Hope

      It wasn't too long ago that I stood on the brink of a major change in my life. It was part choice, part necessity and one hundred percent terrifying. I felt as if I was standing on the edge of cliff.

     My marriage had been a roller-coaster ride. When things were good, they were all I'd dreamed. When they weren't, the emotional chaos, the fear was palpable. In between I spent months walking on eggshells.

     As my son and I stood in our empty new apartment, we knew we were safe. But we stood there all alone. We knew no one in the neighborhood. I'd been isolated from developing friendships with coworkers outside of work hours. Our closest friends had been through my former husband's church. We had just gone against everything they believed in by leaving. 

     I couldn't imagine how our life, my life could find a new normal - a normal that was full, rewarding and emotionally satisfying. Would Thanksgiving and Christmas just be my son and I in our bare apartment. I didn't see a lot of hope standing in the barren living room.

     Three and a half years latter, standing in the middle of that same living room is so very different from that first day. The room is warm, cozy and inviting. My pets cuddle up with me when I set on the couch watching television. I see a bright optimistic future.

      The contrast made me wonder how I shifted from hopeless to optimistic. From barren existence to flourishing life. So I decided to spend some time digging through those days and reflecting to see what I could learn.

Focus on Gains

     As the days turned into weeks, I sometimes question my choice. Perhaps he could change. Perhaps we could build a better life. If I had continued focusing on the what ifs, I probably would have given up and returned to the abusive relationship of my past. But the one emotion that surfaced as time passed was a growing sense of freedom.

     I remember walking in the door of my apartment after a long day at work. That feeling of independence. For someone like me, it was such a huge win. That gain became my focus. I couldn't give up. I had to see it through. 

Reach Out to Others

     I'll admit this one was difficult for me. I can be a bit of an introvert. Some of my efforts to reach out to others was due to my son's gregariousness. As he made friends with other children in the apartment complex, I made friends with contacts. I also used tools like Meetup,com  to find groups with similar interests as I have. 

     Now my son and I have a large network of friends. Some are closer than others. Some more like family than just friends. My worry of holidays spent alone were in vain. Reaching out to others created that feeling of family, belonging that I needed. Things were beginning  to look up for us.

Plan for a Better Future 

     Gradually my son and I began to plan for a better future. Yes, we started small. A workable budget. A weekend get-away to the beach.

     Eventually I started dreaming of what I wanted for my long-term future. I took steps to make it a reality. I took classes. I started researching starting a business. I created a plan. I  started working it. Things started falling into place. The future was mine.

Ralph W. Sockman once said, "Nothing is so strong as gentleness. Nothing is so strong as real gentleness." I believe that when strength and gentleness are blended, hope springs up in the midst.

A Journey through the Mountains

Earlier this week, a friend and I took our sons to the coast for a last hurrah before summer ended and school began. We headed out from Portland with an active six year-old and a bored twelve year-old.

The ninety minute drive was a long and tedious ride for the six year-old in the back seat of my car. The road twisted and turned as it wound through the Coastal Mountain Range of the Pacific Northwest.

Before we reached the beach, we stopped to visit the Tillamook Cheese Factory. Up on the observation deck we watched cheese being sliced and packaged. Afterwards we enjoyed some of their extra creamy ice cream. Five different flavors.

As we left and were heading out to play in the sand, the youngest exclaimed with heart felt consternation, “I sure hope we don't have to go through any mountains to get to the beach!"

The sentiment of my young friend rang true for me. When I had reached the stage in my marriage where I was feeling desperate to escape from the emotional roller coaster of abuse, desperate to feel safe, I was at a point where I just didn't want to deal with it anymore. I didn't want to fight any longer. I remember wishing someone or something would come waltzing into my life and rescue me. I longed to be free!

Like my young friend, I wanted, wanted so much, to get to that final destination. However I definitely did not want to go through “anymore mountains." 

The mountains where fraught with fear and uncertainty. I'd have to admit my marriage was a failure. Acknowledge that I was a victim of domestic violence. Face being a single mother and figure out my finances so I could support my son and I.

I absolutely did not want to go through the mountains! I didn't want to, but I had to. I had to make that hard choice, travel that difficult road regardless of how I felt.

Whether figurative or literal a journey through the mountains can't be done without some planning and preparation.

Reach Out for Support
As I started to prepare to take my son and leave my husband, I started by reaching out to my friends and family. Despite the shame I felt, I spoke out and shared the truth about my marriage. I reached out to community resources that support women in crisis.

Once in my new community, I continued reaching out and building that network of support. It's a practice I continue to this day.

Grab the Map and Start Planning
Getting through the mountains doesn't happen by accident. And usually there isn't a night in shining armor that sweeps in and rescues us. More often we have to grab the map and start planning our route.

For me this meant figuring out what resources I had that would allow me to finance my move. It called for me to to pull those resources together. I had to research school logistics for my son; and what neighborhood we would call home. I mapped out a budget to manage my finances.

I can't say what planning you may need to do. You may want to consider these questions:
What resources do you have that could help you along the way?
What resources might you need?
What information might you need?
What steps need to be taken to reach your destination?

Feel Your Emotions but Don't Let Them Hold You Back
As you start your journey through the mountains, your emotions will run the gambit. It's important to acknowledge the feelings. Sit with them and feel them. Your emotions may give you clues to where you may need to adjust your plan,  just don't allow them to hold you back.

On the first day in our new home, the fear was palpable. As I moved through the process, there were moments of doubt and guilt. I felt each emotion, looked to see if I need to adjust course or if I should stay the course.

Luckily for my little friend, the final road to the beach didn't involve mountains. But should your path require the assent, embrace the journey.

If you are imminent danger, please reach out immediately to crisis resources in your community.

#Change; #Plan; #Prepare; #Endurance

Walking into the Stormy Sea of Transition

Stormy Sea by Alexlinde on deviantART

Transitions great and small are a part of our lives. And what may seem insurmountable today may well look insignificant tomorrow.

For my son, halfway through pre-K, the transition to kindergarten was the most terrifying thing he could imagine. He did not possess a frame of reference that would allow him to understand that in a few short months, he would be ready for that change. All he knew was that he was being asked to walk into the raging, boundlessness of the ocean. He had no way to know if the waters would part and he would walk across on dry land or if he would rise above the waves to walk on top. He saw waves. Big, powerful, swallow-you-up waves. And he was expected to walk into them and potentially drown.

Likewise, when I took my son and left an abusive marriage, I had no window into the future. I had no way to imagine a life with emotional security or financial stability. While I kept looking at the past and focusing on the parts of it I dreaded giving up, I knew I didn't like the alternative I was facing. And so, like my son, I choose to walk into the tumultuous, stormy sea.

There were dark days when it felt like the riptide would pull me under. There were days when the storm was less intense and I could float and bask in the sense of personal safety that was now a part of my life. 

As the days past, there was no magical parting of the waters. There was no abracadabra moment where I found myself walking on top of the waves. I needed to build my own raft. I had to make choices that allowed me to move from struggling, to surviving, to eventually thriving.

The choices you are facing as you work to build your own raft may very well be different. And while it most likely doesn't feel like you are wise enough or smart enough, trust that you are. 

Start by figuring out what you need most to begin to calm the storm. For me, I realized that if I was to maintain my independence, I needed to solidify my finances. I had a job, but I didn't have a spending plan and found that I kept running short. I sat down with my son, who was ten at the time, and created a plan. Having him play a role in the process ended up being a major part of our success.

Just taking one step will create a buoy to help keep you a float and start to shift the control back to you. So what is that first step for you? 

#change, #transitions, #choice