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THE BEACH-my turning point

Flames grew with each breath.  Sparks were rising out through every opening and the fuel was coming from somewhere deep inside my soul.  The fire that started when I picked up a pen and paper to draw was now raging…and I was ready to explore it.

I had been sleeping in a separate room from my second husband for a few months when I felt like I was going to burst.  That stirring inside me kept calling and I needed to find out what it wanted me to know.  I decided to pack up and spend the weekend by myself in a beach town a couple of hours up the highway.  The music was blaring, the coffee was sweet and I was ready, although I had no idea what I was ready for.  My backpack was loaded with everything I needed:  books, art supplies, wine and a bathing suit.  What more could a girl need on a soul searching weekend.  I was on the verge of discovery, and I was happy.

I remember the first thing I did after I dropped my bag on the desk in the motel room.  I went and purchased a whole barbecue chicken pizza at a beach side shop, for myself, and ate half of it.  I was more than just hungry for food though, so I put on my sandals, grabbed a beach towel and headed to the water.  The waves were HUGE!  It was after dinner by this point and the beach was mostly deserted.  After laying out my towel, bare feet against the cool sand, I headed for a much needed walk along the shore.  The moon was almost full, the waves were crashing, and it was perfect.  I walked for about 30 minutes when I decided to just sit myself down in the sand and be still.  Being still had always been an issue for me.  I was always busy, and if I wasn’t, my thoughts would take over and I would be busy mentally.

Under the full moon, my toes were being kissed by the last remnants of crashing waves and I could feel the magnetic force within me.  Meditating had never been a strong point of mine but the serenity of it all had me hypnotized and absolutely peaceful.  GROW.  That’s what I heard.  No I am not crazy.  It wasn’t a distinct voice and I didn’t have to turn around to see where it came from.  I just knew.  I heard it from within me.  I knew at that moment I was on the right path.  Over the course of just a few years, I had met people that inspired me to explore things I never would have done on my own, I had rediscovered art and the joy it brought me, I learned through the dozens of books that I read that happiness was within my reach.  I had discovered Buddhism (again I AM not a Buddhist) and how the teachings fit with who I was and the beliefs I had.  I had STARTED to grow but what was stunting it? 

I had come to the realization over the few months leading up to this get-away, that my husband did not like anything about me.  He was not supportive of my art, did not share (nor was he happy about) any beliefs I had, was absolutely opposed to me exploring Buddhism, didn’t like how I dressed, and didn’t like my friends.  I have a very large personality and I love to talk.  Well I come to fine out I was an embarrassment to him!  I stopped sharing the excitement I was feeling with all these new discoveries because I was so tired of seeing the look of disgust on his face.  I refrained from going places with him because I couldn’t be authentically me without upsetting him.  My friends never came over so he wouldn’t be made to have to stay in the garage because he didn’t want to be around us.  You get it…I just stopped everything.  There was nothing left to share.  Either I continued to grow and things stayed the way they were, or I stopped.  Ok…back to the beach…

GROW.  I heard the message but wasn’t sure how this would develop.  Classic Jacquie move would be to spent the rest of the weekend trying for the life of me to figure out how to make this work, but for the first time since reading about ‘being present’, I made a conscious decision to not worry about HOW I was going to make this happen.  I was just going to be here, NOW.  I meandered under the moonlight back to my now cold, damp beach towel and headed to my room.  After cleaning up and pouring a lovely glass of wine, I turned on my iPod, picked up my pen and some drawing paper and sat down to create.  Paul McCartney’s ‘Blackbird’ came on.  I’ve always loved that song but tonight it resonated with me.  I was the Blackbird.  It was time for me to take my broken wings and fly, my sunken eyes and learn to see.  I drew a blackbird (side note: 3 weeks later I had that drawing tattooed on the inside of my right wrist to remind me every time I see it that I AM capable of anything).

After spending the next morning exploring the town, I grabbed my stuff and headed out onto the now busy beach.  I found a quiet spot, set myself up, went for a short swim in the frigid waters, and then laid out to soak up some vitamin D.  I had recently found a book titled ‘642 Things to Write About’ and decided that whatever page it opened to would be my challenge for the next hour.  The winner: Describe A Tree from the Point Of View of a Leaf.  Challenge accepted.  Except it wasn’t a challenge at all.  It just poured out of me!  This is what I wrote:

I dangle precariously on the edge.  Not of extinction, but disconnectedness.  I  AM at the farthest point.  She stands tall, firm, proud.  Tho never moving forward, she reaches out indiscriminately.  Receiving energy, giving life.  My role is my own.  I let go.

I actually wept on the beach.  They were mixed tears.  Angry tears because I had put off growing and spent my entire life not being me.  I was half way through the functional years of my life and was exactly where I started, feeling not worthy and unfulfilled.  Sad ones because I now had to make a choice, and it seemed that either decision I made, the man who was my husband would be hurt.  Mostly though, they were tears of joy and absolute peace.  I had, at that moment, decided that I was ready to be completely Jacquie.  I was ready to explore who I was and grow as a human and I was not going to allow anyone to stand in my way.  I was ready to embrace everything that was me.  I was the tree, tall and proud, always giving.  That’s who I am.  I was also ready to be the leaf.  I was a part of the tree, but separate at the same time.  I was ready to let go of everything that was holding me back and see where the wind would take me to plant new roots.

After another peaceful evening enjoying the magnitude of the waves and the moon, a very restful sleep, and a morning of delicious coffee and fun in the water, I packed up and headed home.  I thought I would dread going back, but it was quite the opposite.  I was looking forward to BEGINNING AGAIN…for the 6^th time.

The next 2 months had me continue growing and trying to somehow share my life with my husband without causing any stress.  I can’t say it was going well, but this time I was not retreating back to my old ways.  He either loved me for who I was, or he didn’t.  That’s when something happened that made me realize this kind of life was not conducive to me being authentic Jacquie.  My husband and I had to switch cars for the day.  The next morning when I got into my car, I immediately noticed that the mala beads I had hanging from my rear view mirror were not there.  Very strange.  I thought maybe they had broken.  I frantically searched the car floor for loose beads.  I looked in the glove box, under the seats and then the console storage.  That’s where I found them, wrapped up in a ball and forcibly shoved to the bottom, under everything else in there.  I was confused to say the least.  Did they somehow fall off the mirror?  Did the thread break?  Did they obstruct his view while he was driving?  I got out of my car and went into the house to ask him.  “How did my mala beads end up at the bottom of my console?”  And there it was, that disgusted look and angry tone.  “I don’t believe in that shit and I shouldn’t have to look at that crap when I’m driving your car.”  WHAT??? I explained that I would never dream of taking down the beautiful rosary he has hanging in his car because that would just be disrespectful.  He replied with “Don’t you dare think about touching my rosary!”

And there it was.  I was done.  I wore a mala.  I loved how the beads rolled between my fingers when I was stressed or anxious.  I realized that same disgust he felt looking at them hanging from my rear view mirror was how he felt when he looked at me.

Things fell into place for me at that point.  I was ready to stop living a life of begging for love and acceptance, and The Universe, God, Source, whatever word you choose, provided me with the opportunities I needed to escape the life I had repeatedly created for myself and move forward to a life of self-love and growth.  A good friend of mine was moving out of town and I easily took over her apartment.  Friends supported me emotionally and with the essentials I needed to start my new life in a place of my own.  It was time to have probably the most difficult conversation I had ever had.  I told my husband it was time for us to talk, so we headed out to a local trail to walk and talk.  I explained to him that I couldn’t do this anymore.  We fought all the time, neither of us was happy and it was time for us to part ways.  He cried, I cried.  He said we should stay together and try to make it work.  I reminded him that I had begged 7 years ago, and more recently, that we go to counselling and he always refused.  That I had tried at every turn to have conversations with him about the state of our marriage and what we could do to improve it and he would not engage.  He replied with “that’s not a reason to quit”.  I think at that point I was probably considering giving us another chance when I said, hoping beyond all hope that he would disagree with my statement, “But you don’t like ANYTHING about me.  There is not one thing about me that adds joy to your life.”  I got confirmation in his reply.  “Ya, but when you get married it’s for life whether things work or not”.  I had no more tears.  

A month later I was in my new apartment and I have not stopped growing.  I AM happy.   I continue to grow and learn and have made a choice to not believe what I was taught as a young girl.  It’s a daily struggle, though it does get easier to recognize when I AM falling into those old patterns.  I acknowledge that this is not what I believe of myself, and turn those thoughts around.  I have come to understand that everything that has happened in my life has taught me a lesson and I have the choice, to wallow in self-pity and beat myself up for the things I have done, or accept that I AM not that person any longer.  I AM NOT the decisions I have made.  I AM a result of the lessons I have learned from those decisions.  I have no desire to go back and change anything.  Nor do I wish to spend my life trying to prove to the people, who unfortunately got hurt because of the false beliefs I had of myself, that I am not that person any more.  I have acknowledged the errors I’ve made and apologized for my role in the events that had occurred.  I wish them well, and they will be a part of my life because of the children we share, but I AM under no obligation to prove to them how I have changed or that I AM better than I was.  I do not need that acceptance from them any longer.  I accept me for who I AM and I finally understand what it means to love myself first.

This knowledge did not happen on the beach.  It’s taken years of soul searching, educating myself, reaching out for help, research and commitment to get this point.  The first step was acknowledging I wanted change. The second was committing, no matter how scary it was, or how much easier it is to retreat back to what I have known and am comfortable with, to consistently move forward.  I learn from my past, but that is where it stops.  It has no control over me today.  I AM…HERE

AND THE PATTERN CONTINUED

 Remember, I am sharing this story to show how the power of our thoughts controls the direction of our lives.  For my entire life, I had the false belief that I wasn’t worthy.  This continued story is evidence that until I shed that belief, I will continue to make choices that only validate it.

I had been divorced for about a year when I started at a federal, well paying, Monday to Friday job, I looked great, had confidence in my future, and loved the important role I had being a single parent.  I was free, certain I had my shit together and knew who I was.  I’m laughing at myself as I type this!!

When I met my second husband, he showed me things I had never seen or experienced before.  He was attracted to me, didn’t care that I had 2 young children, and introduced me to so many new things.  He was kind, and that was huge for me.  Looking back, I think the biggest appeal was the friendships I was creating with the people in his circle and the abundance of adventures I was having.  We were always doing something, and the friendships were deep and meaningful.

All of our friends were happily married with children and they were a huge part of our lives.  We traveled together, hung out on weekends with the kids, always got together on holidays, and helped each other whenever we could.  I always felt somewhat uncomfortable with them though, out of place you could say.  They were families and I was just his girlfriend with kids.

After 2 years of dating we bought a house in the country.  We started talking about having a child together.  He definitely wanted a child of his own, my first 2 children were getting older, and at 34 I wasn’t getting any younger.  I reasoned that I did not believe in having a baby if we weren’t married because it would send the kids the wrong message.  Looking back, I realize, without a doubt, getting married was important to me so that I would fit in with our circle of friends.  How absolutely ridiculous that sounds now!!  Being unmarried in a group of married people made me feel like I wasn’t good enough and that our relationship wasn’t legit!  And there is the pattern again!!

He did agree (hesitantly) to marry me.  I remember the conversation when we finally decided to tie the knot and plan on adding to the family.  He was active in a weekend sport, so getting married would have to wait until after the competitive season.  HMMMM…a red flag went off.  Wasn’t marrying me and having a child important enough to him that he could miss ONE competition?!?  Apparently not.  I had made it very clear to him that if I wasn’t pregnant within 6 months of turning 35, having a child was off the table.  Tick-Tock.  One day while he was at work, I went through the competition schedule, found a weekend there were no events, called a minister and booked a date for our wedding.  When he got home from work I shared the news with him.  Two months later we were married on our front lawn.  It was a lovely and fun wedding, but once again, I found myself standing in front of a minister thinking “nope, you should not be doing this Jacq”.  Something small in the back of my mind knew I was doing it for the wrong reasons, but wouldn’t it feel so good to be a ‘normal family’???

He was a wonderful father to my first 2 children, adored his new son, he never hit me, and up until a few years into the marriage, never said mean things to me.  It was about this time he took on a new endeavor and opened a ‘gym’ with a couple of his friends.  I can’t say I was thrilled about it, but according to him it was his money and he could do with it what he wanted.  He had a passion for this, so I supported him.  Money had become a huge issue.  To keep it short, he paid the mortgage and house repairs when needed.  That is it.  The rest was his play money and the gym was now his playground.

An even bigger issue and in the end a major part of our divorce, was the fact that he never chose me.  He is a good human being and always willing to help other people, his mom most of all, and now there was the gym, and then his mom again, and then the gym, and then anyone else who needed something.  We had one day a week when the 5 of us would sit down at the table for dinner together, Wednesdays.  He would get home at 4:10, take his shoes off, wash up, sit at the table and his mom would call, without fail.  If she lived out of town, or if something important needed to be conveyed, it would not have been an issue at all.  The fact is, she had already spoken to him on his lunch break (which she did everyday) and she was just calling to talk.  I had a conversation with him.  Because of our busy life, could he have a chat with her and ask her not to call until after dinner, or let it go to voice mail and call her back when we were done?  I was put in my place.  This was his mom and he would drop everything to be there for her.  Feckin’ hell.  This hurt.  After that conversation, it seems he took knowing how much it hurt me, that his mom would always come first, to a whole new level.  I really wish I was exaggerating, but I am not.  His mom suddenly became his top priority.  The gym wasn’t any different.  We stopped doing things on the weekends because the gym needed him.  We only ate together as a family once a week because he had to be at the gym.  Any date night we had was tied together with events dealing with gym.  I am struggling to convey in a blog just how important everything else was to him ALL THE TIME.  I didn’t want much.  I didn’t need fancy dinners and tropical vacations.  I wanted time.  Once in a while pick me first.  Once in a while pick the family over everyone else.  I begged, FOR YEARS.  I felt worthless, used, and that nothing I could do would ever be good enough to get the love and attention I deserved.

Slowly, I started pulling away.  I was tired to my core.  Tired of begging for love.  Tired of doing so much to make his life comfortable and not being acknowledged for it.  Tired of coming in last place.  I didn’t leave the marriage yet, but at just over 4 years, I took my wedding ring off, telling him when he was ready to choose me I would put it back on again.  It never saw the outside of my jewelry box again.  THIS was my FOURTH BEGINNING OF FORWARD.  I established a boundary.

I had a good friend from work that knew I had studied art decades ago.  She saw I was depressed and suggested I try my hand at drawing Zen tangles as a form of meditation.  I thought I’d give it a try and when I got home I grabbed a sheet of printer paper and a pen and started doodling.  I got lost in it!!! 2 hours had passed in a blink of an eye.  During that time I didn’t think about how unhappy I was.  I was hooked.  It was like a drug.  I quickly moved away from abstract and into small ink pieces that were meaningful.  I showed a few of them to friends at work and they could not believe how good they were.  I was on fire and passionate about something for the first time in my life.  A friend encouraged me to create an Instagram account to showcase my work.  I remember how excited I was when sharing this information with my husband.  He was standing at the end of the kitchen table overlooking my artwork and scattered pens.  No smile.  No happiness that I was excited.  Just, “it’s not that good, she was just being nice, are you sure you want to put pictures up for other people to see?”  I was not expecting that.  I had always supported him in whatever he was doing and honestly thought that he would be excited for me.  At the very least, if he wasn’t excited about it, I figured he would fake support!!  I felt my excitement sink, but not diminish.  Scared to death, I did a couple of shows, sold a decent amount and my confidence was soaring again.  People liked my stuff!!  In all honestly, the second show I did at a local yoga studio, catapulted me forward and helped me start to grow as a human.  I was incredibly sad, but started to recognize that I had some worth and wanted to explore that new feeling!

I had started reading books on creating a happy life.  Deepak Chopra, the Dalai Lama, Eckhart Tolle, Pema Chodron.  Reading these continued to add to the fire that was starting to grow inside of me.  I was growing.  My mind was open to creating happiness in my life.  I started reading about Buddhism (I am not a Buddhist) and it sat so comfortably with me.  It made sense.  It was what I needed to find at the exact moment I found it.  I purchased some mala beads and a meditation pillow and vowed to create some calm in my life, even if for just a few minutes a day.  I was starting to feel happy and shared this feeling with anyone I was with.  I spoke of my art, the things I had been reading and was always respectful that not everyone would agree with me.  Just because something works for me, doesn’t mean it works for someone else.  I had read a line in…I think it was Buddhist Bootcamp by Timber Hawkeye.  He said “the opposite of what you believe is also true”.  I think that was the most powerful line I have ever read.  Unfortunately, my husband didn’t feel that way.

Anyway…here I am being all happy and Zen, having a conversation with my husband about all these new things I was learning, when he blurts out, with the most disgusted face I have ever seen on a person “you’re a fuckin’ FREAK Jacq”.  Well holy moly!  I had no reply.  I burst out into tears and he headed to his gym.  Something was different about my tears though and I still don’t know what it was.  What I can tell you is that when he walked out, I picked up my phone and googled the definition of ‘freak’.  Once again, what I needed to see at the exact time I needed to see it showed up.  I wish I could remember what site I read it on, but the first definition I came across defined ‘freak’ as “a person who does not conform to mainstream society/one who dances to the beat of their own drum” THAT WAS IT!!! This was me!! I had tried to be everyone else my whole life (more on that in a later blog) and reading that definition at that exact moment in my life, sent me on my FIFTH and biggest BEGINNING OF FORWARD!!

Something switched in my head that day.  I wasn’t mad at him anymore.  He got home later that night and I genuinely thanked him for calling me a FREAK.  I was finally ready to embrace me and all my uniqueness and by thinking he was crushing my spirit, he actually helped me.  That night I started sleeping in the spare room.  I had hoped that by doing this he would miss me and realize how important and special I was.  I honestly thought that this would change our relationship, that he would realize what an amazing wife I was and accept me for who I AM and who I was becoming.

Oh I was definitely LEAPING FORWARD at this point but wasn’t ready to stop looking for validation from outside of me yet.  I could feel something inside of me stirring, I just didn’t know what it was.

Though I wasn’t aware of it then, I had once again chosen a situation, a person, a life, that made me feel the way I thought of myself.  I did not believe I was worthy of love and acceptance for who I was.  I believed that other people were better than me for whatever the reason.  I chose to continue the pattern of thinking that if I just did this, that or the other thing, that my value would increase and I would be as good as other people.  If I got married, had a baby and supported my husband in his adventures, then I would be accepted by him (he spoke so highly of the other wives).  If I did these things I would be like all the other people that surrounded us and this would make me their equal.  He was highly looked up to by his friends and family that I thought if I was his wife and not just his girlfriend, they might look at me that way too and I would be seen.  I did kept the promise I made to myself after my first marriage. I did not allow any person to hit me or verbally abuse me again.  In the end though, old habits die hard.  I once again chose a person with whom I would have to constantly beg for love and respect.  This had NOTHING to do with him, and EVERYTHING to do with me.  It was MY journey and I chose to make him a part of it.  I turned into a miserable bitch, unhappy, begging all the time, and he suffered too.  I have no regrets for the choices I’ve made, but I am sorry that he ended up hurt because of my insecurities and the false beliefs I had of myself.  It was never my intention to hurt him.  This chapter of my life is deeper than I can share in a blog.  It was the complete dismantling of me.

IT WAS ALSO THE MOST IMPORTANT PART TO REASSEMBLING MYSELF.

The next part of the adventure has been the most exciting!!!