CHAPTER 5 - On Heartbreak
Where I've been for most of the summer.
I want to apologize for my absence for the past two months. I’ve been very busy, I spent a large amount of June in New York catching up with friends and attempting to write. July was mostly spent with birthday celebrations, multiple beach trips, and also heartbreak. I’m writing this blog to say that I am getting a divorce.
My relationship wasn’t really something I talked about here, because to be honest I kind of left this blog neglected last year. But I do know that people on other social media, and real life friends and community know me as someone who is married. That is no longer the case. I have so much I could write about this, and trust me I will! But for now, I just want to focus on the logistics it takes to get divorce and not risk my physical or mental health in the process. I’ve been reading more, talking to friends, but to be honest I’ve also been in a period of self-isolation. Doing my job (I work from home), then laying in bed, staring at the ceiling until I eventually give up and take an edible and scroll on TikTok. It almost feels nice in a way, as though I’m doing my own self-created Year of Rest and Relaxation. I know that eventually I will have to stop rotting in bed, but it feels cathartic to relax so hard. I have a lot of fear about being in bed as I spent the majority of this pandemic forced to lay down, writhing in pain from my undiagnosed lupus. I feel as though this period has allowed me to really heal from my “laying in bed,” trauma, so I’m grateful.
The emotions from the divorce come in waves. I feel elation, I feel despair, anger, mistrust, fear. I have a lot of fears about being alone physically, as a disabled person living in the south. For most of my life I’ve seen myself as someone who was difficult to be with and difficult to love. I’ve often felt as though there was something rotten deep within me, that no one would ever be able to overlook. Those who did were romanticized in my eyes, because I was told again and again in micro interactions, but also within macro ones that to be fat, to be dark, to be disabled, to be crazy, to be all of the things I am, meant that I was resigning myself to never being the person in a healthy and happy relationship. COVID and my pretty much near-death experience with lupus allowed me to re-learn all of the things I thought I knew about myself. It is painful and difficult to re-write what has often felt like a predetermined script for my life. Yet I knew that I had to, I had to listen to my body which was telling me that sometimes you need to jump off of the metaphorical ledge.
At times, it feels as though there is nothing more humiliating than knowing that I stood in front of friends, family, and even larger society saying this is the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, only to later realize that this wasn’t true. It feels even worse to realize that I was incorrect so quickly after making such a public declaration. There’s no guidebook on how to do this correctly. I know that people frequently hide from divorce with shame, quietly removing pictures from their social media and re-starting their lives in new towns. While I don’t judge others who do this, that isn’t for me. I think if anything, my divorce shows my commitment to love. Good, healthy, sensual love where everyone involved feels held and understood. That may be confusing to those who believe that divorce or breakups are always negative, but I believe that it is my deep commitment to love that causes me to seek out situations where I can feel the full scope of love’s beauty.
(A picture I took at the beach, shortly after spotting multiple dolphins)
When I go to the beach something that calms me is the consistency of the presence of waves. Though the waves may be quiet or louder depending on the weather, and though the tides will always change, I know in the end that to be by the ocean means that I will witness water replenishing itself again and again. I love sitting on the sand right where land meets the sea, being tickled by the cool water as it splashes onto my chest. I love grasping sand and shells in my hands, forming an attachment to them, and then letting the water steal them away from me, washing my hands clean. I know that I won’t remember every shell that I see, and I won’t be able to take every cool rock home with me. Yet I still find pleasure in the brief moments I get to spend with these parts of nature and thank them for our time together. Each wave represents a chance to be new, to rid ourselves of the parts that are not serving us, as our callosed and rocky parts are rubbed away by time. If only I could easily practice this much ease and non-attachment within every arena of my life. Just taking pleasure in something that is, without thinking about what it could or will be. To appreciate the changes that are taking place all around us, large and small.
There is nothing shameful or embarrassing about believing in love in a world that tells us again and again that love is scarce and fleeting, and that romantic desire and attraction are only reserved for certain types of people. There is bravery in the refusal to stay in situations that cause us unhappiness, for fear that we will not find romantic love again. While some may find it ridiculous, I find it beautiful that so many of us know that even while we are heartbroken or scared, we will eventually choose to put our rose-colored glasses back on. We will live another day fighting for love and the chance to be seen, and for the deep passion within our hearts to be held with care. I pity those who simply can’t understand. There are lovers who love, and I am no longer ashamed to say that I am one of them.