Confessions of a Super Hero
Other possible titles:
If I tell you what I really think, will you call me a bitter divorcé ?
Words you write when you are out of Xanax.
There is not enough Botox in the world to hide the fact that I feel tired and old.
Misguided Musings of a 30 something single mom.
In just two years I’ve become a real life super hero, this is my story:
“We don’t have to talk, we are not friends”.
That was all I could manage to say. That was the last thing that I said. I didn’t look at him again. I didn’t look at her either. I just rolled up my window and drove away. I don’t know where they went. Maybe to celebrate his new found freedom, or to revel in the fact that they had won some great prize in an out of court settlement that included very little time with the kids and even less financial support. I don’t know where they went, and does it really matter? He had made his choice and I would make mine. And so I closed the door on ten years of my life.
Ten years of hopes and dreams.
Ten years of joy and laughter.
Ten years of fighting and strife.
Of contention and hurt and more heartache then our marriage was capable of withstanding.
I closed the door behind me and stared out into a world full of terrifying possibilities, armed with only the tiniest glimmer of hope that somehow, in the end, all the wrongs would be made right.
“In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”
It’s important to note that by this time I had been a single mom for over a year. Gone were the nights of holding my children as they cried themselves to bed and then slipping into my own bed to do the same. Gone was the fear and worry that my former “stay at home mom” status would prevent me from ever getting a good job, or a good job that I liked. Gone was the fear that I would never be wanted, and that what I could offer would never be enough. And the loneliness that once threatened to rob me of all future joy; was more of a dull ache only noticeable when I focused on it, and I never did.
At this point in my life I tried to date. I use that word “try”, about as loosely as you can use any word, because in hindsight, I did not “try” at all. I got out of these “relationships” exactly what I put into them, basically nothing. To be fair, I’m not sure I was ever good at dating… I mean, I was married at 21 so that leaves only my high school boyfriends to chime in… but please don’t because that would be insanely uncomfortable.
The point is this; it is extremely awkward for Christians to date after a divorce. Call me a hopeless romantic, but still hard to forget how, “the one” turned out. And while I totally agree there are a lot of someone betters out there for me, I am plagued with the reality that there is also someone worse, and that guy makes being single seem pretty stinking wonderful. And so, I am content to wait. On time, healing, confidence, hundreds of cats to take over my home and drive me out into the street where I am forced to make new friends, God, anything… I am just waiting. And trusting that when it is right, I’ll know.
Things that steal my joy:
Not having enough time with my kids.
Watching them miss their dad.
Knowing that my chances of marrying Bradley Cooper are basically non-existent.
Seeing them disappointed.
Knowing that even at my best, I will never be both a mother and a father.
Seeing them disappointed again.
Being so tired my body aches.
Seeing them disappointed again and again and again.
Commuting 2 hours a day and then coming home and feeling like a zombie.
The road map of wrinkles that line my forehead.
Things that bring me joy:
Being able to provide for my kids.
Daydreaming about sharing a front porch and a double rocking chair with Bradley Cooper.
A community of friends and family who held my arms up when I was too weak to walk.
Disco dance parties in my daughter’s room.
The way my son looks at me with such gratitude and pride when I come home from work.
All of the things that make up Elly’s world.
All of the things that make up Nicky’s world.
Knowing that I am building a legacy in them, and they will always be my proudest accomplishment.
Knowing that I am not alone, and that I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.
Feeling loved every day.
Having a front row seat in the lives of two really cool little humans.
Remembering that this is only one chapter and that the rest has already been written and is just waiting to be read.
In truth, some days are awesome and other days suck. I can appreciate that I am not a conventional superhero. An argument can be made that there is nothing super or heroic about me… get behind me Satan.
Although it may be fair to say there is nothing spectacular or even particularly interesting about my life right now. I’m trying to do the best with the cards in my hand, like all of the other amazing parents I know. Still, there are seasons of motherhood that seem more trying than others. This has been mine. And so, you will forgive my bold self-proclaimed superhero status, and just remember sometimes I need to be reminded that I am more than a conqueror.
“No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.”
This blog is for moms like me. Your lives are not perfect, but you wake up every day and you do the best with what you have been given. You are beautiful and your story matters.