Fall and I have always been “frenemies”.  I love the fall; the colors, smells, the cool breezes, and sweaters.  It’s always been my favorite season.  But the fall has not always agreed with me.  Big life changes seem to happen in the fall.  Friends come and go.  Marriages end and new relationships start.  Marathons are run and marathons are quit.  Whole worlds change in a matter of just a few short months.

For some reason the fall always makes me feel nostalgic for past times, even when the past wasn’t always good to me, even when the present is so much better.  I think about the friends that have walked away willingly and the friends that I have pushed away without even knowing I was doing it.  I start to think: maybe I should reach out.  Maybe I should make more of an effort to reconnect.  Maybe I should remind them of how things used to be and let them know we can have it again.

And then I think…no.  It’s better this way.

I like my life right now.  Correction, I love it.  And I’m starting to realize that this wouldn’t be my life right now if I continued to hold on to things that were not for me anymore.

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I just read back over what I wrote and realized…it’s ridiculous.  It’s not the post I wanted to write at all.

I tend to do this.  I get these thoughts in my head about what I want to write about, and then in order to not make anyone upset at me, or in order to make things seem sunnier, I use flowery words to talk about how the changes in my life have made me who I am.  It’s not the journey, but the destination.  Some people are meant to come and go, while others are meant to stay.  And all kinds of other cliched crap that we all spout to make ourselves feel better in the weak moments.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I most certainly believe those things.  If you know me at all, you know I love a good inspirational saying, made all pretty, and instagrammed with a lovely hashtag to remind people (and myself) that life gets better and all that.  But I realize now, I tend to hide behind these posts.  I tend to hide behind these ideas.  I tend to hide behind the overly typed words of my blog so that I don’t have to face the real feelings that I have at that moment.

And why?  Because I’m scare someone might read it and get mad or upset?  Because I’m scared someone might judge me?  Yes.  Both of these things are true, but it’s also because I’m scared of actually addressing the feelings that I have.  Because when you do address them they become real, and no amount of pinterested life quotes can make them any better.

So after all that excess and explanation, here is what I really wanted to say.

In the past few years, I’ve lost quite a few friends.  Some who I were close with got significant others and the friendship fell off.  Some friendships fell apart when we realized we weren’t meant for the long haul…that were were friends simply for circumstances or to fill a hole momentarily while we waited for someone else.  Some friendships ended out of betrayal, on both parts.

For a while (ok in full honesty, for a long time) I was bitter. I tried to change for other people, I tried to be the person they wanted me to be.  And when that didn’t work I turned it all inward. I was judgemental…so judgemental.  And gossipy.  And mean.  And so many other things.  But then I simply got tired.  I got tired of making all the effort.  I got tired of being dropped or replaced. And I really got tired of carrying around the resentment and ill feelings I felt towards these people. Maybe it just wasn’t in the cards for them to be a long term part of my life.  And that’s ok.

How much more time and energy was I willing to give up?  And the answer now is none.  No more fake promises and plans.  No more hiding behind flowery words.  It’s simply time to embrace my life how it is.  And you know what?  It really is an amazing life.  And not to sound cliche, but every single misstep I’ve taken has gotten me to this point.  Life’s too short to carry around baggage and resentments.  If you fill up with all the bad stuff…where are the blessings going to go?

Having the last two days off have helped me quite a lot.  I’ve been able to relax and think.  I’ve been able to process and work through past issues I’ve had.  I really do think I’m at the place where I’m ready to live my best life.  No more hiding. No more feel of judgement.  No more judging others.  No more bitterness.  Just me.

It came out of nowhere.  I wasn’t at all prepared for it.

The calmness of things going right.

The past year has been a struggle (to put it mildly).  Anger and sadness consumed my days and nights, even when it shouldn’t have.  I dreaded everything.  Work.  Being at home.  Even waking up most mornings.

When I moved out, I thought this would be the catalyst for peace and happiness.  I assumed just the act of moving out was going to make everything right in world.  That somehow this one single act was enough.

I was wrong.  As a matter of fact, for the first month it was worse.  Everyone was unhappy.  Everyone was still miserable.  There was so much crying.  The nastiness from both kids and adults was unreal.

And then, one day, it wasn’t.  It was almost like the tides had turned or a strong fall breeze blew away the bitterness.

Things are working out.  Schedules have been set. Civility and sometimes even friendliness have taken the place of the anger and resentment that have lived there for so long.  And the kids…the changes in them since things have become more settled and secure is amazing.

I think we all feel it.  And by all I really do mean ALL.

I wake up most mornings and immediately think: what am I supposed to be worrying about today?  And you know what?  Nothing really comes.  I’ll always have the generic worries: money, work, money, time, money.  But those are just things that come with being an adult (ugh).  My mind is no longer consumed with negativity all the time.

I am no longer worried about how I’m simply going to make it through the day alive.  I no longer have to make bets and promises with myself about not yelling or losing my temper.  I no longer have to think that I’m the most terrible mom, wife, friend, person every minute of every day.

And it feels amazing.

*I wrote this blog a while ago, but I’m republishing it, because after the last few days it’s more pertinent than ever.*

It’s been awhile since my last post.  And the same plethora of all and nothing has happened as usual.  I’d like to report that I’ve continued being brave.  I haven’t backed down.  I haven’t made false promises that I don’t intend to keep in order to make my life easier. I’ve stood my insanely shaky ground without falling; proudly and with vehemence.

What I can’t say is that it has made my fight any easier.  In fact, not shockingly, it has made it worse.  Because the more I fight to get out, the more he fights to keep me in.  No matter that I tell him it’s not working.  No matter that I tell him that fighting with me is counter-productive; it’s actually making things worse.  No matter that I tell him this IS going to happen, the fighting continues.

We’ve been here before.  If you know me, you know this.  You also know that for the most part I’m a giant coward.  I hate confrontation, and when the work gets tough (and I mean really tough) I tend to quit…making excuses upon excuses for why I’m doing it, but quitting none the less.  It’s better if I stay.  I can’t leave him with nothing.  The kids will be better off.  Every single god-awful cliche has been used and each time I stay it’s like a little piece of me breaks off and crumbles; shatters and blows away like dust.  Just a little each time…not enough to notice to the untrained eye, but enough for me to feel less than.

And this cycle repeated for so many years.  Outwardly, I look whole but inside there is just emptiness.  And I told myself this was my penance for wrong doings.  I was paying for mistakes I made in the past.  That eventually everything would just be ok.

And then she was born.

Charlotte.

My boys are my boys, but she is my GIRL.  Just saying her name gives me hope and pride. She’s stubborn, and fiery, and feisty.  She’s smart and no nonsense.  She’s emotional (sometimes overly so).  Yet, with all those things I know to be true, she reminds me every day that she has to be taught that her thoughts and feelings are ok and justified, unlike her brothers that are born into that privilege.

And she is why I fight, when maybe I couldn’t before.  So she never has to think she doesn’t have a choice.  So she never has to think that another person gets to make her decisions for her and tell her how to think and feel.  So she never has to think she has to stay somewhere she doesn’t want to be.  With someone she doesn’t love.

So that she knows it’s always, ALWAYS ok to walk away and try again.

That if she’s in the wrong story…it’s ok to leave.