Bravery is not the absence of fear, but willingness to take on - even run at - the scary thing.
The idea of divorce brought with it paralyzing fears: Being unlovable, Being alone in life, No prospect of children, Not having money or stuff, Others' judgment / Losing friends, Moving away from my home, No longer owning property, Starting life over, and, generally The Unknown.
A year ago, I ran. I simply ran away. Away from the pain of an unloving and dangerous relationship, and toward a lot of unknown surrounded by a cloud of really scary stuff. And because I had not yet owned "brave," that's as far as I got. And I turned back. At that time I was not willing to take on the scary stuff of divorce.
Bravery doesn't always look the way we think it should.
In the moments that I am hardest on myself I look at one-year-ago me and I loathe her cowardice. I wish I had been braver. I was afraid - of all of the things - so I went back to what I knew ... Even though what I knew was pain.
Or maybe going back was brave.
In going back, I ran at the very thing that terrified me more than being alone ... My marriage. For six months I tried to make it work. I exhausted every part of myself trying to be in a marriage that was simply over. The sad thing is that he probably says the same things ... That he took me back and then he tried hard for six months but it didn't work. That's the hard thing about both marriage and divorce. Both take two people ... to happen or not happen.
Being brave is noble, but it can lead to being broken.
During that six months my attempt to try, to make things work, to be brave, turned into one of the most damaging periods of my life. Before then I had been an expert concealer - but during that time I became a liar. I lied to basically everyone - including myself - about my marriage and my emotional well being. Because that's what it would take. If my marriage was to survive, I would have to become someone else - a person I ultimately hated. And I became her. Horribly emotionally disfigured and unrecognizable.
So, was I brave? Yes. But also broken.
Bravery in the broken times leads to restoration.
If an object, or a person, seems perfectly functional, noone takes the time or effort to take it apart and rebuild it. Only when there is visible and functional brokenness do we work to rebuild - hopefully with improvements along the way. But this process requires vulnerability - and bravery - that few see.
That's where I am. The broken pieces have been pieced back together and I am in a long healing phase. I am fragile ... but each day brings an opportunity to be brave and I take it. Sometimes little brave moments lead to little breakdowns, but the trend is generally toward a whole, healthy, happy person. And I have come to think of those paralyzing fears a bit differently ... not really scary at all:
- Being unloved does not mean I am unlovable.
- Being single does not mean I am alone in life.
- No children now does not mean none ever.
- Not having as much money or stuff is not the same as not enough.
- Responding to ohers' judgment with grace and poise earns respect and gains real friends.
- Living in a different space - that I don't have ownership responsibility for - is actually really nice.
- Starting life over and, generally, the unknown means wide open possibilities.
I have become comfortable with "brave" as a descriptor for me ... I am brave. I hope to never again have to use my brave in order to survive a relationship. But I have it for all the other scary of life. Just in case.
