One year ago...

It’s been a year since the ink’s been dry.

A year ago, I came home from work and checked my mail and proceeded up the elevator to my apartment.  In my mail was a handwritten envelope in my ex’s handwriting.  I had no idea what he could be sending me and I suddenly felt nausea as the elevator climbed to my floor dreadfully slow. Staring at his familiar handwriting with my maiden name written in huge letters, I felt sick.

I opened my door and quickly tore open the envelope.  There it was my final divorcee decree.  There was no accompanying letter, no note, no dear ex-wife I am sorry, just a legal document sealed with both our names listed at top and announcing the divorce was finalized.  And like that it was over.  I never appeared in Court.  No judge or lawyer ever heard the stories of the ways I was wronged and I never got to tell anyone the woes of my broken heart.  He never stood before anyone and took accountability for his actions. I stared at those words that told so little of the story that had been my life and I felt dead inside.

And then all at once, I felt every emotion possible.  I was weak in the knees and I stumbled to the floor.  I lay there staring at this document with uncontrollable tears.  I had spent over a year planning what I believed would be a fabulous wedding.  There were months of preparations, meetings with DJs, photographers, bakers, and planners.  There were family dinners and hours spent making decisions.  There were two months of pre-marital counseling with our pastor prior to our nuptials.  He stood before 130 of our closest friends and family and vowed to always love and protect me….and then suddenly he didn’t want to do any of that. And this paper was all he needed to be done.  File this, sign there, wham bam thank you mam you are single.

He ended it on his terms - with no meetings, with no pastors, with no therapist, with meaningless explanations and with no closure.  All that was left was this silly piece of paper – the legal document that now sealed our fate with the Court system and I felt terribly alone.  He had not even given me the courtesy to know the papers were on the way, to be prepared with a bottle of wine and close friends to get my through that first awful night of being legally divorced.

I remember calling or texting each of my best friends.  I adore my friends and am eternally grateful for the words of comfort that flooded in. In the time from my divorce to present, these five woman scattered across the country have helped me get to where I needed to be. Each one with a different perspective, but a consistent theme, this was the final step I needed to move on, this was an inevitable step of his decisions, I was strong and would be happy again one day.  Just hold on, it’s going to get better they all said. And don’t do anything too crazy!

I did not believe any of them and in a way as much I loved them I felt so terrible alone.  I walked to the wine store, crying, came home and drank until I couldn’t feel the pain.  I woke up the next day with tears in my eyes.  I didn’t feel as if I had slept a single moment.  I prayed for peace and comfort and maybe, just maybe time would truly heal my wounds as everyone had said.

It has officially been a year since I received my divorce papers in the mail.  One year I have been divorced now and I can honestly say I finally feel as if I am back on the right track.  I’m reminded of a quote I once read regarding the path towards Christianity, “I am not where I need to be but thank God I am not where I once was.  I’m okay, I am on my way.” 

That’s how I feel as I look back in this year where the ink has been dry.  I’ve made tremendous progress towards accepting myself, accepting my mistakes, and becoming an independent and happy person.  However, I know as I continue to self-evaluate that I am still not where I need to be in terms of completely loving myself and being at a steady place of peace and happiness.

My friends were right.  Time has helped heal the wounds.  I still get sad.  I still get raging mad sometimes.  But I do not feel nearly as bad as I did that day.  I thought my world was going to be over and I had no idea how I would face the upcoming days.  But I faced them and I continued to move forward and I am so happy that I did.  I faced a choice between becoming a bitter, angry, divorcee or a hopeful wounded dreamer with the courage to pursue happiness.  I am still on my pursuit but I thank God I am not where I once was.