Before I begin, Newsies in Argenta was great! I continue to
be impressed by the dedication and level of talent in the theaters around us. I
believe most of the shows are sold out, but if you’re in the area do yourself a
favor and try to see it! Also eat at Capeo beforehand and order the tomatillo
martini and the saffron dessert. You’re welcome!
Second, this week I have a song, but not from Broadway. This
song is in honor of Miss Amelia. She loves her some JT, even more after the
concert in January. I will always love this song because before I came to work
at Riggs I walked my kids to school every morning. When this song came out we’d
listen to it on our walk. We’d often gather other children on our walk so by
the time we got to the crosswalk I was like the Pied Piper and this song was
our anthem. So, enjoy! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ru0K8uYEZWw
So to move into what I’m actually want to talk about this
week requires me to address why all of this started. I have always found
writing cathartic. I am able to say things on paper that I am never able to
articulate with my spoken voice. It helps me process things, so I started
writing. Way back before I got married I wrote a funny piece about how my past
relationships were like baseball players. I really wish I could find it now
because it was spot on! Anyway, I published it because I thought it was funny.
I got a great response. I wrote off and on for years after that. Fast forward to
tiny human #2 emergence into the world and I wanted to document what it was
like to be a parent of 2 kids. Mostly because at the time it all felt so
foreign and different than only having 1 kid. So I started this blog. Then life
exploded and the blog was put on hold. During that time I was in therapy trying
to deal with the whole “a swat team ended my marriage” situation and my
therapist had me write a letter to my (now ex) husband and to my father (we were
going through some stuff). When he read the one to my dad my therapist legit
looked at me and said “you can’t move back to Arkansas because clearly there
are some things we need to discuss.” He was joking of course and obviously I
moved back, but writing down all of the things I needed to say to my father
helped me process, even though I never said them to him.
As life allowed over the next several years I wrote. I
talked about my kiddos and had I think 4 people that followed the blog. Then as
I became more comfortable being a survivor of domestic violence I began to use
this blog and social media as a platform to share my story. And every single
time I posted that blog I got feedback from women who had also been in abusive
relationships I could feel their pain and relief at knowing that they finally
could share their pain. And at that moment I realized I wasn’t writing just for
me anymore. So I continued to write. Not all of the topics were heavy. Some
were just talking through my life, my decisions, my relationships, just my
life. Some were bombshell kind of stories like the #metoo piece I wrote last
month. Which coincidentally a national women’s group that I love and respect
reached out to me earlier this week and asked to highlight my story on their
social media. I was scared to put that story out there to others, but also very
humbled at the thought that my story could bring comfort to even more women.
I am saying all of this because what I am about to write is
not an easy admission for me. It shows a side of me I wish didn’t exist, but I
am hoping perhaps in writing about it that I begin to own the feelings and move
on… So here goes.
Recently someone hurt me. Not in the “marriage ends in a
SWAT team kind of way”, but the “lied to you and hurt your heart” kind of way. They hurt my family. Turns out they did it
intentionally. Someone lied to my kids and I for their own pleasure. And I am
angry about it. I would say irrationally angry, but as mama bear I don’t think
being angry because someone intentionally messed with my family is all that
irrational. The angry part I get, but I honestly feel like I hate this person.
And that is something I am not sure I have ever experienced before.
And what is worse is I don’t know how to stop it. I’ve tried
praying about it. Like a lot. It’s the first thing I pray in the mornings. Dear
Lord – please give me the strength to not have hate in my heart today. And at
night. Dear Lord – please make tomorrow the day that hate is not in my heart.
And it is a very earnest prayer. Because I don’t like feeling like this.
I’ve tried talking it out. A friend who I consider to be
probably the most level headed of my friends pointed out that they say that the feelings of love and hate come
from the same place. And that resonated with me Because it is true. It was like
the moment the realization of the hurt that this person had intentionally
caused my children came down on me, all the love in my heart went away. And
there was a lot there. So it makes sense that it would be replaced by just as
intense level of hatred.
I think part of why I feel this way is because there is no
remorse. This person obviously thinks that lying to my children and screwing
with my family is an ok thing to do, which just makes me angry all over again.
Like I am sitting here typing that sentence and my ears got hot. I just don’t
understand how someone that can classify themselves as a member of the human
race would set out to intentionally hurt anyway, let alone children. But I had
lunch with another friend today who said something so simple that it seems too
easy.
“Just forgive him.” I opened my mouth for a rebuttal and she
shook her head and said “I know, forgive him anyway.” Wow. Like all of the emotions
are coming out in the form of leaking from my eyeballs right now. Three simple
words. Just forgive him. I want to so much. Man I want to. I think there is a
tiny part of me that is afraid that if I stop hating him it might be replaced
by the pain I’ve yet to feel over the situation. There is a tiny part of me
that doesn’t want to forgive him because he took things from me that I will
never get back.
But hating someone doesn’t go away like pain does. They say
time heals all wounds, but not hate. I think hate is something you have to
actively decide not to do. So time will never heal that wound. I truly hope
that I can forgive him for me. Lord knows he doesn’t deserve it, but I do. I
deserve to have peace surrounding that particular part of my life and I don’t
have it now.
I hope that maybe one of you reading this has the magical
answer. That I can go to bed tonight and know with certainty that I’ll wake up
tomorrow and this tiny part of my heart won’t be black anymore.
So to wrap up, it’s been a mixed bag kind of week. Super
great things at work, hating someone and admitting it to the world in hopes
that I will no longer feel hate. #nobodydied is all I can say…
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