I have written a lot of words about feels. Today, or rather yesterday, I was a war within myself. As I march along the path toward divorce and being an open self on the other side, I have milestones I must cross. I must get my spouse to “agree” and release me. I must develop a way to work with him through our many viewpoints that are different. I need not to own his reaction to me or my needs. We must talk to the kids about the relationship and its direction, and we must do those discussions on parallel pathway with parallel milestones to accomplish.
I know this to be the right path for me. I cannot shake the guilt that I am dragging my family through the path they wouldn’t choose. I feel selfish. I feel small. I feel weak. That person though, that feels those things…she is the one I once was. The person I am now, she needs to be seen.
All at once
I am child fearful and mother soothing.
I am the silence stationary and rage moving.
I am wife, mother, teacher, lover, friend.
I am labels for others that never end.
I am certain the path I travel is right.
I am grief consumed in every fight.
I am all things at once, all masks competing
I am moving toward me, myself, whole, completing.
All at once, raw beauty and hideous mess.
All at once, the truth undenied, open mouth will profess.
These days are filled with shocking grief and realization that even when right, there is pain. Even when certain, there are questions. Even when finishing, there are blockades. Even when all out of words, there are things that must be said. Even while shedding the fear, this is absolute panic. Even while surrounded by people, this is solitude.