencing domestic violence.

When I left my husband, I was told by people to keep quiet about it, don't make a scene, don't do or say anything that might cause my husband to have problems with his job or his future. So for the next two years as we went through a nasty and terribly painful divorce, I remained quiet. My support system shrank drastically to only a couple of trusted people. People I had loved and trusted while married pulled away from me and sometimes shunned me as they were told many lies about me and why I had left. I had been counseled not to try to defend myself because that would cause contention so I stayed quiet to most people, hoping that over time people would be able to see the truth in the situation. I was judged harshly, and at times persecuted, for my decision to leave the marriage.

For the last three years I have felt very hindered in my ability to talk about my experience. I have no desire to hurt my ex-husband or his family and don't want my sharing to cause anyone to judge them. As I have worked towards healing my life and healing my heart there is much I have learned about myself and life that I have a great desire to share. I have come to realize that there are many, many women out there who have experienced similar feelings to me but don't know how to express them. At this time I desire to share my thoughts and feelings as I have searched and continue to search for who I am.

While married I shut down the true me in order to survive. Now that I am out of the abuse I am experiencing a wonderful kind of freedom, a freedom to become. As I grow and become my true self, I hope I can share some things that will help others on their own journey to become. Join me on this exciting journey to self!