Revealing Grace

Overcoming is a weird thing. You simultaneously want to move along, to forget the bad thing that happened, to be free of the person that hurt you. . . and yet to fully move on and let go brings on an anxiety that is undeniable.  Love is a weird thing. Someone can do the worst to you, beyond what you ever imagined, so much so that you hate every single piece of them. You want to scrub your skin raw, rip up every picture and trace of them, destroy every piece of life that they ever touched. And at the same time, almost against your will, you still love them, still wish they were there for the important moments, still wish things had turned out differently.  Growing up is a weird thing.  It never turns out quite like we imagined it would.  Six months ago my life turned on its head when my husband decided he no longer loved me. Five months ago he left me to be with the woman he had chosen instead and filed for divorce without a single shred of remorse. Ou...

The first time I walked in to meet my counselor a few months ago I felt fragile and uncertain. It was like I had aged a million years and the softest wind would blow me to dust. I was more concerned for his soul than what had been done to me because caring about him was easier than coming to terms with the truth of how he had wronged me.  I was desperately clutching at whatever I could to make sense of it all.  I was stronger than two months before, but there was still a desperation in my eyes that quietly feared what had been and what was to come. For a long time I didn't believe a day would ever come when sadness did not consume me.  But I learned tools to move through the darkness. I learned how to breathe, to ground myself, to relax. I learned to come to terms with my grief, my anger, my questioning. I cried, broken over a sense of guilt that I could have done better. I leaned into every emotion and I let myself feel them all. And then gradually I began ...