Name Change

I have a new last name. It is bizarre after 41 years to say the name, write the name, know that it is mine. It is a gift.

I was married last Saturday, November 13 in a small church near our home. If I had handpicked one day out of the year to tie the knot, I could not have picked a better one. The weather was absolutely perfect, around seventy degrees, and if there was a cloud in the sky, I didn’t see it.

Without a doubt, I had given up on this dream ever coming true. About 3 years ago, after a combination of heartbreak, bad luck, and just life, I remember writing in my journal: I am on my own for good, I know it. I have to face that.

I didn’t have some hope off in the distance, I wasn’t writing those words to be dramatic. It was my truth. I knew it in my heart. 

I am writing these words now because I want so badly to give hope to someone out there who feels the way I did. And I want to be so clear that I was in such a low place, as low as one can get. I just remember seeing emails and stories of friends and strangers finding love, bliss, happiness, and it seemed like another species on another planet to me. Depression had an unshakable hold on me, had grabbed me with its tentacles, and pulled me into the shadows and gave me no hope of breaking free. Depression had found me as a result of many things—my childhood, failed relationships, career let downs, and my own self esteem.

Today, my life has changed. It wasn’t just because someone walked into my life and flipped a switch. It was a process of healing, therapy, and friends and family circling the wagons for me. It was a long look at myself and my life, and somehow letting love in—cracking the door enough to give my life another chance.

It was not easy. I can honestly say that the last four years of my life were the hardest because as an adult, I had to face down demons, fears, and patterns that had grown accustomed to living with me. Going through everything through the years was excruciating, but trying to relive the worst parts, dissect them, and then make sense and heal was at times worse. There were things I kept shut away, and it was easier temporarily not to put them out on the table.

My husband (I still can’t get used to saying that!) and I do not have a perfect, flawless relationship. We argue, disagree and sometimes annoy each other to pieces. But we do have an honest respect for one another. And we truly like each other as we are- flaws and all. I have never ever been in a relationship where I was myself. I couldn’t be for one reason or another. (all signs that you are in the wrong relationship). It has alarmed me how at ease I am around him, how I catch myself being totally silly or just effortlessly free.

I have realized that I have settled in the past in so many ways, and I beg of anyone reading this—man or woman—don’t settle. Not in any way, not in one cell of your being. And we all know when we are settling. That inner voice tells us. We just ignore it because we think we don’t deserve better or can’t do better. And you can. 

I have cried happy tears every day since the wedding. I have stopped and relived the happy moments of our wedding a hundred times. One of the greatest joys for me was seeing all the people who circled the wagons for me when I needed it, there with us to witness the fruits of their labor. These were the people who refused to give up on me, who saw the hope of something I couldn’t see. These are the people that built a pathway for me to take to the place I am today.

All the decisions Shea (my husband!) and I made about the wedding were the right ones. We fretted over tradition, family pain, our own beliefs, and of course, all the food and event decisions. I can’t count the number of times we have looked at each other since Saturday and said—it was all so perfect.

So many women- my friends and fellow bloggers and women who read my blog- wrote to me before the wedding and told me to try and slow down on the day of the ceremony, to drink it all in. Several women said they couldn’t remember a lot of the day- it was a blur.

I talked to Shea about this a few days before the wedding. We made a pledge to each other that we would savor the ceremony, really take care to be in the moment and drown out everything else.

As I followed my bridesmaids to the back of the aisle, I took a long deep breath. I looked around at the women who would lead me into the sanctuary. I caught a glimpse of the blue sky as we walked by the open back door of the church. And I watched my dear friends wink and wish me well as they headed down the aisle. I will never forget those moments, or the moment I stood at the back of the aisle and saw Shea’s face just as he saw me for the first moment. We never lost eye contact for a second as I walked down the aisle to him. 

It was one of the most beautiful moments of my life.

It was the beginning of my new life. 

My new life with a new name.

~~We had an amazing photographer at our wedding, the photos won't be ready for a bit. For those of you that asked and want to see them, I will post a link when they are ready. Thank you to everyone for the sweet wishes for our wedding!~~

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You Never Know

I remember this day last year vividly. I woke up slightly relieved. Relieved that Christmas day—the whole season-- was over. I knew there would be remnants of holiday commercials laced with caroling voices, knew that all the decorations in my neighborhood wouldn’t be down just yet, but I knew that at least the day had passed.

I spent last Christmas on my own at my house. Friends had generously offered me multiple invitations, but the thought of feeling like a third wheel was a little overwhelming. While I have friends that are very much like family to me—spending the holidays with a happy couple or family has sometimes in the past left me walking away realizing with a deeper clarity than I would have liked exactly what I do NOT have. And also, I am quite certain I wouldn’t have been the best person to be around even on the best day at that time. It was tough all the way around.

So I suffered through the weeks leading up to Christmas, stayed away from the general public as much as possible, watched DVDs almost constantly to avoid holiday programming and hunkered down to wish it all away. On Christmas Eve, I went to bed early, but still managed to sleep through most of Christmas day, which had been my plan. Go to sleep, wake up, and it’s not a holiday season anymore. It is just another Friday.

A dear friend, who is like my second mother—well she isn’t “like”—she IS my second mother—told me on this day last year that she believed everything could turn around for me, and that this time next year the world was going to look very different. You just never know, she said.

I remember feeling sad when she said that because I was certain of so many things about my future. And I was certain she was wrong.

What is amazing about life is that there is no certainty. That is not always a good thing. We lose loved ones in the moment it takes to catch a breath…and the only certainty is that there was no time for a goodbye and they are never coming back. But the other side of the coin is that no matter how much all signs, occurrences, and logical assumptions line up—a total curveball flies into your life and everything becomes new and the path you are on was one you never could have imagined.

Stepping back, it isn’t exactly a wild curveball from nowhere. One thing leads to another in a chain of events that makes something bigger happen. But the steps are so small leading to it, and there are so many in the chain that it seems to come out of nowhere.

For more years than I can count, I wanted to be a published writer. And this year, after finding a way to pour some of my past pain onto a page, it happened. And that pain then became fuel for something that made a difference in my life—healing me in more ways than one. And then, I found and let love into my life again, which, I am here to tell you, were words I never saw myself writing, thinking or saying again (or for at least good 30 years from now).

Some of it seemed to come out of nowhere. But, the truth is, all the things that happened this year were the end result of events and choices that I couldn’t have planned better.

I brought my dog Bear into my life last January, and he became not just a pet, but a motivating being that made my heart open before all the past wounds closed it completely.

I lost my job, which devastated me, but also made me realize how many hours, days and weeks I had spent working over the last decade. Ridiculous amounts of time gone—never to be retrieved. While some of it was worth it and reasonable for my career, a great deal of it was hiding from life, and letting work be my safe place instead of how I pay the rent.

When looking back on the terrible betrayal and heartbreak I had suffered in 2008, I saw at first only that I attracted horrible people into my life, that I was not worth better, that I had failed somehow. But through all the other realizations, through writing, through friends and through time…I slowly began to understand my value—my worth.

And I found love again because I opened myself to it, and because the person I love helped me take the last steps across that bridge towards trusting myself—and someone else.

It was all a process. A crazy, painful, beautiful process. Planned and unplanned, chaotic and precise.

And more than anything today, a year later, I know this much to be true…

You never know.

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