Emotions, rocks and loving yourself ❤️

Waves, the emotions come and go like the waves of the ocean crashing on the rocks. The rocks are strong and the sound of the crash can be beautiful however the waves can be unpredictable. I’m the metaphorical rock, I’m the rock for the boys, for my family and the weight of the ocean waves crashing sometimes chips away little pebbles.. every once in a while a big wave crashes so hard that it will break off some of the rock and allow water to run a new path..although I’ve processed a lot of what’s happening in life the waves of emotions are unpredictable and are constantly evolving.

 Walking in the mall and smelling a certain scent can bring me to tears, writing the date of an amazing memory can take my breath away, heading into my 35th year of life alone is a gut punch. I’ve grieved the marriage I had, I’ve had the magic and the mayhem, I know what it’s like to have the fairytale romance, the passion and companionship of your best friend.. I also know what it’s like to not trust your spouse to run to the grocery store, going crazy trying to balance stories with reality and feverishly searching phone bills for clues. 

The waves of reconciling these emotions are evolving like the love for myself and the courage to be my own best friend. Just because I’ve grieved the marriage doesn’t mean I don’t have tears rolling down my face when I hear a certain song, it doesn’t mean I don’t miss the person I fell madly in love with. It just means I’m allowing myself to feel, to be human and to continue to grieve. 

I’ve had people ask me, “so how can you share so much and be transparent”.. I share because these complicated emotions of life are best sorted out knowing you’re not alone. I remember the loneliness I felt even while surrounded by people, I don’t want others to think they’re alone on their journey of life. I also don’t share in real time, by the time a blog is published I’ve had time to process my emotions and share. 

No matter who you are, no matter where your journey of life is taking you, you’re never alone. ❤️learn to love yourself and you’ll never be alone. 

Perfect Disaster, Recovering!

I’m a recovering perfectionist, I’m a woman who knew how to make things beautiful and perfect for a party, photo op or event.. I’m the woman who ironed sheets on the spare bed in case anyone ever stayed over, I’m the girl who perfectly plated food for a dinner party. I’m the girl who drowned in perfectionism.

I was the woman who would volunteer to have an event at my home, to plan the baby shower and make the wedding cake. I was the woman who stayed up at night with anxiety that my home, decorations or cake wouldn’t be perfect. I was the woman who felt like I had a stomach of ulcers from anxiety, fear of being flawed.

I’m the woman who ironed sheets on a bed that nobody stayed in because I had too much anxiety to have houseguests. I was worried my home wouldn’t be up to par, that I’d have to entertain and wouldn’t have time to just be me. I wasn’t fake but I was "perfectionist Valerie", it was exhausting.

I’d perfectly plate dinner party food or make sure every single piece of flatware was perfectly matching, every piece of bake wear coordinated with my centerpiece.. I wouldn’t eat with my guests because I was too anxious about them needing something and I had a stomach ache from stress of company.

I was literally drowning in my own shitstorm of perfectionism, I was telling the world things were perfect when in reality the shattered glass house was visible. I was protecting everyone else at the expense of myself, of my self worth and my sanity..

After the virtual tornado that came through the life I’d known over the past two years I decided to recover. That’s weird, right? "I’ve decided to recover".. it sounds very "woo woo" and a bit self indulgent but in reality it is accepting that life, nor myself, are perfect and that I don’t want to be. Does it sound fun to live under this perfect cloud, worried that straying out from under it would cause the thunderstorm. "Wake up woman", enjoy the life, clouds, sun and rain.. because one day it will be over. When it’s over nobody will give a shit about the sheets, the house or the dinner parties.

I will tell you what happened when I let the perfectionist go.... I found peace, I found peace in letting my kids wear what they want, peace in saying I need help, peace in the mismatched furniture, peace in being present. Read that again mom, peace in BEING PRESENT! I’ve stepped back from my business to BE PRESENT! I’ve set professional boundaries to BE PRESENT! I was worried at first that stepping back from my business would hurt sales, they have but it’s enriched my heart and the lives of my boys because I’m more able to BE PRESENT! I’ve eliminated the clutter of life, you know, the friends who are only here for their gossip update... the "stuff" that clutters your mind when you could just BE PRESENT.

I care more about the experience, memory and fun we will have and less about a perfect face of makeup or the most amazing clothes. Don’t get me wrong, I love to get dolled up and feel good about myself when I’m "put together". I’ve however come to the realization that even with a bare face, hair in a bun while wearing workout clothes, I’m the same damn person as when I spend an hour on hair and makeup while dressed to the nines! Love yourself, every version of yourself.

Recently, the boys and I were on the way to an air show and I made a comment about my appearance.. without even thinking of the little ears in the back seat. My youngest piped up and gave me a metaphorical slice of humble pie! I leave you with my social media post from that day and ask.. or beg.. I beg you, LOVE YOURSELF, the you that is under the perfectionist, the you that’s under who others want you to be. Dig deep, find the "you" that you enjoy, be her!

"I’m a recovering perfectionist..a mom who is learning to enjoy more organic true moments and stop trying to create those perfect moments. I’m a mom who will gladly leave the house without makeup, the mom who will blow dry my hair with the windows down (like yesterday) despite my skin imperfections and unruly locks, the boys laughed hysterically as my hair whipped in the wind.. I will try to catch butterflies out the sunroof, I will care less about the spilled gatoraid in the cup holder, I will laugh at farts and poop jokes, I will sing like there are two kids watching.. I will remember that I’m their role model and I should curse less, cuddle more, be honest even if it hurts and love who I am! I said, "oh gosh I look terrible in that photo" and the little voice in the backseat said, "mom, that makes me sad because that’s my favorite picture of you".. Valerie, be more present, less perfect...whatever perfect is anyway ❤️" - May 27, 2019

2018

2018 started with me rubbing my exhusbands back as he withdrew from opiates for the first time. Watching him through the night as he shook, shivered and sweat profusely...I remember listening to the fireworks go off outside and worrying they’d wake the kids to see their daddy so sick... it started as hours and hours of withdrawals and turned into days.. we came out at the end of the tunnel,I saw a glimmer of the man I married many years ago..I saw happiness in his sober eyes but I also saw immense pain and sadness.. pain that he’d been living a lie, sadness that he almost lost everything due to the addiction.

His last pill was December 31st, 2017, I had faith that 2018 would be AMAZING and that we would be celebrating our next New Years celebrating a year of sobriety!! It would be a new start for him, for his health, for our families happiness.. that hope was shattered as he tested positive again in June and again in August, he relapsed again in October.. the lying continued and became worse.. looking back I’m not sure there really was any sobriety..

2018 was supposed to be the new start, not the end of our era. You see, he and I permanently separated in November but it was April 2018 when I knew It was the end of the marriage I knew, nurtured and hoped would last a lifetime. Looking back it was probably even prior to that but I stood by, I tried to love the addiction away.

Separation, It doesn’t mean I’ve abandoned him, he’s the man I married, had children with and built a life with..it means I’ve untied the rope that’s pulling me below water, I’ve had to make the choice to let him sink or swim for himself... I’ve tried to help him, tried to do it for him, tried to push him, controlled every aspect of our lives in an effort to force him into the right direction.

He was in a program, he was working on himself, I was working two jobs to support our family and I was absolutely content to do this until it became clear that he was using again, lying, draining our family financially, emotionally and physically... and that I wasn’t upholding my end of the bargain.. I realized that by allowing him a warm, soft place to land while he would make choices that would negatively effect the boys and I wasn’t in the best interest of any of us.

Did I want to tell my husband of 12 years to pee clean or leave?

Did I want to tell him that this is no longer his home?

Did I want to deliver the heartbreaking news to our boys that daddy isn’t living here anymore?

Did I want to have a locksmith come and change all locks?

Did I want to have a family meeting and disclose the secrets I’d feverishly kept for him to his sobbing family?

Did I want to have to apologize over and over to my family and friends who he’s wronged?

Did I want to have to go to the court house and get an order preventing him from having the kids without supervision?

Did I want to have to meet with numerous attorneys to finalize a separation and protect my kids and I.

Did I want to have to watch him slip farther away from the person I knew? Did I want to watch as my kids begged to see him only for him to "no show" again?

Did I want to take my kids to counseling and tell them the deep truths?

No, HELL NO! This is not the life I chose, this is the life that he chose and unfortunately the boys and I were collateral damage. There were moments I felt I’d lost everything, my family, my business and my marriage that I one time so deeply believed in. My thinking has really changed in recent months and I’m insanely lucky to have this life, to have healthy boys, to have a good job and provide for them. It hasn’t been easy but my boys have never had to leave their home, they’ve not switched schools or been without. 2018 isn’t the year that defines our family but it was the final moment as a family of four. I’m also lucky to be able to share my story and help others, the loneliness you feel while supporting an addict is unexplainable.

Where do we go from here? The boys and I are on a path of honesty, openness, healing and new traditions. My best friend recently bought us a journal for memories, I’m sure among the memories of night swimming, waterfights and family there will be memories of missed birthdays, holidays and "donuts with dads".

State of Addiction

State of addiction, that’s what they call it..That’s what the news focuses on, they routinely talk about stats and share stories about the state of addiction. Addiction is an epidemic in our state and it’s necessary...my issue is that it’s talked about like it’s a state of being. They talk about it like it’s temporary, as if it’s as simple as being pregnant, or sleeping. Often they highlight people who have come out on the other end, rarely people in the middle of the shit storm and that’s the true state of addiction. 

I call it devastation and heartbreak, it’s not a state of being but rather a feeling of loss and emptiness.. grieving and mourning the person he once was even though he’s alive. Mourning your dreams and stowing away your memories of the good times so you see something other than a drug addict. Learning not to promise your kids anything knowing that he won’t be available. 

Gut wrenching pain is not a state of being, it’s watching your children miss their father and wish for him to pick up the phone, send them a text or ask for a visit. It’s sitting in a restaurant for two hours waiting for him to light up their world only to muster the strength to carry two sobbing boys to the car.. It’s the sorrow of a seven year old who cries himself to sleep in my arms almost every night, it’s a ten year old who doesn’t want to go to the art show at school because he wasn’t able to invite his dad, because he never called. It’s two boys who’s childhood has been robbed no matter which way you look at it, that is not a state of being, its a terrible reality. 

The financial burden and drowning in debt you had no idea about isn’t a state of addiction, it’s not a glamorous news segment.. it’s what keeps me awake until 3am most nights. The reconciling of who I knew him to be vs what he is now is something I just don’t understand. In fact, I constantly ask myself "how did we get here?".. I ask myself, "what made him take that one pill that started it all".. "was our life and boys childhood not worth it", "why did so many sit in silence and not speak up to help him sooner" and the biggest one of all, "why did I believe him for so long".

D.A.R.E- The details of addiction are scary, they’re not something we as society talk about in depth. Sure, a short segment on the evening news or a class in school but nothing, NOTHING prepares you for this life.D A R E is Drug abuse resistance education, was it a program pounded into our heads as kids, yes! They teach you, "just say no". That’s a great start but they don’t teach you what to do if it happens, it’s as if yelling a pregnant teenager, "abstinence is the way" when she asks for guidance on her upcoming delivery.  

State of addiction, it’s finding pills stashed in your couch, it’s finding a hole in your mattress with a hidden bottle, it’s finding burnt foil months after he moved out. A state of addiction is a lifelong battle, it’s coparenting with someone who has no grasp on daily life. It’s your kids hearing from someone at school that their dad is doing bad things, it’s finding out how many family and friends you have to apologize to for something you didn’t do. Its your children asking you why we can’t go back to the way it was. Its asking myself, how long have I been lied to. Its hoping one day he wakes up and sees how amazing his kids are, so amazing that they’re worth being clean for. It’s hoping I get a call that he’s been admitted to rehab.. 

A train wreck...the heartbreaking state of addiction is watching a train wreck about to happen while frantically trying to pull the brakes, brakes that someone else has control over. One day I decided to grab my babies, tuck and roll and jump off the metaphorical train..the fall was hard, the pain of getting up was difficult but learning to stand again is liberating. 

A guide to separation

How long have you been married? "We’ve been together almost fourteen years and will happily celebrate 12 years in June" used to be my answer. Now, I don’t even know how to answer that, we aren’t divorced and are legally separated but I don’t feel like a married woman.. so I can say, "well we’ve been married 11 years but are separated" but that’s so confusing... that’s the LEAST of the confusion in my daily "how do I navigate this" type feelings. 

This is titled the guide to separation but honestly, I have no clue what I’m doing.. I can tell you what’s helped and what hasn’t.

One day I will share the pain I’ve endured, what we as a couple have gone through and how I’m working through it daily. One day I will share my deep hearted truth, today isn’t the day for that post. It is however the day to discuss how people treat us going through this difficult journey.

1. The "I’ve had it worse" people.. these are the people who no matter how much you try to pour your heart out when you need them reply with, "well, I did It with four kids", "yup, I’ve been working 50 hours my whole life, welcome to my world", "well, at least your parents can help you", "your lucky there’s not infidelity", "mine were toddlers when I divorced, you’re lucky yours are older"... first off, this isn’t a competition of bleeding hearts, it’s not about who had it worse, how much worse it can be.. this is my life right now, I’ve reached out or said something because I looked to you for support.. "you’re doing great", "things will be okay", "how can we help", "this is a season and will pass", "I’m glad you’re being strong".. these are acceptable things to say, even an "I don’t know what to say" is better than the previous comments.. and yes, theses have all been comments made to me..

2. The people who tell their version of my story.. STOP, this isn’t about you.. this isn’t about a gossip session with your friend, neighbor or hairstylist.. this isn’t about how you feel I’ve been wronged.. let me tell MY STORY when I’m ready, I have two little boys to protect from some of the truths about what has happened. I also need to process this before I’d like to share details, and learning whom I can share those with is difficult. I live in a small town, people talk, word of my separation and the circumstances spread like wildfire before I even had a chance to tell  friends myself.

3. Don’t drive my bus.. I understand I may not do things the way you would, I may go slower than you desire or I may make choices you don’t like.. TOUGH COOKIES, this is my journey, my speed bumps and my bus to drive. I compare navigating a separation to navigating a snowy icy road, it’s easy to read a map or give someone directions when you’re not in the driver seat. Please stop telling me what I could have, should have or what you would have done.. I’m doing MY BEST with the situation I’ve been handed...please, sit down, buckle up and let me drive! 

4. Don’t bash my husband.. yes, I called him my husband.. as much as I don’t feel like a married woman, I also don’t feel like a divorced woman.. please don’t bash him, I know who he is and what he has done, remember I lived that life every single day.. Your bashing doesn’t help me see who he is, it helps me understand who you are.. my kids are part of him, and I’m forever grateful for that, I’m grateful for the "old him" and I’m thankful for the memories we have.

5. Grieving a marriage you once knew is like grieving a death.. even if we reconcile and move forward, the marriage we once had and the trust may never ever be the same. We won’t ever be the "old us" if we go back there.. the hopes, dreams and plans for the future may never be the same. Thinking of the plans we had for raising our children is like looking into an old broken mirror, you can see the silhouette but the cracks distort the details... can that be repaired?

Be kind, be firm and be direct, those are lessons I’ve learned during my separation. There is no winner in this situation, we all lose.. it’s how we deal with the loss that will help develop our future.

I love time with you, I need time with me!

I’ve joked before that I’m an introverted extrovert, I think it’s really a thing. I like hanging out with friends, I also enjoy being alone.. I enjoy the sounds of nature and silence of humans, I enjoy back porch sitting listening to the birds, frogs and watching lizards scurry across the ground. 

I enjoy the rhythm of my own heart when I hear nothing else, I enjoy the sound of a paint brush when I’m in deep thought. It’s almost therapy to sit quietly and let my thoughts float onto the piece I’m painting, the plant I’m weeding or the smoky eye I’m trying to achieve. I enjoy the "me" time. 

Some people enjoy going for cocktails, pedicures or shopping to relax and de stress, I enjoy being barefoot and getting grounded in my own home. It’s hard to explain to people that I’d rather not go to dinner, I’d rather make a beautiful dinner in my kitchen with giggles from my kids in the background. 

I’m learning that I don’t need to explain why, it’s a bit difficult to explain anyway..I’m an odd soul, I don’t enjoy entertaining, I don’t enjoy house guests, I’m a bit of a purest when it comes to my home...and by that, my home is a pure chaos, unfolded laundry and probably dishes to be done.. but it’s complete, it is where I am grounded and when I truly feel like myself. 

When daddy died

25 years ago I was an almost 9 year old little girl, without a care in the world. I was silly, dramatic (imagine that), and enjoyed barbies and make believe. I went to bed on May 9th like any other night, kissed my mom, step dad and brothers goodnight (I probably fist bumped the boys because...germs)... I woke up for school, I was a third grader at the time, got dressed in my favorite dress and was shocked to see my grandparents sitting on the church pew in our kitchen. 

My grandparents were visibly upset, I had never seen my grandfather cry until that day. He asked my brother and I to sit down with he and my grandma, we did. My parents joined us on this church pew, we sat in silence, it felt like minutes went by before my grandpa told us the news that my dad had suffered an asthma attack and passed away. I still remember that lump in my throat, the empty feeling in my stomach, I think I almost vomited, my world shattered. I’m not sure if scientifically your heart hurts after something like this but I remember the feeling of someone sitting on me, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I remember thinking, "I have to be strong, I have to be there for my grandparents, parents and brother".. that’s the moment I took the world on my shoulders. I lost my daddy, the man who taught me to swim at our apartment, the man who taught me to dance on his feet, the man who spent hours braiding my hair Saturday nights for church on Sunday, the man who made macaroni and tomato sauce and watched Rescue 911 on the floor with us....the man who told me he would make sure we were always safe. He was a firefighter, he was our real life hero..

I wasn’t only dealing with the grief of losing my daddy, I was unsure of how to cope, process and not hurt my step dads feelings that I missed my dad so much. My parents divorced when I was young, my mom remarried when I was 6 and my dad was engaged when he passed. I remember thinking, I can’t cry on Father’s Day, it’s my step dads day, I don’t want to ruin it, I took this burden as a 9 year old little girl. I’ve realized over the years that this isn’t a burden anyone else put on me, it’s not a sadness anyone told me to keep inside, it was the start of my anxiety, my people pleasing and it was due to what my heart went through. It’s only now, as an adult, that I’ve realized...just because I was given two dads doesn’t make the loss of one any less painful just as if someone who loses a child doesn’t hurt less because they have two other children. 

It’s been 25 years since my world was rocked, my life was forever changed and my daddy went to heaven..still, not a day goes by that I don’t ask "what if".. "what if he hadn’t decided to burn weeds", "what if he had been treated without malpractice?".. the what if’s have consumed me for many years, they still do. Now, as a mother and wife, I am overly anxious and cautious, my biggest fear is my children growing up without a parent.I think this is the only photo I have with all of my grandparents, parents and brothers..the men who made sure I was safe, knew how to change a tire, shoot a gun, bait a hook, write a letter and fix anything with duct tape... I married a man who understood my pain, understood my grief and who loved me even with with a damaged heart.