Married, Divorced, Married: That’s Not My Love StoryNovember 27, 2020
I’ve been married, divorced and married again, but that’s just not my love story.
This week the anniversary of my separation from my first marriage came and went, and I forgot about it on the day-of.
I guess my mind wasn’t trapped in shame or old memories.
To be honest, I was just too busy in the now.
My new memories.
If this were my love story, upon first glance the book reads like this:
“Woman marries young, and has three children, divorces a decade later, becomes a single mother, and the man of her dreams comes along and they ride off into the sunset”
It’s highly romanticized that way, but misses the part where all the love really happened.
On all the pages IN the book.
And the missing pages that never get written and sit just in her heart.
It’s about fear.
The freedom from shame.
It’s about family.
Sit-in-the-mud with me, grow-my-garden with me friendships.
It’s about pain.
A love for oneself that grew from ashes.
It’s about standing on your own two feet, but sometimes letting someone help you carry the bags.
It isn’t about a failed marriage and a successful one.
It’s about the human who flowed through chapters, allowing them to shape her, teach her, hurt her and heal her.
The love story was for her.
Because the love story WAS her.
I love my husband.
But…he does not complete me.
He isn’t my second half either.
For he is my partner.
Two, whole individuals, partnered together in a relationship.
And yeah, I certainly rely on him a lot.
He is an important part of my life and support system.
I want to say “I don’t know what I’d do without him”
That is more hope than fact. I don’t WANT to do without him.
But I know now, that I can.
My love story taught me that.
So while we love love, partnered with another.
I love love with our own selves… just a tiny bit more.
We don’t throw parties for it.
Don’t cut cakes for it.
Don’t put on big gowns to celebrate it.
Or wear rings to mark its significance.
Because it’s not on the book covers and sometimes not even on the pages.
Yet it remains to be the greatest of all love stories.
For me, of all time.