Finding My Path Again

As I start to write posts here on my fairly new website, thehomeroomshop.com, I might be overthinking what I should share.  After years in the blogging game, then years away from it, I’ve nestled into a comfortable realization that if you write something honest, earnest, and with the intent to help others, you can’t go wrong. It could be tips on repairing an ottoman, how to unclog a sewing machine jam, hosting a Makers’ Party in your shop, or even how to get through cold January days. When I’m drawn into someone else’s take on solving a problem, it’s usually because I’m experiencing something similar in my life and I’m all ears as to how others solve life’s tangles. I readily admit that I don’t know how to solve everything and that other people’s advice may be useful.  And I consider this to be a good thing–still being open to new information, while remaining crystal clear on my own identity and values.

This has been a tough year for me. I hate to even say that because I’ve had a number of tough years and it could sound like a big old broken record. I don’t consider myself one of those people who is always living in the middle of drama. However, I found myself in a vortex of drama for the past eight years. The biggest lesson I’ve learned, not quite mastered, but learned, is that stuff happens to people all the time. Lots or little, it’s not how much happens, it’s how well we can spring back from loss and emotional devastation. I’ve never been that ‘springy’, but I do always eventually spring back.

This one is a doozy. My marriage is dissolving. That’s a gigantic, jagged, hard pill to swallow. After decades of trying to convince myself that it would eventually be ok. I finally faced the fact that it had been dying a slow death and no matter how hard I tried, I could not make it better. I also have recently realized that once I let it all go, I’ll be able to hit that RESTART button. But I’m not quite there yet. I’m being incredibly patient with myself, as well as kind and compassionate. One way to see things more objectively has been to pull back a little and look at myself as if I’m the older sister. How would I show love, care, loyalty, support to this struggling heart? I’m flooded with ways I would show a little sister my strong and reliable support. And then, I try to do that. It feels nice, good, and like I’ll be able to weather this storm.

With the loving support of friends and family, and empowered by reading tons of books about all kinds of relationship issues, and a few years of therapy thrown in, I believe it’s time to take the leap and move forward to see how I can flourish. My son says ‘thrive’ but I like both words. People go through these splits all the time. I really thought it would never be my story. But it is. So now what? When you know there’s no turning back, the ailing body of a dying relationship is never going to get better, what then? In my heart, I believe a fresh start will feel good once I can let go of the dream I had of having a really solid marriage. It never was that. The greatest thing to come from it were our three fabulous, self-sufficient, solid citizen kids. If that was the only good takeaway–then by golly, I’ll accept it gladly. Raising three kids could have ended up disastrously. Somehow we managed to do that right.

As I move on with HomeRoom and all aspects of my business, I’ll still be be going through emotional healing and it may come through sometimes in my writing, new habits, and new adventures. It’s scary at any age, being afraid doesn’t kill us, but not facing the fear and moving forward just might. I’m sharing this little insight here to live my belief that people need to be honest and transparent about life’s rough patches. Nobody wants to know all of the details, but being able to share the fact that life is sometimes really tough, and I’m going to do my best to survive and thrive, might just be able to help someone else going through something. Nobody really needs to know my business, but pretending like all was well when it was absolutely not took a huge toll on me. The need to overshare will soon go away, but for right now, I need to be sickeningly honest to wash away the residue of pretense. Here’s to a fresh, happy, simplified and self aware 2018. Even years seem to work best for me.