Someone once told me that the girl I used to be prior to my marriage and divorce no longer existed. I remember talking about this with my therapist because I was devastated by that statement. I wanted to be that girl again. That is why I left, after all. I missed being the me that was free to make her own choices (well, within the confines of my mother’s parameters). The girl who felt like the world was at her fingertips. No fear, no worries, no doubt. I wanted to be the girl with the simple life again. The girl that was happy.
When I was 16 or 17 years old, I was working at Hollywood Video. While I worked there, I would earn enough money to get my nails done and to buy snacks to watch the movies I could rent for free. My favorite memory during that time was when I would wake up on a summer day and hop on my bike with my CD player in my drawstring backpack, along with a couple of bottles of water, and just ride around my neighborhood. I would put my headphones in, turn the music up really loud, and just zoom down alleys and trek uphill to what seemed like a deserted mall. I’m sure the reason that mall was still open was because of the movies and a couple of shoe stores. Those shoe stores would often get robbed, so they were typically not open during the week. I remember in the middle of the mall, vendors would sell hermit crabs, turtles, and random trinkets. I would just go to look—never buy anything, just look. When I had enough of the cool air, I would get back on my bike and ride back to my neighborhood to get some ice cream from the grocery store right across the street from Hollywood Video, maybe some popcorn too, then grab a couple of movies. I’d lock myself in my room with my snacks and DVDs and just enjoy life. I remember watching The Notebook and crying so hard and feeling so deeply that I thought my chest was going to explode. I watched The Aviator, Big Fish, and so many other movies that were popular during that time. I don’t remember them all, but I do remember feeling free. That was the girl I wanted to be again after I left my husband.
The issue is though, she was a girl…I am a woman now.
I started thinking, well, what do I do now? I felt lost for a while. I can’t be the girl I was. I’m not married anymore, so who am I? What was all this for, if I can’t be who I was before?
I had to grieve her. That little girl didn’t exist anymore. I had no other reference because I’d been with him for over half my life. There is no longer anything to get back to that didn’t involve him.
During my marriage there were several times that little girl tried to break free. I mean yes, I tried to leave several times, but I’m talking about the times I tried to allow myself to have fun without worrying about the consequences. I remember a few times when I went out with his sisters. When I came back retelling the night, he was upset that I wasn’t presenting myself like a married woman. He would even imply that I was trying to be more than friends with one of his sisters. Why I all of a sudden became a closet lesbian…your guess is about as good as mine.
He would shame me into thinking that I wasn’t being a good wife. Putting fun over my responsibilities as a wife was poor judgment and irresponsible. I would be reprimanded for weeks. That little girl who wanted to come out and play was afraid. So she stayed hidden.
Over the years I neglected her and tried to become who he envisioned for us—straight and narrow. Because maybe he was right. This is the way we live out our dreams. But our issues always seemed to get in the way of my dreams…not his. The young girl who was wild and free at one point dreamt of being a successful businesswoman, maybe traveling the world, being someone important. But I wasn’t allowed to live like that. If I brought work home, I wasn’t prioritizing my family. If I sent too many exclamation marks to a man in an email, I was obviously trying to send a signal that I was interested. If I wanted to go to corporate events, I had to bring him or I couldn’t attend.
My aunt told me one time that in a dark room, my light can fill every corner. She went on to say that he is like a blanket trying to cover up the light inside of me. I believed that because I could see myself being trapped under a blanket kicking and pulling and never able to escape.
When I decided to get a divorce, I was ready for that little girl to come out and play! I wanted to ride my bike and explore life again through her eyes. But she was so malnourished. As a grown woman, I had no interests of my own. I was numb to the world. Confused. What do I do with my free time now? I have responsibilities that I can’t ignore. I have a career (that might have been hanging on by a thread at the time), children, and bills on top of bills. I had put him first so many times, ignoring my own desires so as to not cause an argument, that I’d forgotten how to be myself. I couldn’t even recognize myself in the mirror.
But I kept trying to nurture my young self, letting her know that he no longer has any power here—that she is now free to be whoever she wants to be.
I am that same girl, but she is not the same. I am not 18, and I carry so much more than I did when I was that age. When I was 18 I laughed and expected it every day. Now I have a different appreciation for laughter. When I laugh, now, I laugh like every burst is saving my life – because it is.
I have a deeper appreciation for all the things I was starved of during my marriage. I am using the experiences I’ve lived through to recreate what it means to be wild and free.
The recreated girl-gone-woman within me plays with puzzles. She reads books. She runs. She is taking up more space each and every day without fear or shame.
I am introducing the woman I am now to the world. Or better yet, I’m reintroducing the world to myself.
I am going to keep becoming the best version of myself at work, with myself, as a mother, as a sister, as a daughter, as a friend.
Every time he crushed my spirit, glass broke. Now, I’ve used those shattered pieces to create a beautiful mosaic that refracts the light of my spirit even brighter than before. I also made sure to leave out some jagged edges, just in case I need to rip through another blanket.
This is me becoming whole after hurt.
All The Good Things 
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