I was that girl in yoga.
The one lying in savasana that would stare at the ceiling tiles, tears falling down my face.
“My husband doesn’t love me.”
“My husband doesn’t love me.”
Is this really happening?
It was the most difficult time that I had experienced in life, and my then husband of 10 years was choosing to leave me. Little-by-little, he was pulling away.
My entire world was being shaken.
I heard a sermon recently, and the preacher described trespasses this way: Trespasses are sins that we are fully aware of. It’s a willful choosing to sin against God and against another person.
His words still sometimes break my heart. “I know this is wrong, but I’m doing it anyway.”
Truthfully, I thought I needed him. I really did. I needed to have a friend walk with me through this. My sister was dying of cancer.
Instead, his response was a hardening of his heart. He wasn’t a friend.
Often, new trauma awakens hidden trauma and I was a big mess. Panic attacks and sleepless nights.
Trauma also has a way of exposing what relationships are made out of.
The best thing he ever did for me was suggest that instead of couple’s therapy, we go see our own counselors.
So, I went.
I went and learned that you can’t force anyone to change, but learned that I could change.
I thought, by changing me, the relationship would change. And it did, but not in the way I thought it would.
Because all his accusations were lies that I believed built to manipulate me into his point of view. I truly believed that I was solely to blame for why our marriage didn’t work.
If I was just skinnier, then he’d be happy with me. If I kept my mouth shut, instead of being me, then he’d be ok with me. If I just changed what he told me was wrong about me, then he’d love me. If I was less sensitive…. If I wasn’t “crazy”… The list goes on and on…
Oh, hey there codependency.
Reality was, though, that the marriage was built on a foundation of emotional control and abuse. It was never a reciprocal relationship. It was never healthy.
The day I walked about of my counselor’s office after she pointed out that I wasn’t the controlling one, I felt like a million weights had been lifted off my shoulder.
And that night I dreamt of leeches being pulled out of my brain and in the dream, when I looked in the mirror, my face was beaten up.
You see, he almost had me convinced.
It was like walking out of a haze – a fog – into clear day.
According to him, I’m a psycho path. He doesn’t even try to mask it anymore. No more undercurrent of subtle tones.
But he doesn’t own my mind and he doesn’t know my heart and what he says isn’t truth.
“He doesn’t own my mind”
“I’m worth being loved well”
And now, here I am. Sorting out fact from fiction and healing.
Some days I struggle, because the pain of betrayal and heart break is a heavy weight, and that’s bad enough.
But the biggest struggle of letting go is being mocked for my heart being broken by the one who broke it.
And I have to choose to let go and forgive. Even if it’s a broken choice, it’s still a choice.
The weight of unforgiveness is heavier than heartbreak.
And quite honestly, I need my trespasses forgiven.
“The Beloved One”