Awakenings

Before the ending of my marriage, I began to dig deep and confront myself about what I really felt and what I wanted my life to be like instead of simply getting through each day with as little conflict in my marriage as possible.  I began to blog privately which helped me to find the truth in myself and also set direction and gather strength in what was inevitably my conviction to leave.  I believe this sort of self-discovery is something everyone should do from time to time. I also believe that if in a committed relationship that both parties should do this and then share, perhaps annually if not more often.  A regular “tune-up” so to speak.   The hardest part of this is being truthful while not being judgmental with both yourself and your partner.  The uncomfortableness of that though is well worth the rewards of the trust and closeness that can be gained by being willing to think about and talk about the things we don’t really want to face.

This is one of my early journal entries that I would like to share with you:

What is that rumbling in my heart?  It almost brings tears to my eyes I am so moved by the thoughts racing through my mind. Thoughts that are driven by my heart and soul.  As I’m trying to figure out what’s going on, the revelation of the fact that those longings and emotions come from my heart and not my head hits me like lightning.  The sleeping beast in my heart is awakening and demanding to be heard over the constant  rule of my head

What lives in my heart is really a wild and beautiful beast.  Untamed and passionate.  Curious, intelligent, independent in nature and highly sexual – like a cat  At the same time – restless and soaring and able to see the bigger picture – the possibilities… like a raptor.   I’m trying to think of any other creatures that might be likened to my spirit, my energy, but none come to mind as accurately as these two at the moment.  A winged cat?  Strange.  I think I’ll get back to that later.

Put to rest about ten years ago, my heart was given orders to be quiet and stop making trouble.  A deal between my head and my heart was made that when the kids were old enough the heart could be more  in charge again.  Free to seek what would make it happy again – just not at the peril of small children.  And in the time that passed some healing happened to the deep wounds made by arguments, disappointment, sadness, frustration.  They say time heals and to a point, it does. Or maybe it just deadens the pain and feeling like thick scar tissue.  With the passage of time we mature, hopefully gain some wisdom, learn to compromise.

But time did not tame my heart.  It is stirring and making noises again.  Requiring me once again to re-examine what I want from life.  What is important to me?  Do I want to merely exist in this way of life that I know that has become comfortably numb?  I think not.  I mentioned recently that I was “thriving in spite of myself” because of the type of relationship I have.  I think not. Not really.  I am not “thriving”… I only feel like I’m getting by with safety, security and companionship.  Is that enough? There is no intellectual or spiritual or sexual stimulation in this marriage.  Is that how I want to be until I die?  What happened to my needs, wants, desires, passions?    Are they to be traded in for mediocre comfort and a feeling of stability?

I know I am free to pursue most of my interests within the confines of my marriage.  But that is not much different than living alone and entertaining myself except for the fact that within this marriage there is someone to take care of me financially and provide the love and loyalty that I’ve always needed and wanted but never had before (except from my parents). Those things are important to me and it’s scary to think of being without them.  I know I’m part of a pair, but so often I feel very alone. For twenty years I’ve had recurring dreams where I suddenly realize I haven’t been on a date in ages and I feel very single… there is no subconscious recognition of being married.  Is this meaningful?  It has always felt compelling when I wake up and look over to see that there is a man in my bed and I am indeed married to him.  I don’t feel connected to him in the way I want to be connected to a mate.  I usually feel very deflated and sad then. Like I’m stuck with the situation.  I hate being stuck. But I have obligations so I let it go again for a while.

My heart is gathering strength. That is certain.  My head is still strong and logical. A new deal has been struck. It is a deal of time, patience and preparation.   I know there is no rush. There is no crisis.  However, I’m beginning to emerge from the fog, the anesthesia, and beginning to pay attention to what is important in my heart and soul – for now and the future.  I know I want more – lots more.   Time to clean house, put my affairs in order, re-assess, and prepare to live the way I truly want to LIVE and not just exist.  When the time is right, I will be ready.

UPDATE

I did end up leaving my marriage soon after writing this. Thankfully, I was 100% certain that divorce was the correct decision because of how he tried to manipulate me to return to him. Once I made it completely clear that not only was I not going to return, I was also going to seek (against his wishes) what I was legally entitled to, including my half of the pension that had been created and funded during our marriage – he became extremely hostile towards me. He felt the pension was his alone because he had earned it and I believed we both contributed to the running of our household in equally valuable ways. It was a partnership, regardless of who brought in more money. The law prevailed. I had my freedom and what was lawfully mine.

Since leaving that marriage, my life has been filled with free-spirit adventures, immeasurable self-development, outrageous experiences, wonderful mentors and delightful new friends, better relationships with my children and…. eventually (when I was ready) the most amazing, wonderful partner I could ever ask for.

Be wild, be free, and live your dreams ~ Rachel Monet