Narcissitic doesn’t fit nicely on a name badge either

From Jen Gray “it’s easy to do. you begin reading other’s blogs and you see how beautiful, cool, and successful their lives are ~and instead of being inspired, you end up feeling like a totally dull and boring loser….hopefully you are able to take a step back and realize most folks are not going to post something about the less charming side of things (let’s face it, it’s a bit more fun to write about the DELISH PIE we just shared with our BEAUTIFUL FRIENDS at an AMAZING CAFE, then it is to write about the pile of bills on the counter or the dirty dishes in the sink)… and these blogs are just a snipit’s of people’s lives. So keep that perspective.”

 Blogs? Hell I do this with women I pass on the street.

 I’ve officially, as of last night, separated from my husband. We no longer share bills, a refrigerator, a car, groceries, my paycheck, a TV, a shower, or a bed. Before last night, sometimes in my darkest moments I would let my mind wander to that last night. That last night where I would lay down on the left side, facing the door and then 8 hours later get up for the last time the next morning and move on to a new, undetermined life alone and never return to those sheets again.  I wondered how that would go and now I know: 

I went to bed alone with my daughter, woke up at 5:00 a.m. anxious to get started moving and I left to clean out our storage shed.  End of story.

Sometimes the reality doesn’t sound so good on paper, much like those cafes and delish pies.

For a long time now my identity has been so intertwined with my husband’s, and rightfully so. I am a wife. I am a mother, a friend, a sister sure, but a wife too. Now (almost) I’m not anymore. I’ll technically still be married but I don’t really consider living in my own house away from him very married, would you?

A wife isn’t the sum part of my being by any means, but it’s pretty engrained in me. I just keep thinking about that. I’m no longer a wife, that title replaced by separated and perhaps one day, divorced. Ugh.

On top of that, it strikes me that all of these frustrations or joys or yearnings or hope for the “ US ” that I have been holding on to for these years,they areall gone.  There is no more reason to hold them.

I’ve been unhappy for awhile, we both have, so I’ve looked very carefully and thoughtfully and studiously at other people’s marriages and relationships about why I’m so unhappy, what we are missing, some clue or justification. I’d get glimmers and think “Aha! That’s what we don’t have! Let’s get some of that!”

But I know all too well these glimmers are never shown by couples during real problems or 3:00 a.m. feedings or when they are overdrawn at the bank. They are couples I get jealous over who coo over each other at parties or during board games for god sake. The couples where you know they fight, but more importantly you know they want each other fiercely.

So perspective? Yes I’d like to order a large one.  It’s not easy to trust myself to be so sure about what I think I need when I’ve been telling myself for 12 years I can do without or I can compromise. I’d rather say “why can’t we be like Mr. ZYQ at that café eating that delish pie?” than think “well, no reason to compare now.”

So what does the future hold for me and all of my labels? This sister/mother/friend/almost divorcee?  Hell if I know. And hell if I think any of those other couples have anything to tell me any longer either.

There isn’t a name badge at the Office Max that can hold all of those labels and there are days when I don’t think I can either.  So I’ll just settle for “Hello my name is Happy.”



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