From Broken To Badass

Anyone who has ever gone through a divorce knows that you’re fragile.

You’ve been through some of the worst pain imaginable, aside from dealing with death. It is a death of sorts, especially if you have a family. Everyone suffers. Nobody gets out of a divorce in one piece.

I was broken after my divorce. I’m not going to try to pretend I wasn’t. I spent over 20 years with my ex-husband. I met him as a teenager. We grew up together. It was one of those relationships that don’t happen much anymore. It’s rare to see people who met as teenagers still together after that time.

My devastation at the loss of my husband, the loss of my family, and really the loss of myself was severe. It was a death to me. Part of me died as I watched my family break apart.

I didn’t know how to live on my own. It’s amazing how codependent you become on someone you’ve spent so much time with. He was my first everything. First kiss, first love, first sex, first heartbreak. Simply every aspect of who I was as a person was somehow tied to that man. I was the mother of his children and I never felt respected for that.

Things were bad before the split. In fact, we had split once before and reconciled. It had been broken for a long time. I took my marriage vows seriously. I wasn’t going to let it go without a fight, even after I was told I “should just kill myself” by this man.

I did fight. I put the past in the past, forgave so many wrongdoings. Lying, cheating, dishonesty, abuse, I forgave it all and threw myself back into my marriage and my family.

After it ended, I was a mess. I felt out of control. I lost quite a bit in that time. Family, friends, money, business, stability, my independence, and my sanity. I found myself finding solace at the local bar, or anywhere else where I could numb my feelings. The bottle became my new family.

Everyone talks about hitting rock bottom, but I don’t feel it was one moment that I could pinpoint. Instead, I felt like I was dragged repeatedly across the bottom. I lived there. It was my home, and, if I didn’t change something, I honestly felt that my kids weren’t going to have a mother around.

I didn’t want to be that person. I didn’t want to hurt myself anymore, or, god forbid, someone else. I had let one person control my life for so long, I honestly couldn’t figure out how to do this on my own.

Being broken felt like a curse. One that I had inflicted on myself to some extent. After all, we are responsible for our own actions. Nobody but ourselves are the ones who ultimately choose the path we travel down.

I just didn’t know where to begin. I felt so lost without that person, but I knew that staying in the situation I was in wasn’t the direction I wanted my life to go. I heard a story from someone close to me about his aunt who lived in an abusive relationship for decades. It wasn’t until after her husband passed that she finally started living the life she wanted and always deserved.

I didn’t want to be that woman. I didn’t want to be a statistic or a poster child for women staying in bad relationships because that’s just what loyal women do.

Did I mention I was broken? I was…

I was so angry with myself that I put up with it for so long. Much of my guilt was tied to the fact that my children were there to watch it happen. They watched an abusive relationship unfold in what should have been a happy home. I willfully participated in the emotional and physical abuse that happened in my marriage. I take ownership of my actions. It wasn’t healthy and, unfortunately, that was their version of normal, much like my own childhood. When living in a fucked up reality is your version of normal, something has to change.

 I didn’t want my girls to grow up thinking that was how a man should treat a woman. I knew they deserved better and I had to lead by example. I didn’t want them to think that was how a woman should treat her husband, either. We were toxic together. I especially didn’t want my teenage son to think that was normal behavior. I want him to be a gentleman. I want him to be a loving, supportive partner. I still worry about the effect on them today.

Did I mention I was broken? I was. I’m sure there are plenty of women out there who understand my situation. My mom used to always say, “I’m sure you’re not the first woman and I’m sure you’re not going to be the last.” It’s a cliche, I know, but there is a certain truth to some of those sayings.

I stayed broken for a long time. Even after meeting someone amazing, I was still broken. I was still grieving. Many people might think that maybe it wasn’t time to bring another person in to my mess, but life has a funny way of giving you what you need when you don’t even realize what you need yourself.

So, I’m sure you’re probably chomping at the bit to find out how the Broken Girl became a badass.

Before I tell you about that, I need to tell you about May. May is the most fucked month for me because it used to hold so many good memories. May was Mother’s Day, my wedding anniversary, and his birthday. Things that used to be such an integral part of my life, were now just gone.

I no longer have a relationship with my mother because of him. I don’t want to give all the gritty details, but, once you stand by your husband as he sues your family, your fate is somewhat sealed. All ties were cut off with her well before May, but I was still hopeful that the relationship could be salvaged.

So, May comes and I think to myself, “you got this.” I felt I was in a good enough place to handle what was coming. I was wrong. Everything seemed to come at me at once. I was a wreck and I pretty much just fell off the grid. I left my home, left my man wondering what the fuck I was doing and drowned myself in many, many bottles.

Did I mention that my divorce was finalized on his birthday? I’m still not sure if that was a blessing or a curse, but it just added to my manic state of mind.

I had to change. I couldn’t be that woman anymore. I realized, after falling apart for one last time, that I’m so much better than all that. I began to see my strength. After all, only a strong person can pick themselves up from the bottom and start to succeed.

I had my breakthrough moment inside my last breakdown. I heard my own mother tell me that she didn’t have any more room in her heart to love me anymore and an ex-husband who still thought he could verbally abuse me at his whim.

I had enough. I’m a tough chick, but I have a very loving heart. I had to put that aside and stick my middle finger up to the world and scream, “FUCK YOU” to anyone and everyone who thought they could put (or keep) me down.

I don’t know exactly what it was, but after that point, I stopped putting up with anyone’s shit. I started to fight back. I started to reclaim myself. I also became guarded and cold. I don’t really recommend that last part, but it’s what I needed at the time.

It’s amazing the growth you can accomplish when you stop letting people control your own feelings of self worth. I knew I was better than what my ex and my mother were telling me. I realized that it was their issues with themselves that they were projecting onto me, because I had always been an easy target for them.

I’ve been told some things that no mother should ever say to her daughter, and that no husband should ever say to his wife.

I reached my breaking point and, instead of breaking down like I had in the past, I started to rise up. I started to see my worth, my value. I have some great people in my life who have seen these things in me, and were always shocked when I didn’t see those things myself.

I got my shit together. I started taking care of myself, and put things in motion to give my children the environment, and, most importantly, the mother they deserved. A great plus to this is that my resolve has strengthened and I’m stronger now than I’ve been in a very long time.

I don’t need anyone to make me feel whole. The people I choose to share my life with now are there because I want them there. The difference might seem subtle, but it’s actually quite profound.

I walk with my head high, enjoying the path that I’m on now

I’m still not exactly where I want to be, but that’s what life is about. You should always be striving to push forward, to be a little better today than you were yesterday. When you’re striving to be the best version of yourself, you’re going to project that out to the world.

You’ll start to attract people who want to be a part of your life because they truly want to see you succeed. That’s how you know who your family and friends really are. Anyone who wants to see you fail, should have no place (or influence) in your life.

I walk with my head high, enjoying the path that I’m on now. Words and actions that once would have devastated me, now carry no weight because they come from people who I no longer value. They don’t want the best for me because they’re unhappy with their own lives.

For all of you who wanted to watch me fail, you can kiss my ass as I walk towards success with my middle finger pointed at you in my rear view. You can’t break me anymore. I’m a badass. My heart is now at peace and I have closure on the deepest pain I could possibly imagine. I have felt my heart break in it’s most natural form, which has also helped put everything in perspective for me.

To my my mom and my ex: I will always strive to be everything you are not. I will always try to be rational and see life through other people’s perspective. I will always try to validate the feelings of others, not just my own. However, I will always defend and protect my boundaries.

My boundaries and my family will always be the first things that I protect. I deserve to be happy. My kids deserve to be happy. They have seen enough pain. If you don’t have good intentions for me or my little family, you don’t fucking deserve us or our love.