I went to see a therapist today. I was sort of anxious to go, I haven't been to one by myself...truly by myself...no kids to interrupt thoughts because I have no babysitter, or family therapy sort of thing....since I was a teenager.
This was the first "session", which of course wasn't really a session. It was a "hey, let's get to know each other, why are you here, what do you think you may need therapy for?" initial session. I can answer questions like that, can't I? Of course!
But by the second or third question, my voice got shaky. My eyes started to water. I had to blink back tears. Towards the end, my therapist asked me a very simple question, and the tears just bursted forth.
"Why are you crying?" she asked.
"I...don't know," I responded.
"What about that question brought you to tears?"
"Nothing, really. I'm not entirely sure why I'm crying. It's not about that question," I said, awkward pause lingering in the air.
She didn't know how to probe on that, and neither did I.
But, on the drive to the grocery store, thoughts...answers I gave...swirled around in my head. And as the answers I gave echoed around in my brain, the tears returned. I tried to push them aside, blew my nose a few times, and sat in the parking lot until my eyes didn't look so red.
Tonight, I texted a guy who I have been seeing(but not very long, obviously). He said he'd call to talk about an issue we'd been running into during the(very) short time we had been dating. When he called and tried to talk about everything else, I confronted him and he admitted he didn't want to talk about it. He wanted to forget it, pretend the issue wasn't an issue and act like it never happened. This was not the first time he had done this, but I had set a boundary line. If he didn't want to acknowledge it, then we were done talking(and dating). I said my goodbye and hung up the phone. He called a few more times, then texted me in panic mode. I tried to be the bigger person and just not respond.
Then I thought, you know what? I'm TIRED of being the bigger person. I'm tired of trying not to hurt a man's feelings when they hurt me. Excuse my french, but FUCK THAT. I spent all of my dating(and married) life trying to end things on a friendly note. I told him exactly what the problem was, that I was trying really hard to resolve this in a healthy way, but since he doesn't want to, he can go fuck off because I'm tired of doing unhealthy. Life is too short, I've spent too many years doing unhealthy(in many ways than one, but especially in relationships).
(Yes, I know I should have run the other way when a guy said he was interested in me and wanted to date even though he knew I was in the process of a divorce. Not my brightest moment, okay?!?!)
I thought about the therapy session, the answers I gave, the answers I didn't give, the interaction with the man tonight, my soon-to-be ex-husband, and...why am I crying again?!?!
I thought about the last several times I've cried. The times I've cried in my car driving down backroads. The times I've cried in my bathroom. The many times I've cried in my bed.
What brought on those tears?
One word-POTENTIAL.
I would be lying if I said I hadn't cried more within the last 6 months than I am now that the divorce is actually happening.
I'm not crying over the divorce itself. Looking back, I should have done it sooner. I don't regret starting the divorce. I don't feel an ounce of "Christian shame" that I'm ending something that for so many years was drilled in my head to keep, maintain, and uphold no matter what UNLESS your spouse is beating you senseless or actively cheating on you with a person nearby.
I am, however, crying over the potential of the marriage. Aaron and I had dreamed a lot together, but as year one turned into year two, and continued on, I started to see a pattern. A pattern of dreams unfulfilled. Another year of unrealized dreams slipping away.
And then I thought back to the very first conversation I had with the guy I dated. As we walked and talked, I stumbled on a truth within myself.
"All the relationships I've had ended because I realized I always have a need to grow, to be better, to do better...and the men I've encountered are attracted to that. I don't doubt some want to be that person as well. Most do. But when I'm ready to make stuff happen and they're giving me excuses...I'm done. I give them a few tries, but I don't live my life that way. Everyone's allowed to have setbacks here and there, but to always be there isn't the way I want to live my life. We only get one life. I refuse to live it halfway."
And I saw the look. The same one every man has given me when I start to share my dreams with them. And they share their dreams with me. When I tell them, yes, you absolutely can do that dream, why not? Go try!
I don't know what to call that look. But it's not the "finally, someone who thinks the same way I do!" look. But the "wow! YOU can make me better!" look.
I should have known better.
Then I thought about something I had heard an actress say during an interview.
"Black women in particular need to lay off that "strong" thing. That's a trap. When you say things like "strong black woman", it makes us superhuman. And it makes people think we can conquer anything. And we...have to be careful with that word(strong). You want to be strong, but that can't be your label..." (Taraji P. Henson)
I'm tired of being the better person. I'm tired of being someone else's cheerleader, but not having a winning team. I'm tired of sharing my heart's dreams with men, only to realize if any are to come true, it has to be between me and God alone. I'm tired of always being the strong one and not being fed strength back into me when I show a moment of weakness before putting my big girl undies back on to deal with the next goal.
I'm tired of mourning lost potential.
Guess it's time to take my own advice...it's time to take the HEALTHY way.
By myself.
For myself.
I've also realized I have said something to myself a lot more since realizing my marriage was heading towards divorce. It was this- I don't NEED a man. I love men for obvious...uh..." physical" reasons(I REALLY love them for that if they know what they're doing), but that, as wonderful as it is, isn't a healthy reason to keep an unhealthy man.
I'd like a man, I'd really like a man that would check all the boxes for a healthy relationship for me...however, I do not need a man to be healthy. I do not need a man to move forward in my goals(well, some, yes, but the majority of them? No.). I have the ability to be my own cheerleader...because I've no choice BUT to be my own cheerleader to make the goals I've set and accomplished happen.
I don't like to be strong all the time. I don't(entirely) like the idea that I'm most likely going to be doing this...moving towards healthy, moving towards better mental health...alone. Some days, those big girl undies look daunting, especially when you have no help putting them on.
But...I'm tired of mourning lost potential a little more.
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