January 6th: Meagan: Choices

Year-end retrospective, eh? Well, this was the worst year on record.  Hands down. No contest.

With that being said, this year also deserves a closer examination. It’s easy to write about all the shitty things that happen and exponentially harder to write about the everyday, happy, good things that make life amazing. I am not talking about the, “I got a raise!” or “We are having a baby!” or “We bought a house!” kind of excitement. I mean the deep contentment and fulfillment of the seemingly normal, everyday joys and happiness.

How do I write about the past couple months? How do I capture the love of my family when we are laughing and cuddling in bed before the day begins? How do I explain the smile that appears on my face watching the kids run and give their dad a hug when he walks through the door after work? It’s nice, but it’s not great for riveting story telling. People want the train wreck; they want the drama and the emotion.  I went from an average number of page hits from around 100 to over 300 as soon as I announced the divorce. That is a huge jump!! Like I said, people love a train wreck.

The summer months crept by as I chronicled my divorce. I went on and on about the realtor and my new shrink. I shared text message exchanges and emails. It was my story to tell. There was heightened drama and plenty to blog about. I published maybe half of what I was writing. I had a glut of material, a glut of emotion and a glut of fucked up shit to deal with. Honestly, it was one of those situations (and sometimes still is) where you look around and think, “What the hell did I do to deserve this? How did this become my life?”  

I spent a lot of time learning to let go. I spent a lot of time with my circle of friends. I spent a lot of time mourning the last 10 years. I was so mad at myself for trusting my first love, so mad that I could be so wrong, so god damn mad. (Well, maybe not mad enough. My therapist advised that I needed to direct my energy toward anger instead of shame…but that’s another story) I was ashamed and embarrassed. I was empowered and independent. I was strong and weak and hid my vulnerability well.

I made it through. I made it to the other side. I am surprised that I can even say that: THE OTHER SIDE. In the not too distant past I would pray for “the other side”. I would imagine what I would be like when I reached the other side. Would I have shared custody with my kids and live in a tiny apartment in Denton? Would I find love again? Would someone ever be worthy enough to be step-dad to my kids? Would an amicable relationship be possible with an ex-husband? Which then turned into…Am I worth more than to give this marriage another shot? Do past mistakes really ever disappear? Are people really capable of change? Do we owe it to our kids to make this work? Would I be better off co-parenting and finding a new path in life? Who knows. That’s the thing with what-if’s, you can’t find out all the answers; you are only given one very short lifetime of choices.

And I guess that is what I learned this year. We all have choices to make and we are responsible for those choices. Good, bad, right or wrong….that is the challenge of humanity. People make choices and there are hundreds of thousands of choices to make in a lifetime. That is the beauty; the possibilities are endless.