I tried to stick to the plan....

...but I had to get rid of the weight on my fourth finger, left hand.

It's funny how you don't realize and notice things. Everybody knows that this past year has been hard for me. It'll be a year in a day or two since my husband walked away from our marriage. Depending on who you talk too, I'm either bitter, pathetically longing for his return, or a survivor. You are free to believe whichever suits your purpose.

A lot of changes came as a result of the dissolution of my three year marriage. Most of them positive really. I sit here at this lap top, listening to Brandi's Who I Am, and I am smiling. Nothing particular has happened today that would warrant a smile. Sure my watermelons sprouted and my sunflowers are growing like crazy. My morning glories finally broke through. Nothing of substance really. So why am I so perky?

I can breathe again. The truth be told, when he walked away, I was hurt. Confused. Angry. Bitter. Maybe I should still be? That seems to be the stigma that everybody around me has.  But why? What purpose would it serve? What would I garner but headaches and a loss of sleep? What is there really to be angry about? The lies? Maybe. The deceptions? Maybe. There is a lot I could be bitter and angry about. But what good would it do? I've had a year to sit here and sort through the pieces, and despite it all, every little negative thing, the one thing it always comes down too, is we went in seperate directions.

We were two different people. In the end we were strangers that just happened to be married. When the bottom fell out, there was no passion left, no love, just animosity, stress and apathy. There truly was nothing left to save. How can I fault a man for wanting out of a dead end relationship? I mean, if I sat here and typed that I was totally blindsided, or that the thought of seperation never crossed my mind, I would be a bold faced liar. After all, nobody ever asked who initiated the seperation in the first place. It was me. Things were dissolving at a rapid pace and I was the one who suggested some time apart. While he was the one who made the decision to end the marriage, I was the one who put the offer on the table.

I knew when we drove away from the train station, it was over. There was no going back. One last kiss goodbye and when the morning came, I knew I had to start over. Yeah I tried, sure, to make it work, to work through the massive amount of issues, but eventually I realized, there was nothing left to save.

Through this year, it's been an uphill battle and it still isn't over. It probably won't be for a long while and I am okay with that. I found a strength in myself that I never knew I had. Where others would have laid down and died, I kept going. I'm a better woman for all of it now. All the years of people telling me I was strong and of sturdy stock, but I never gave it much thought, I didn't know what strength was. I know what it is now. I'm proud of myself. I am a woman of fierce courage, strong faith, and compassionate nature. I see myself in a new and refreshing light. I'm at peace.

This experience has made me who I am. Despite the hurt and the pain, I'm glad it happened. The circumstances could have been far worse. In the end, I'm ok. And I'm going to continue to be okay.

I wish him all the best in the world and hope he finds his place in this world.

I know I've found mine.

xo