Suburban Goddess

The past few months have passed in a gray haze; the hands of the clock spiral quickly around, seeming to increase in speed exponentially. I find myself looking into the eyes of a five-year-old child where a helpless baby used to be.

Five years.

March marks five years since Alex came into my life and turned it upside down. The irresponsible, reckless, fearless woman that was once me was replaced by a woman with a purpose, a dream, and a priceless responsibility. That new woman is so drastically different from the old one, that the old one is a distant memory. The change was so drastic that my then-husband no longer recognized me…. but neither did I. Our paths no longer coincided; his went in a different direction, but I knew my calling.

I was a mother now.

The past three years have been harder than anything I’ve ever experienced in my life; without the kindness of friends, family, and perfect strangers, I say I couldn’t make it through… but I would have. For the sake of my daughter, I would make it through on sheer force; when the duct tape no longer worked, brute will would hold it together. It’s been a challenge for me; God likes to remind me that I’m not in control. Never has that become more obvious until he placed this miracle in my life.

But with the challenges and the hardships have also come an unspeakable love, unwavering strength, and renewed faith. When you lose enough, you start to realize that life-changing risks aren’t so scary anymore. I find myself WANTING to jump, where in the past, I’d cower as far away from the edge as possible. Those success stories, when you hear about people who fail miserably or lose everything before they make it big; I can relate now. I’ve lost everything twice in my life, and look! I survived!  I keep coming out better each time, too… maybe I’m not a financial powerhouse yet, but the friends I’ve made and the experiences that these paths have led me to, I can’t tell you how amazing the journey has been so far! And I know, I KNOW that some really hard times are in my future… possibly my near future… and yet I’m not afraid anymore. Of course, I have my moments, but I know that with every valley comes another peak. And I’ve even learned to embrace the lows; never do I sleep more soundly until grief completely wreaks havoc. You cry, you sob, you scream, you throw: then you sleep, a quiet, dark, dreamless sleep, and when the light comes in the morning, you may have puffy eyes, but it’s a little easier.

But the time…. it just keeps getting faster. And each moment is more precious, yet harder and harder to hold on to. Today, she’s almost five.  Tomorrow, almost 25.

Hold on, hold on, hold on.

For years I’ve persecuted cheaters. I’ve run them through the ringer, cast my judgement, thrown my poison pen at them… called them out for the dogs they are, and spit venom on them at every chance I was given. Which is kind of funny, because that makes me a big, freaking hypocrite.

It’s not like I never cheated. I have. I’ve cheated little and I’ve cheated big. I’m guilty of the “harmless” emotional cheating, and I’ve physically fallen into the arms of other men. I always had an excuse; some well-crafted sob-story played out in my head so that when I was caught (and I ALWAYS got caught), I could play the victim. Sometimes, I even BELIEVED I was the victim. And it was all fun and games until it happened to me.

Your perspective changes when someone you believe in hurts you that way, especially when you never see it coming.  A candid conversation with an ex taught me how much damage you can truly do. His words hurt, cut me to the ore, but I deserved them. I wish I could take it back. I can’t. Our lives traveled in two different directions at that moment; there was no way for our paths to coincide after what I’d done. They’ve crossed many times since then… but that mistake still haunts us, and what could have been something truly special is nothing more than a Christmas card once a year and some happy memories of a life less complicated or a life that could have been.

It’s been on a mind a lot lately because so many lives close to me are touched by it. Cheating. It’s so easy these days. Emails, text messages, social networking. In Houston, it’s ridiculously easy; blame your tardiness on traffic. The moral fabric seems to be unraveling, one thread at a time.

“It’s just a harmless text.”  No, it’s not.

“Nothing’s going to happen, we’re both married.” Something IS happening. And people are watching.

“She’ll never find out.” God, I hope not.

Because once it’s broken, it’s broken forever. I remember Chip holding up a photograph of me, happy and laughing on our wedding day. “I want THIS girl back. Where did THIS girl go?”

“You KILLED her.”

There was no more true statement then that, and he’s not the first to say it to me; I could never go back to that happy, carefree, loving person after his level of betrayal. How could he expect me to? And the worst part is that he refused to take responsibility for his role; in his mind, he was justified in leaving me. I wasn’t the same girl; he didn’t sign up for a life with a girl who might change.

But she did.

I’ve been with people who have been cheated on, too. After a while, I began to understand why their girls cheated. It’s not that they weren’t truly great guys… but they were so disconnected that they emotionally starved those women to death. One in particular gave me a story about how his ex said hateful things to him constantly. Like, “I hate you.” There were times in our relationship that those words hovered on my lips as well, but I recognize them for what they are; a desperation tactic. Because nothing else seems to get through the wall….

You hit a point where you are so lonely, so desperate, that you give up hope of change and just start looking for a way to stop the pain. Maybe it’s simply bailing out; maybe it’s looking for comfort in another person’s arms. Maybe it’s pushing every button you can to evoke some response; rarely is the response the one you want. More often than not, it’s more damaging than the silence would have been. Certainly it’s easier to fall when someone else is there to catch you… and that’s easier than the alternative. Confrontation. Communication. Work, work, work…. Constantly working at something for the rest of your life…

I look for the happy endings. There are many, but not enough; people who have learned from their mistakes. People who truly respect their significant others. People who recognize that love takes a little effort, but it’s worth it. People who can fight the temptation.

Those people give me hope. Maybe, just maybe there’s a happy ending in it for me.