Lately I've been thinking I should pursue acting. Seems I've picked up the skill of being able to cry on command: in my cube, in my car, while cleaning my bathtub, in the middle of Target, while listening to Duffy's Rockferry album ... But then this song, although it made me cry, it gave me hope, too. Whatever happens, this is not the end of my life. As hard as it can be, and as much as I don't want to, I'm moving forward.
So, in the spirit of hope and moving forward, I've finally compiled my independence bucket list. It's by no means complete; I'm sure I'll think of more things about five minutes after I hit "publish."
Here we go. Things I want to be able to do on my own:
- Be able to cook dinner for myself at least once a week. Pasta dishes where you boil the pasta and heat the sauce do not count. Neither does salad from a bag, or grilled cheese.
- Explore a foreign city all by myself
- Shed my divorce weight
- Change a tire
- Paint a room
- Take a self-defense course. It’s not so much that I want to take the course by myself, but I figured saying I want to be able to take down a guy with my elbow needed a little explanation.
- Sew on a button (pathetic, I know)
- Go to a movie theater alone
- Change a diaper (also pathetic)
- Cook meat on a barbecue grill (I'm scared I'll start a fire)
- Figure out the HTML in my newsletter at work
- Move to a new city
Further suggestions are welcome. I'm not giving myself any kind of deadline, but I promise to blog as I complete things.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Living with Regret
I've struggled all weekend to figure out what to say here. Bear with me, as this is probably going to come out stream-of-consciousness style.
I'll start with something positive: My blog has a new look, complete with playlist! It pretty well lines up to all my old posts, although I doubt anyone but me will ever go back to an old post and fire up the corresponding song (also, the supply of Christian music on playlist.com is woefully inadequate). I often think about what song would be playing if my life were a movie, and I truly believe music can be healing, so I'm glad to finally incorporate music into my blog.
Okay, here comes the hard stuff. I've written a little bit about regret. About the many things I wish I'd done differently in my marriage and my separation. About how much I wish I could go back and change things. And about how I'm struggling to find the "right" amount of regret - an amount that's not letting satan take over my heart, but that still keeps me in check to avoid making the same mistakes. I'm still struggling, and I don't really have any wise words to pull myself through right now.
There are several people in my life right now who are going through, filing for, or thinking about divorce. This is really hard stuff to say one-on-one, and I know how much I resisted any advice like this when I was in the middle of a separation, so I'm posting it here. If you're in that situation, I'm happy to talk to you about it more, or you can pretend you never read this. But I hope you'll really think about it.
Divorce seems like a way out. It seems like a means to an end when it comes to pain. It seems like a way to protect yourself. Let me assure you, the pain does not stop once the papers are signed. Not only does it take your heart a very, very long time to heal, but that person will still hold the power to hurt you, intentionally or not. At the moment, I'm convinced he will always have that power, but I'm open to the idea that maybe he won't.
Divorce doesn't just make all your problems go away. It takes two to ruin a marriage, and if you don't work on whatever parts you contributed, the odds overwhelmingly say you'll fail again. Yes, it takes two to change, too, but wouldn't you rather put all that energy into an existing, years-long relationship than start off a new relationship with work to do? Whatever challenges you encountered in your first marriage will almost certainly surface again in marriage 2, 3, 4, etc. The only way to avoid getting your heart broken again and again is to face the challenges and deal with them.
Just in case I haven't been perfectly clear: If I had it to do again, I would not have chosen divorce. I can't begin to describe the pain, the loneliness, the emptiness, the hopelessness. I am grateful for the lessons I've learned, but again, I could have learned those while investing in my marriage. I'm pretty convinced that the only thing that could have saved us is a Christian counselor. If you're in this situation and need help finding someone, please let me know. I fiercely don't want anyone else to have to go through this.
A helpful tidbit I've learned in DivorceCare: God doesn't put us in marriages to make us happy. He puts us in marriages to satisfy His plan. It's our job to be obedient and work through the challenges. I used to justify that God didn't want me to be unhappy. Did I really think He'd give me a life with no pain? Or that every challenge didn't have a purpose?
I found out yesterday that my ex is engaged. My regret boiled over, scalding me and relegating me to a spot on my couch under a blanket for a good 15 hours. By a cruel twist of Facebook, their photos ended up in my news feed. And of course I looked at them -- all of them (don't judge me, you know you would have looked too). Friends, if ever there were a photo of your dreams being shattered, it is your ex-spouse down on one knee in front of another woman. No amount of time, space or healing could have made that moment any less painful. I still know his engagement speech to me, and it kept ringing in my ears. I wondered if he said the same things to her. I have a lot of opinions on his new relationship, but a) this isn't the place for them, and b) I guess it's not my business.
Thank you to everyone who responded to my desperate text message. And I'm sorry to those I know I snapped at. If for nothing else than a reminder to myself, I'll try to summarize your kind words below:
- I'm working through the pain now. All the tears are healing me so that I can have a baggage-free relationship later.
- Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. - Proverbs 3:5
- Happiness is the best revenge because nothing drives people crazier than seeing someone have a good (expletive deleted) life.
- Some people shut down and stop fighting. I am not one of those people.
- Trust me in your times of trouble, and I will rescue you, and you will give me glory. - Psalms 50:15
- The first song on my playlist (Sara Evans "A Little Bit Stronger")
- The nights are the worst. Just get to tomorrow. (Indeed, I couldn't fall asleep until about 4 am, and even then, it was filled with nightmares. But I think I'll be able to leave the house today.)
I think the hardest thing now is that I feel like I've lost the chance to tell him how much I've changed. True, he's been ignoring my emails and texts for months now, but that's a hard reality to deal with. I just hope he doesn't end up hurt again.
I'll start with something positive: My blog has a new look, complete with playlist! It pretty well lines up to all my old posts, although I doubt anyone but me will ever go back to an old post and fire up the corresponding song (also, the supply of Christian music on playlist.com is woefully inadequate). I often think about what song would be playing if my life were a movie, and I truly believe music can be healing, so I'm glad to finally incorporate music into my blog.
Okay, here comes the hard stuff. I've written a little bit about regret. About the many things I wish I'd done differently in my marriage and my separation. About how much I wish I could go back and change things. And about how I'm struggling to find the "right" amount of regret - an amount that's not letting satan take over my heart, but that still keeps me in check to avoid making the same mistakes. I'm still struggling, and I don't really have any wise words to pull myself through right now.
There are several people in my life right now who are going through, filing for, or thinking about divorce. This is really hard stuff to say one-on-one, and I know how much I resisted any advice like this when I was in the middle of a separation, so I'm posting it here. If you're in that situation, I'm happy to talk to you about it more, or you can pretend you never read this. But I hope you'll really think about it.
Divorce seems like a way out. It seems like a means to an end when it comes to pain. It seems like a way to protect yourself. Let me assure you, the pain does not stop once the papers are signed. Not only does it take your heart a very, very long time to heal, but that person will still hold the power to hurt you, intentionally or not. At the moment, I'm convinced he will always have that power, but I'm open to the idea that maybe he won't.
Divorce doesn't just make all your problems go away. It takes two to ruin a marriage, and if you don't work on whatever parts you contributed, the odds overwhelmingly say you'll fail again. Yes, it takes two to change, too, but wouldn't you rather put all that energy into an existing, years-long relationship than start off a new relationship with work to do? Whatever challenges you encountered in your first marriage will almost certainly surface again in marriage 2, 3, 4, etc. The only way to avoid getting your heart broken again and again is to face the challenges and deal with them.
Just in case I haven't been perfectly clear: If I had it to do again, I would not have chosen divorce. I can't begin to describe the pain, the loneliness, the emptiness, the hopelessness. I am grateful for the lessons I've learned, but again, I could have learned those while investing in my marriage. I'm pretty convinced that the only thing that could have saved us is a Christian counselor. If you're in this situation and need help finding someone, please let me know. I fiercely don't want anyone else to have to go through this.
A helpful tidbit I've learned in DivorceCare: God doesn't put us in marriages to make us happy. He puts us in marriages to satisfy His plan. It's our job to be obedient and work through the challenges. I used to justify that God didn't want me to be unhappy. Did I really think He'd give me a life with no pain? Or that every challenge didn't have a purpose?
I found out yesterday that my ex is engaged. My regret boiled over, scalding me and relegating me to a spot on my couch under a blanket for a good 15 hours. By a cruel twist of Facebook, their photos ended up in my news feed. And of course I looked at them -- all of them (don't judge me, you know you would have looked too). Friends, if ever there were a photo of your dreams being shattered, it is your ex-spouse down on one knee in front of another woman. No amount of time, space or healing could have made that moment any less painful. I still know his engagement speech to me, and it kept ringing in my ears. I wondered if he said the same things to her. I have a lot of opinions on his new relationship, but a) this isn't the place for them, and b) I guess it's not my business.
Thank you to everyone who responded to my desperate text message. And I'm sorry to those I know I snapped at. If for nothing else than a reminder to myself, I'll try to summarize your kind words below:
- I'm working through the pain now. All the tears are healing me so that I can have a baggage-free relationship later.
- Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. - Proverbs 3:5
- Happiness is the best revenge because nothing drives people crazier than seeing someone have a good (expletive deleted) life.
- Some people shut down and stop fighting. I am not one of those people.
- Trust me in your times of trouble, and I will rescue you, and you will give me glory. - Psalms 50:15
- The first song on my playlist (Sara Evans "A Little Bit Stronger")
- The nights are the worst. Just get to tomorrow. (Indeed, I couldn't fall asleep until about 4 am, and even then, it was filled with nightmares. But I think I'll be able to leave the house today.)
I think the hardest thing now is that I feel like I've lost the chance to tell him how much I've changed. True, he's been ignoring my emails and texts for months now, but that's a hard reality to deal with. I just hope he doesn't end up hurt again.
Monday, April 4, 2011
2011 World Tour: San Diego
Last week kicked off my Eight States + Greece in Six Months travel marathon. A bit of background about this trip: Special Olympics has World Games every two years, alternating between summer and winter sports (just like the "ordinary" Olympics). This year, World Summer Games takes place in Greece. Each state is governed separately and sends athletes based on a national quota. Those athletes become Team USA. Coaches from across the country can apply for a position, and there's a support team that runs the behind-the-scenes stuff. I am lucky to hold one of the two communications slots on the suppport team. Each World Games year, Team USA converges for a Training Camp, where all the athletes and coaches get to meet each other, train a little and identify any challenges before heading to the main event. This year, Training Camp was in San Diego. (Okay, so maybe that was a lot of background.)
I headed to St. Louis on Saturday for a bridal shower and bachelorette for my fabulous friend, Erin. Since they had rented out hotel rooms for the evening, I figured it made the most sense to crash there and figure out transportation to the airport in the morning. This was all good in theory, until I got up at 6 a.m. Sunday and panicked because air travel makes me a little nervous. On top of that, I was responsible for escorting two athletes to San Diego.
I rushed to get ready and flew down to the Metro station. I was plenty early for the 7:25 train, but I wanted some sort of confirmation I was on the right side of the tracks. Evidently, my face was screaming "CONFUSED!!!" A gentleman I had seen in the hotel lobby told me as much, and I asked if this train would take me to the airport. He said yes. I exhaled.
The train arrived; we boarded. The gentleman asked where I was from, and we engaged in small talk on and off for the next few minutes. Then he told me that actually, there's some construction, so I'd need to get off at Union Station, then take a bus to the CWE, then catch a different train to the airport. He said he'd be doing the same thing, but getting off a few stops before me, and that I was welcome to tag along. I gave him a grateful smile. What would I have done if I hadn't met this nice man?
Oh, crap. Did I seriously just agree to follow a complete stranger, who is riding public transportation at 7:30 on a Sunday morning, away from the only way I know how to get to the airport? Am I just going to follow him anywhere? What happens when we go off course and I want to turn around? Where is he going to take me? When will someone notice I'm missing? I pulled my huge duffel bag a little closer and gave him another smile, nervous this time. Then I cursed myself for being so trusting and gullible.
We got to the first transfer point, and I did hear the train operator say something about getting off for the airport, so I followed the guy off the train. He offered to help me with my bags up a giant flight of stairs, but I declined. "It's not heavy, just awkward," I said, as I struggled to breathe. We got on the bus. I relaxed my grip on my bag. We got off, just like he said we would. I relaxed a bit more. By the time I lugged my stuff down another flight of stairs to wait for the train that would, indeed, take me to the airport, I was sweating in 35-degree weather.
Confident that I was out of danger, I sat on the final train right in front of the guy and hoped he interpreted my uneasiness as general travel nerves. I chatted him up a bit more and learned that his wife had passed away a few years ago, he works the night shift at the parking lot of the hotel, and his car was currently broken down. He had wanted to go to college, but hadn't made it. He has trouble with directions. He is engaged to a lady from Brazil, whom he met on a Christian dating site. Ahhh, there it is, I thought. Thanks, God, for putting him in my life today. My heart literally leapt. I made sure to thank him profusely before he got off at his stop (another 10-minute walk from his house). I got his name, too, so I can write the hotel and let them know what an honest, helpful employee they have. A smile was plastered on my face by the time I met Brock, Lucas and their families at the airport terminal.
I can ride the Metro to the airport (with the help of a guy I wasn't sure I trusted).
The rest of the trip out to San Diego was uneventful. I've written an entire post already, so I'll just give a quick recap of each day of Training Camp.
Sunday
Thursday
We had to meet in the lobby at 3:30 am to catch a bus for the airport. It looked a little something like this:
If you've read this far, you should follow Team USA on Facebook! http://www.facebook.com/SOTeamUSA
I headed to St. Louis on Saturday for a bridal shower and bachelorette for my fabulous friend, Erin. Since they had rented out hotel rooms for the evening, I figured it made the most sense to crash there and figure out transportation to the airport in the morning. This was all good in theory, until I got up at 6 a.m. Sunday and panicked because air travel makes me a little nervous. On top of that, I was responsible for escorting two athletes to San Diego.
I rushed to get ready and flew down to the Metro station. I was plenty early for the 7:25 train, but I wanted some sort of confirmation I was on the right side of the tracks. Evidently, my face was screaming "CONFUSED!!!" A gentleman I had seen in the hotel lobby told me as much, and I asked if this train would take me to the airport. He said yes. I exhaled.
The train arrived; we boarded. The gentleman asked where I was from, and we engaged in small talk on and off for the next few minutes. Then he told me that actually, there's some construction, so I'd need to get off at Union Station, then take a bus to the CWE, then catch a different train to the airport. He said he'd be doing the same thing, but getting off a few stops before me, and that I was welcome to tag along. I gave him a grateful smile. What would I have done if I hadn't met this nice man?
Oh, crap. Did I seriously just agree to follow a complete stranger, who is riding public transportation at 7:30 on a Sunday morning, away from the only way I know how to get to the airport? Am I just going to follow him anywhere? What happens when we go off course and I want to turn around? Where is he going to take me? When will someone notice I'm missing? I pulled my huge duffel bag a little closer and gave him another smile, nervous this time. Then I cursed myself for being so trusting and gullible.
We got to the first transfer point, and I did hear the train operator say something about getting off for the airport, so I followed the guy off the train. He offered to help me with my bags up a giant flight of stairs, but I declined. "It's not heavy, just awkward," I said, as I struggled to breathe. We got on the bus. I relaxed my grip on my bag. We got off, just like he said we would. I relaxed a bit more. By the time I lugged my stuff down another flight of stairs to wait for the train that would, indeed, take me to the airport, I was sweating in 35-degree weather.
Confident that I was out of danger, I sat on the final train right in front of the guy and hoped he interpreted my uneasiness as general travel nerves. I chatted him up a bit more and learned that his wife had passed away a few years ago, he works the night shift at the parking lot of the hotel, and his car was currently broken down. He had wanted to go to college, but hadn't made it. He has trouble with directions. He is engaged to a lady from Brazil, whom he met on a Christian dating site. Ahhh, there it is, I thought. Thanks, God, for putting him in my life today. My heart literally leapt. I made sure to thank him profusely before he got off at his stop (another 10-minute walk from his house). I got his name, too, so I can write the hotel and let them know what an honest, helpful employee they have. A smile was plastered on my face by the time I met Brock, Lucas and their families at the airport terminal.
I can ride the Metro to the airport (with the help of a guy I wasn't sure I trusted).
The rest of the trip out to San Diego was uneventful. I've written an entire post already, so I'll just give a quick recap of each day of Training Camp.
Sunday
This was Lucas’s first airplane ride, so I was glad it was smooth. We connected with the rest of Missouri’s delegates in Kansas City before reboarding. The second leg was kind of long, but also pretty uneventful. Everyone was really excited and talkative at first, but by about an hour in, almost everyone was asleep.
We made it to the hotel, where the athletes jumped right in with Healthy Athletes TRAIN screening. Then it was time for dinner. The room was decorated beach-party style. We enjoyed guest speaker Rafer Johnson, who won a gold medal in the 1960 Olympics and helped start Special Olympics Southern California. The athletes all sat with their teams rather than their states, and they were encouraged to bond as Team USA. Several rounds of “USA! USA! USA!” helped ease that right along. Then it was time for the Torch Run, and our own Lucas got to run in with an officer from San Diego PD!
Monday
I must depart from the account of Training Camp to show you maybe the coolest thing California has to offer: a cart escalator. Okay, so apparently there's a Target in St. Louis that has one of these, but Michele and I stood there with our jaws hanging to our knees, then quickly both whipped out our cell phones for pictures. *Sigh.* I am such a Midwesterner.
Back to camp. I started off the day at cycling. They were at this cool venue called Fiesta Island, which is a big park for fishing/kayaking/cycling/walking/dogs. I spent most of my time in the back of the lead van, hanging out the open door and shooting pictures while I kept an eye on the five stronger cyclists to make sure they all stayed together. These guys are really good, and most of them have big personalities, which made them fun to be around. One guy repeatedly asked to see my socks. I have no idea why.
Next, I headed to the golf course. It’s actually right by the hotel where we stayed. I immediately found Mike and Jeff from Missouri – great to see familiar faces! I was able to get pictures of all the golfers without getting nailed by a golf ball (although I guess one guy nearly took me out) or kneeling in goose poop (all over one of the holes). One of the guys had been doing pretty well but not hitting the ball like he wanted. While I was watching, he finally got the hit he wanted … and landed in the bunker. He was happy anyway.
Monday evening, we had a fashion show. It was really fun to see all the cool stuff Team USA will be wearing. The cyclists probably have the most professional looking outfits, but golf is by far the flashiest. Check out the Loudmouth pants Jeff was modeling! There were two beauty queens on hand to escort the athletes, which they loved (that's Brock on the far right).
Tuesday
I spent Tuesday all over the SDSU campus. It is absolutely gorgeous – palm trees, flowers, valley/hill views. I took a quick walking tour to familiarize myself with the layout, then headed to softball. Got a few pictures of them practicing catching, and then they wanted to take a break so told me to catch up with them after lunch at the batting cages. Next I headed to bocce but got there right as they were eating lunch. I hung out with them for a bit and listened to their nutrition session. They have an athlete who has lost 66 pounds! She is very well spoken on portion size.
After that, I went back to softball, but somehow managed to show up in the last 10 minutes of their practice again. They let me get into the batting cage with them. I crouched down beside the coach, who was throwing up balls for them to swing at. It was actually kind of terrifying but produced great results. I wish I could have been there longer.
Tuesday night, everyone went to the SDSU baseball game. Because of traffic from a soccer game (Mexico vs. somebody … who watches soccer?!), we missed the first pitch. (Seriously, traffic was so bad that the skycam was covering it and it took up at least three minutes on the local news.) However, Team USA made up more than half of the audience which was really cool to see. Pretty much every time they shot to the crowd on the jumbotron, it was some of our athletes dancing. I hope the baseball players could feel the love from our athletes. This athletic department has been amazing in sending out their teams to train with ours, so it’s nice to be able to support them as well. Below, proof that the two communications ladies did spend some time without a camera in front of their faces.
Wednesday
Wednesday, I had the car to myself, and I managed to navigate the California freeway with no incidents. Well, unless you count taking the wrong exit and then having to complete an entire cloverleaf to get back on track. I hear I'm not the only one who made that mistake, though. I swear, the roads are just confusing.
I spent most of the day at SDSU again, catching a few last photos to fill in what we were missing. The distance runners on the track team were competing in an Amazing Race-style scavenger hunt, so I tried to video that, except then I realized they are runners. So that lasted about five minutes, and then I frantically headed toward the last station to get some of the teams as they received their last clue.
Wednesday evening, we had a Greek-themed closing ceremony. Olympic softball player Amanda Freed spoke, and we got to see some pictures of the Isle of Rhodes, where we'll be spending Host Town before the Games. And then the dance. Oh, the dance. These athletes know how to let loose. Should you dare enter the dance floor, you'll be sucked in and forced to drop all inhibitions. It looks a little something like this:
Thursday
We had to meet in the lobby at 3:30 am to catch a bus for the airport. It looked a little something like this:
We made it to the airport, then to St. Louis, then to my car, then I somehow mustered enough energy to drive home. As soon as I dragged myself inside, though, I face-planted onto my couch. And didn't move. For three days.
Weeks like these remind me why I love my job so much. Seeing these athletes grow, make new friends and experience new things ... it just blows me away. They're worth every late night.
If you've read this far, you should follow Team USA on Facebook! http://www.facebook.com/SOTeamUSA
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