We live in times where forever isn’t forever. It’s a disposable society. We dispose of huge amounts of plastics, packaging and fabrics. We dispose of people, relationships, friendships and associations. We move on. It’s allegedly healthy. However, it is difficult, for me at least, to look into the past and disbelieve what I was told.
Almost eighteen years ago I was told I was everything. I was it. That’s it. We were meant to be together. I was the other half of a union. Fast forward almost seventeen years to a sterile family room in an acute ward, and I was told, “oh mate, I’m done. I’m 110% done.”
I’m finding it hard to forgive the change of heart even though I don’t want to be back in the union. Hearing the same from another man, counting down the weeks of my 1 year anniversary of a crisis moment, is evoking all sorts of anxiety in me.
The problem is I was taught marriage is forever. I don’t want to go backwards. I couldn’t be part of that union again because the blow from that one statement has misshapen me. I no longer fit it. I’m not pining for the person I was with, but I am struggling to trust myself, as I didn’t see the split coming, and I am struggling to fully put my faith in someone else.
I relive the, “110% done,” moment every day. Several times a day. It’s been 11 months and I still wake up and have to remind myself I’m no longer part of a marital union. I’ve had 11 months to break the habit formed in 17 years. That part of my life is over. No one comes into my life and stays. I float from belonging to one cohort and then the next.
I am being inducted to return to work soon as a GP. My experience as a patient is valued, however, I rather harshly judge myself for my previous medical history. My biggest flaw is to find myself imperfect. I cannot accept the perfectly imperfect model as I am reeling from rejection in a relationship that I and my husband, had checked out of over a decade ago.
I miss the safety and security that relationship offered, but instead of those things I have freedom, opportunities and adventures. Some of the experiences I’ve had in the last three months have been a total contrast to what I had in my marriage. I find myself mourning the loss of the predictability, care and protection I had, but freedom, opportunities and adventures come with a price.
My mantra post-separation was there is no love for me. Now I believe there is no unconditional love for me to receive, but I still give my love to my ex-husband, although in a very different way. I mourn the loss of the guy I thought I had. No one loves me without conditions and limits. Relationships for me, are like running hurdles and falling at every single one.
I am trying to reconcile being unconditionally cherished, which was apparently an illusion I believed for nearly two decades, with the reality that I am totally disposable at any given moment, but that’s ok, having the promise of forever smashed is better than any one party being unhappy, right? What else am I totally naive about?
Ultimately, it’s down to me to ground myself. To put the past behind and bravely face forwards in tadasana, mountain pose. Ground my feet, my ankles, pull my knee caps up, squeeze my butt, pull my core up and in, titling the pelvis slightly forward, bring my shoulders down, chin parallel to the floor, palms facing forwards, chest open. Facing forwards, with my eyes closed. I bow to my teachers who have taught me resilience.
This is hard stuff to deal with….
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I know, but I’m up to the task. The warrior in me needs to grow stronger.
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