I’ve been around the sun a few times. I am firmly in between middle age and old age with all of the experience, lessons, wisdom (?), heartache and joy that that entails. I’ve had a voice and I’ve been silenced. Now I have a voice again. I hope to share what I’ve learned and help you along your path.

THE PERILS & JOYS OF MARRIAGE

I have been married twice. I’m not particularly proud of that, but it is what it is. My first marriage was a huge mistake; it didn’t even last two years. He cheated – of course. But if I am being perfectly honest, I was relieved as much as I was heartbroken. It was not right. The biggest lesson from this marriage: listen to yourself! If your brain and soul are screaming “don’t do it!!!” then DON’T DO IT!! I promise you……as much as it will be embarrassing, horrible, mortifying, disappointing – it is nothing compared to being married to the wrong person. That is a day in and day out agony that I don’t wish on anyone. He knew it too, which is why he cheated.

My second marriage was lust at first sight. Then friendship. Lots of laughter and fun. Then love. Then marriage. It was a much better fit in so many ways. But, once again I ignored the red flags that were waving fast and furiously.

We went to see a counselor about another member of his family, and she said at the end of the session that I needed to be cautious; he would push me away and make me work really hard to prove that I loved him. Because I was madly in love, I didn’t believe her, even though I had seen evidence of that in his other relationships. I was certain that I could love him hard enough and well enough that we would overcome anything. I was wrong.

We got engaged in his little red Datsun in front of his mother’s house. He used his grandmother’s wedding band, but promised a diamond was forthcoming when he’d saved enough money. I could care less about a diamond. Having been married once before the luster of the whole “big engagement ring” had definitely been tarnished. We married in 1990 at my closest girlfriend’s’ parents’ home. Small and intimate; more like a large dinner party. Everybody contributed something to the dinner (one friend was a chef, another provided music) and the evening was perfect. For the next several years we experienced many adventures, lots of laughter, some arguments, tons of socializing and an almost immediate cessation (or at least a huge slow down) of sex. We didn’t even have sex on our wedding night. Now, for a girl who has an anxious attachment style – wish I had known that term then – the lack of physical intimacy was absolutely devastating. I immediately gained 25 pounds from stuffing my feelings down, which only served to make me feel less attractive and less desirable. I created a ‘reason’ for him not to desire me since I couldn’t possibly think the problem might be him. I basically insulated myself (with extra weight) from the hurt and rejection. I also used to play a very dangerous game of ‘how long can he go without sex,’ which just set me up for more rejection. I’ll go into more of this later because this part of my life affected me for years and y ears to come.

Fast forward to 5 years into the marriage and we had moved to Seattle to start a family and be near my parents. The move was very spontaneous. On my parent’s advice we bought the house sight unseen, started the process of trying to transfer our jobs to the area and sold our sweet beach house and moved. Neither one of us anticipated how difficult and depressing the move would be. We lost our extremely active social life; our closest friends were now hundreds of miles away and I had to take a huge step down in my career just to get a job. The house was a bitter disappointment. I would lie on the floor and cry while my poor husband started drinking to numb himself. This would turn into a prevalent theme in our marriage, but more on that later.

LET’S HAVE A BABY

We also had the additional stress of trying to get pregnant. Now, when you don’t have a lot of sex you might think it was difficult, but I actually got pregnant several times. Sadly though, each pregnancy ended in a miscarriage. When we moved it took two years, but I finally got pregnant again and once I was past the danger zone, we announced the pregnancy to our family & friends. We were overjoyed! My pregnancy was easy, comfortable, joyful. Our marriage was at an all-time high.

On July 11, 1997, I saw the doctor for a checkup. I was, as he put it, “tight as a drum.” The baby wasn’t due for another 6 weeks. On Monday, July 14, I went into labor. It was fast and furious; our daughter Mackenzie was born in under 2 hours. She was perfect. Duck down reddish golden hair, pink and sweet. Her APGAR score was surprisingly good. She nursed right away. We went through the typical preemie baby protocol steps and then we were released to go home. The trouble began two weeks after Mackenzie was born. I am dedicating an entire section to what happened because there are a lot of lessons to share. Suffice it to say the next 5 years of my life were an absolute living hell.

THE EMOTIONAL AFTERMATH

Fast forward to today. I endured years of chronic stress, anxiety, depression, injuries and surgeries. I went through my second divorce. I was a single mom raising a special needs child without any financial help and very little emotional support. I had an amazing career until it wasn’t so amazing. I retired early. And I have spent the past four years undoing the damage I have done to myself and the damage that was done to me. There is a lot to unpack and many lessons to share. If you’ve stuck with me this far, I hope you’ll stick around for the rest of the story. There is life after darkness. You just need to be brave enough to look it in the face, flip it off and do the work.

Avanti.