Epiphany #2:  I am not broken. Therefore, I do NOT need to fix myself.

Granted, I am a bit messy right now. My life is a mess, I’ve been an emotional mess, my house is a mess… so THAT is what I’m working on. It is time to tidy up, brush out the cobwebs, dust myself off, and get it together.

It’s going to take a minute. I’m only three weeks in on my quest to get back to being me again, the strong vibrant woman that I used to be, the me he thinks I somehow lost touch with by trying to blend into his world.

Epiphany #1 was That’s BS… I couldn’t blend into his world if I wanted to, the ONLY blending attempt going on was in my kitchen.  I made dietary changes, learned to cook food that he likes, tried to prepare meals that we both could eat, and adapted to HIS cultural thing about making his plates.

In MY culture, mommies make plates for little kids and grown ass men make their own damn plates. Who best knows what your own self wants, eh?

Sometimes I think his cultural thing about women making men’s plates is more about hierarchy in the relationship, with women being subservient to men, than “an expression of love” as I always felt like he inspected the plates and I would catch myself waiting for some sign of approval. Perhaps making his plates unconsciously changed how he saw me… a strong, vibrant woman stands on equal ground, she is not subservient to her man.  Another complaint was that I was too used to being on my own, that I made household decisions without consulting him. A strong, vibrant woman does not need permission or approval for every minor decision. So, there is mixed messages in all that… do you want me to be the woman you fell in love with… or the one who is tamping herself down in an effort to please her man?

OH WELL… I’m just going to work on my mess, get my life and the house back in order.

It is a solitary process that requires a continuous daily effort.  I quit bawling buckets, so I’m making progress. There for awhile, I was an emotional mess. It was like being on a roller coaster, a water ride, with angry highs and sad lows, tears flowing at the slightest provocation.

Flipping rooms helped… he left all his stuff when he walked out the door on the 4th of July, so I’d wake up hugging his pillows, breathing his scent in a room that looked like he just went to the bathroom. Now I’m sleeping in my office and that bedroom has been cleared out and repainted.

I still need some white for the window trim and doors. The window topper boxes need repainted before they go back up.  I also want to do a decorative edge along the color blocks, maybe lines or a leafy vine in Mars Black.  I like the two-tone blues… the pale so light it reminds me of a cloudy sky.

Eventually, this room will be set up as my studio workspace.  It’s open and airy, catches a good breeze, and the morning light pours through an east window.  I want to move my kitchen table in there, use it as a work table, so I need to find something else for out there.  Maybe something round or square with four chairs would fit the kitchen space much better.

It will be alright… by the time I’m done cleaning the house, going through bins and boxes, reclaiming my own space and setting it up as I please, I should feel more together inside, too.




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