A second chance
Life rarely works out the way you expect it to.
We all know this sentiment in different ways.
I remember standing across from my soon-to-be husband at our wedding ceremony in Ventura, CA, completely lost in his eyes, oblivious to the golden sun above our head, the rush of the ocean at our side, the small group of loved watching us declare our love for one another. All I could see was him. I remember how happy I was, beaming. We said our vows, and I meant every word. And I know he did too. I remember thinking, we got this. Whatever life throws at us, we got this.
Seven years later, I live alone with the dog we once shared, in a tiny basement apartment that looks out onto a few acres of land cluttered with apple trees and several kinds of flowers.
I never expected to be divorced. To be living alone at my age. To be navigating this new chapter of life while most, if not all of my peers, are getting married or raising kids, settling into their careers and their lives. Being in such a wild transition that’s starkly different from the paths others are on can feel isolating. Almost like I can’t relate to anyone anymore. I feel like I’m the kid who’s just learning how to walk while everyone else is running. It’s weird.
But I’m learning to embrace it.
And I’ve also come to see this new chapter as a second chance.
I took a long time to come into myself, and while I’m still learning to be at home in who I am, I feel very grounded and in touch with myself in ways I never have before. I’ve been in therapy consistently for over a year now, and it’s been the best thing I’ve ever done. Also one of the hardest. Therapy is like swimming against the current. Like you’re taking one step forward and five back. Everything in front of you starts to unravel and you’re left with a mess like a tangled ball of yarn that’s impossible to re-roll. And you’re sitting there in that tangled mess and you’re like, what the actual fuck, this isn’t what I signed up for. Except it’s exactly what you signed up for. Unbecoming everything you thought you were and becoming something else entirely. Therapy is a mirror: it requires you to see yourself for who you really are, all the ugly parts and all the lovely parts. Exposing yourself like that can feel really raw, but once you get past the fear of opening yourself up, there’s a kind of power in it. All of a sudden you see yourself for who you are. Who you really are. And instead of fighting against it, you sit with it, and that’s half the battle. The energy it takes to fight against ourselves is exhausting. We’re not the enemy.
For one reason or another, I was unable to be my authentic, true self in my marriage. I felt like I had to shrink myself to fit into a box I was placed in without my knowing. Isn’t that insane? You’re so out of touch with yourself you can’t even tell when things are happening that go against the grain of who you are? Absolutely wild. Being put into that box was a mix of others doing it to me, and me doing it to myself because I didn’t know I had another option.
The first year of my divorce is hazy at best. I have to think really hard about what happened that year, digging the memories out like sorting through the box buried underneath all the other boxes in the attic. Much of that year was spent in bed as I waited for the house – empty except for the things in my bedroom – to sell. Thank god for Magnus. Not sure what I would have done without him.
Fast forward to today, and I am the happiest I’ve ever been. I’m reaching for all the things I wanted but never thought I could have. I’m working hard to set up this next chapter in a way I truly want, because I can. I will no longer compromise myself. Not for anyone or anything. Life is too short for that. Therapy has allowed me to see myself clearly and in a more confident light than ever before. I watched a podcast about how you can train your brain to manifest what you want, so that’s what I’m doing – putting energy into all that I want and working hard to make it fall into place. The effort you put out comes back to you.
How lucky am I to get a second chance at life?
I don’t think you have to go through a life-altering thing like a divorce to reach out for that second chance. I think it can be as simple as recognizing that the house or job you are in no longer serves you. It can be as simple as trying a new hobby you’ve wanted to for a while but didn’t have the guts. It can be as simple as saying “no” more often. It can be a million things, big or small. Life is fluid. We’re not stuck. We can change things up. It can be scary but so is getting stuck and regretting the inaction later on. I was complacent for a long time, so I know how easy it is to get and stay stuck. But that can’t be an excuse — not for me and not for you. You’re doing a disservice to yourself and to this gift we’ve been given —life— if all you do is sit and watch it go by.
Change is hard. My god it’s so hard. It’ll take everything in you and then some. I’m in this now. Doubts and fears will be your constant shadow; people won’t understand, or they’ll judge or think you’re being foolish. But their reactions have more to do with them, their experience and their limitations, than it does with you. You have to tune them out. You have to feel confident that you know, better than anyone, what is best for you. Because you do! It’s your life.
Beautiful! You inspire me, Jenn!
Wow. You hit the existential nail on MY head! That’s exactly how I felt leaving a tenured position at a university, left the state Id lived in my whole life and started again. I look forward to reading more about your journey through this newer transition and the ones to come!
I love love love this blog! You my dear, are headed to some big and beautiful things! Love you!
I love you and I am so proud of you!!! I admire you and all the courageous choices you have made!