Achingly, Beautifully Hard

Sometimes even when life seems easy, it still feels hard.

Achingly, beautifully hard. 

And I used to think that during these times, I was supposed to fight the feelings and pretend that it didn't feel hard.

I now know that that is not the case---I am allowed to feel like life is hard, like it is a never-ending case of bad news and failure.
I am allowed to see the darkness and acknowledge that there are some pretty rotten things in our world.

It is ok to recognize the bad and label it as such.

But recognizing the bad doesn't mean we forget about the good. It doesn't mean that hope is nonexistent.

So today feels bad. It feels like a day I am not strong enough to get through. It feels like a day where everyone is laughing at me behind my back and wondering why I'm making such a fool of myself.

It feels hopeless. 

But somewhere inside of me, there is a glimmer of fragile hope, a reminder that this day isn't the only day of my life.

Twenty-six months of being on my own---stressing about dating---realizing I can't change other people---changing a lot of things about myself.
I couldn't have looked back to twenty-six months ago and seen what I am currently seeing. I couldn't have even guessed the questions and the faith changes and the solidifying peace mixed with sheer terror.

Peace and terror. 

Many people have told me these things can't go hand in hand. They've told me that if I'm questioning my faith and feeling anxious or doubtful, I am not following God. I understand why you would think that but if only in my case alone, I know that isn't the truth.

Truth and fear can co-exist. 

Because quite honestly, either way I go, there are fears. Either path I choose, there will be feelings of anxiety.

I am finding myself and today, that sounds heavy and way too hard.
It surely doesn't sound fun.
It most assuredly isn't something I picked.
But it is something I am doing for me.

I got another year older last week and I have a good feeling about this year. I have a feeling that I am capable of enduring the dark days and basking in the glow of the sunny days.

It isn't a bad life---just a bad day.
And today, that is ok with me. I am grateful for days like today because they remind me that I am a warrior. I am a woman who loves deeply and aches deeply. I am a fighter who is capable of seeing the good even on the worst of days.

I can do hard things---and I will.

Another Storm

I've endured many storms in my life. Some are big and some are small. Some are ingrained in my memory and others are forgotten.

I can remember quite well the summer I was 10. That was probably the summer I spent the most time having sleepovers with my cousins. There were 3 girl cousins my age growing up. One who lived in California and two that lived here---including a step-cousin I had met when I was 8. We spent a ton of time together that summer. My California cousin came for a visit and I can remember one night in particular during monsoon season, a storm had come into town and our power had gone out.
My cousins and I all huddled around a battery-operated night light that was my baby brother's at the time. My dad had gone outside to check the power and I was so scared. I was scared he would never come back or that our house would catch on fire or flood.

But I had my band. I had my team. My cousins kept me brave that night. I watched the shadows dance off the walls as the thunder cracked louder and louder but I knew I would be ok because I wasn't alone.

Another storm I will never forget was during my days at ANASAZI. Because I was there from June to July, I ended up enduring monsoons in the middle of nowhere---with a 8x8 tarp for protection. The first time I experienced a monsoon on the trail, I started to cry. I begged and pleaded for them to let me go home. I told them I was afraid of storms when I was in my own bed and that I couldn't possibly endure it out in the desert.
We hiked through most of it but when the sun started to go down, we built personal shelters out of our tarps and were sent to bed. This was the very first time I remember feeling completely alone during a monsoon. I sobbed under my tarp and pulled my journal out, aware that the lack of light would prove difficult. But I didn't care. I knew I needed to write. I knew writing would help.
I scribbled out most of my fears almost illegibly but the rain was still pouring and I didn't feel much better.

So I started to pray. I prayed out loud. I pleaded with God to stop the storm because I was scared. I was afraid of dying or getting hurt. I was afraid of the loneliness.

I ended my prayer and laid there for a minute, wishing that God was actually real so that He could answer my prayer.

And just like that, the rain stopped.
I could hardly believe it. I had never received an answer to prayer so bluntly before.
I pulled my journal back out and began to scribble the events of the night. I wrote, "Tonight while it was raining, I said a prayer and asked God to stop the rain because I couldn't take it anymore. And you'll never believe it! THE RAIN STOPPED! There is a God. I know He is there. I know He heard me. I felt Him tonight."

It was during ANASAZI that my testimony of prayer began to grow. I was so afraid of death and I felt like we faced so many dangerous obstacles but each time, we were lead to safety.

The storms I have faced have taught me so much about who I am and who I want to be. Some of them have knocked me off of my feet for a period of time but I've gotten up eventually.

I can see that happening with my current storm. I've been knocked down and I'm not up yet. I'm still figuring this all out and trying to repair the damage. But today something clicked. Today, on another Sunday that we were late for church because I dread sacrament meeting alone with my littles, I was listening in Relief Society about patterns becoming habits and how quickly we can become comfortable and set in our ways and I realized, I don't want to be this. I don't want to struggle to go to church. I don't want my children to get used to this example and think that it's normal that we miss the sacrament 50% of the time, sometimes more.

I may not be where I want to be. I may be struggling with this picture of my life and how it's turned out. I may still question why this has all happened in the particular timing that it has.
I will still struggle to feel like I fit in on Sundays. Some of the lessons will still cause a lot of pain in my heart. I will still feel alone and stressed out most of the time in sacrament meeting.
But it won't be this way forever. 
Because eventually, I'll figure this all out. Eventually I'll be standing taller than I've ever stood. I will face this storm and beat it.

Because I know I am capable of greatness. I know I am strong enough to endure the hard days and enjoy the good days.

Although I don't understand it all, someday I will. Someday I will be able to look back and think, "Wow. I made it through another storm."

ANASAZI Lessons

 Raising children is hard.
Going to school is hard.
Working is hard.
Keeping my house clean is hard.

Trying to do all four of them as a single mom is hard.

And lately, I feel like I've been failing in at least 3 of these categories at a time. I've been so overwhelmed. My eyes start to droop around 7pm because I'm just so exhausted. I don't know if I've ever felt this exhausted, not even as a mom of a newborn. But maybe I just forgot what that felt like.

I've had so many nights where I lay in bed and wonder how I'm going to get everything done the next day. How am I going to have time to sweep the floor and fold some laundry and do two homework assignments and give my kids quality time with their mom?

And the thing is, I don't have time for it all. That would explain the sticky floors, the sink full of dishes, and the laundry that's been sitting in the washer for a few days. It would also explain the amount of tv my kids have watched in the past week.

I've felt like a failure so many times in the past week and most nights, I'm so close to tears when I think about the times I told Petey she had to pack her own school lunch or get her and her brother breakfast because I just couldn't do it.

But we've pushed through. When I feel like I can't keep doing this, I keep doing it anyway. I just focus on one small step at a time.

Today as I was thinking about one of my favorite motto's, "I can do hard things", my mind went back to 17 year old me.

 This is her. Her name is Kissing Sun Firefly and she spent six weeks of her summer learning how to make fire out of wood and a piece of rope, cooking with a tin can and dried foods, hiking 20+ miles a week with everything she had on her back, and sleeping under the stars every night.

Out there, I learned what it means to do hard things. There were so many nights I would cry myself to sleep because I was so lonely out there. I often felt misunderstood by my parents and even by my group of youngwalkers and trailwalkers. That first week was physically exhausting and I got so dehydrated that I was vomiting uncontrollably during one of my first big hikes.

I remember feeling like I would die out there. I remember being so embarrassed that I had gotten dehydrated and I wondered how I would ever make it. But I kept focusing on one more step and then one more and one more until finally, I had made it to our week's destination. I remember the tall grass, the ants all over the dirt, and the girl with the curliest blonde hair I'd ever seen reading her Book of Mormon to me to calm me down. I layed there under the sun, wondering how I had gotten from point A to point B without dying.

I felt like I had accomplished something so incredible that day.

A few weeks later, we were hiking through a dried up river bed and I had my hands through my sleeping bag/backpack and all of a sudden, I tripped and my hands weren't able to catch my fall. But my face did. I could feel my lip swelling as the blood ran down my chin. I couldn't do this anymore! Hiking was too hard. I couldn't handle being out in the middle of nowhere and getting hurt. But I kept going that day. I cried a lot because my battle wound really hurt but I kept hiking and we made it to our destination. That afternoon, I walked down to the dried creek bed and sang, "For Good" from Wicked over and over again. I cried. I sang. I listened to the wind. I felt peace. I knew I could finish this hard thing. I knew I could work things out with my parents and believe in myself.

I knew I could do hard things.

ANASAZI taught me lessons I still apply in my life. It was a turning point in my life. I was strong before ANASAZI but when I came back from those six weeks, smelling worse than death but feeling happier than I had in a long time, I was a warrior.

And I'm still a warrior.

I have felt so much failure recently that I have to take a step back and look at the big picture. Sometimes the small picture doesn't show me what I've accomplished because it emphasizes all of the things I'm doing wrong.

But the big picture---the big picture shows me how far I've come and how much I am capable of enduring.

So tonight, I'm not going to focus on my messy house or my children that went to bed in their school clothes. I'm going to focus on the fact that I worked five hours and came home and did homework with my daughter while babysitting two extras, and then I took 3 online quizzes and got all A's and wrote an essay.

And now I'm here and it's ok that I'm still not choosing to clean. I've done enough for today.

I can't do it all but I can do enough.

My Goodness

I feel like Suzanne today.

Even among the depression and the heartache and the painful memories, there are days where I feel like me. The real me.

The girl who loves to make others happy and doesn't tell herself she is selfish. The girl who reads books to her children and gives them extra snuggles at night. The girl who exercises because she loves her body, not to punish herself.

This is me.

School started yesterday.

School started and my anxiety kicked in full swing. Ok, fine, the anxiety kicked in the night before.

I went to my math class and was welcomed by a bubbly, tiny young woman who made us decide what shape we identified with most and then showed us a Ted talk on having grit. I really hope her personality, as cheesy as class felt, will be helpful to get me through this math class. Have I mentioned I hate Alegbra?

Then I headed to the class I was nervous to start---Philosophy of Sexuality. I know it's going to help me become a better therapist. I know I need to take this class. I am just not excited about the sometimes explicit material and the open discussions about SEX. Part of the reason is because it's intimidating to talk about sex with people I don't know and trust but a bigger part of the reason is in regards to the trauma from my failed marriage.

But I did it. I focused, I read through the required material today, and I finished my first assignment. And if you're waiting for me to stop tooting my own horn, it might not happen yet.

I have spent my morning doing things Suzanne does. Spidey and I jogged the neighborhood at 7:15am. We played with our bunnies and fed them breakfast. And I finished my work out while my boy watched PBS.

I even cleaned the family room.

I'm figuring life out. I hate it some days. I love it other days. But at least I seem to be figuring it out.

There are two parts of me and today I am Suzanne.

TODAY I AM SUZANNE.

That is such a victory, friends.

Because depression and anxiety have taken so much from me. When I feel like me, I NEED TO CELEBRATE THAT!

So today I celebrate who I am. I celebrate the brave things I conquer and the good things that I do. There is good within me---a lot of good. And it doesn't counteract the bad, it isn't a replacement for the bad...it is it's own thing. I am good because I am compassionate and funny and loving.

I am a good person.

This is me.

The Nastiest of Nasty

Divorce can bring out the nastiest of nasty in people. I've seen it happen many times. Not only are there two people trying to navigate through this scary hell, families are forced to figure out their role in the divorce and often times, ugly things are said about people who used to love each other.

This isn't me just talking about my divorce in particular. It's everywhere. It happens often. You can be the loveliest person, inside and out, and you still find things said about you because you have been involved in a divorce. 

Often times, when I write about divorce or the things caused by our divorce, you'll see this after my post on Facebook or Twitter: #divorcesucks. And that hashtag is truer than true. Navigating through this new life while trying to figure out my role as an ex-wife seriously sucks a lot of the time. Missing out on time with my kids seriously sucks. Having the kids by myself without a spouse helping me along the way seriously sucks. Arguing with my ex-husband because we aren't understanding each other seriously sucks. Need I go on?

It isn't that marriage was better because most of the time, it wasn't. The sucky part is that marriage could've been better than divorce. It was possible. It wasn't this unreachable thing because "we weren't meant to be together". I don't really believe in that phrase. Two people can make a marriage work if they are both willing. The trick is that they both have to be willing. 

Navigating single life just seems like a mess most of the time because I've got all of this baggage that constantly parades through my mind and I don't know where to put it. Do I talk about it? Get over it? Pretend it never existed? The thing is, the answer is different for everyone. My stage of divorce grief is different than yours. It never looks exactly the same.

A lot of relief came after the initial shock of divorce. Months into it, I felt free and my home felt peaceful again. The kids and I were closer and life felt better. But demons were present in my fragile mind and those moments where I believed I was my strongest ended up being some of my weakest moments to date. I thought peace meant control but peace is about giving that control to God and trusting Him. The road I travelled down after separation/divorce was full of messes but I lived through it all and I learned from it all. It wasn't about being strong...it was about learning that it's ok to be weak. I've always had a hard time showing weakness, true weakness, because I felt like if people knew my weaknesses, they would see me as a failure. But I am not a failure. I may fail sometimes but I am not a failure.

This week I did something new and if you know me, you know that isn't always easy. I'm the girl who orders the same thing at a particular restaurant because I do what I know. Trying new things isn't my forte. But I took a twelve hour road trip by myself in the car. By myself. Not even with children.

For me, this was one of those "I can do hard things" moments because everyone was worried about me but I believed in myself. I knew my wings were ready for a new flight, an adventure I had only tried as a married woman with my husband in the drivers seat. I curved through hills, navigated my own directions, went through books on tape and new cd's, never stopped to eat, and made it to South Weber, UT with a smile on my face because I had conquered something I was afraid to do on my own.

Because although I act tough and strong and awesome most of the time, I'm usually afraid and feeling weak and stupid on the inside. My internal dialogue is full of "I can't's" and I have to shut them up with a few strong "I can do this's". I've always been ok to be the passenger wife because I felt like my husband could take care if everything. He could fix the sink, keep the fruit trees alive, and gosh darn it, he could take us safely on road trips. But I've learned in the past ten months that I am capable of doing everything he has done for our family. I am strong enough to be on my own. 

{And when I'm not strong enough, I call my dad.}

I'm now the girl who made it past Lake Powell and all the way to Utah. I am the girl who took apart the sink disposal because it was clogged and put it all back together effectively. I am the girl who remembers to water the fruit trees and mow the backyard. 

The fighting isn't going to end tomorrow. Our families are going to side with us, as they should, and once in a while, rude comments will slip out because of their protective nature over each of us. We are divorced. We are just kids ourselves. We are navigating horribly and wonderfully, depending on the day. We aren't perfect and often times, we will drive each other frickin nuts. 

But hopefully we continue to remember the importance of an "I'm sorry" and a humble heart because I believe that is what gets us through the nastiest of the nasty.

Everybody is a Somebody

Everybody is a somebody. Everybody.

I've been lucky enough in my life to be taught these truths through some really hard trials.

I've learned these truths through my marriage to a man with an addiction. I've learned these truths through my own eating disorder addiction. I've learned these truths from some pretty bad decisions I've made and some pretty bad decisions others have made that have affected my life.

And here I am, a genuinely good person; an imperfect, often obnoxious person who struggles with her own addictions and although I could sit here and feel sorry for myself that life is hard and lonely and scary sometimes, that just seems like a waste of what I'm going through.

Either way, I'm going to go through this crap. I don't have a choice in that matter. People have made decisions, promises have been broken, lives have been altered---and all I have left is my choice of how to deal with this.

So I'm choosing to learn.

I'm choosing to learn that addictions don't make you a bad person. I've known some pretty wonderful people do some pretty horrible things. They aren't bad people. They made bad choices. Addiction is a subject that has taught me empathy and patience---well, mostly empathy. I have learned that it is possible to look past someone's actions and try and see their heart. I absolutely, positively hate addiction---but I don't hate the addict. Huge difference, friends.

I'm choosing to learn that I can truly open my heart to love everyone around me. I don't need to agree with them. Our world is full of so much controversy. We see things on the news or in articles about the choices people are making and we have the choice to judge them or love them. But everybody is a somebody and they deserve the opportunity to voice what their heart feels.
I've been having a hard time seeing all of this Ordain Women stuff in the media because the arguments on both sides have gotten pretty tense. I see people bashing characters of people they have never met. I see horrible words being thrown out into the internet world to describe people who have never seen each other face to face. It was really getting me down that people would feel the need to talk so horribly about each other like that and so I posted this on Facebook:

You guys, we NEED each other. We need to have kindness and positive influences around us. We need to feel love and give love. We need to support and be supported.
So if we spend our time tearing people down, we have wasted time we could use lifting someone up. #loveoverpowers #weareallequal #everyonedeserveslove #randomthoughtsonasunday

I believe every word I said on that Facebook post. We really do need more love and less negativity. We need to give people the benefit of the doubt before jumping to the worst conclusions.

I no longer believe there are bad people---only people that make bad choices. We all have good within us. And most of the people we are bashing are making decisions they believe to be the best decisions possible for themselves.

Addiction has taught me to look beyond a person's actions and try and see them as children of God because that is truly who they are. Although addiction has caused some of the most painful trials I have ever experienced in my life, I am the Suzanne that I am because of the experiences that I've had and today, I wouldn't change that. {But don't ask me on a low day. On a low day, I tell addiction to go to hell and I wish none of this had ever happened...}

I am nowhere near perfect and I'm not over here claiming to be. I just know how much happier I feel when I'm trying my damndest to love the people around me---and even the people thousands of miles away from me.

This world needs more love.

The Togetherness Project

A month or so after my husband moved out, one of my friends from high school messaged me on Facebook with some supportive words and a link to a blog post that she thought might help me.

Pioneer Woman was a post that changed my perspective and helped me feel like there could be support in the decisions I was making. I was feeling backed into a corner and I wasn't sure whether to fight or flight.

I felt an instant connection to the words on Jacy's blog and I spent some time reading posts upon posts upon posts to learn more about this Brave Warrior Woman who I had never met.

Gathering from her blog posts, I assumed Jacy lived in Utah so when I emailed her to tell her how much her blog had helped me in my journey, I was surprised when she emailed back to tell me she lived literally 20 minutes away from me. What?!?

I kept on reading Jacy's blog and she would sometimes refer to The Togetherness Project and I was a bit intrigued by what seemed like a community of women who had been in similiar situations as myself. But I was nervous. Oh so nervous. I knew NO ONE besides my friend and at the time, I wasn't sure if she was going to attend the conference.

But through Jacy's blog, I came across an incredible post written by Tc and from there, I reached out to her and met her in person...kind of by force. :)

What I'm trying to say from all of this blog tagging and name dropping (because in my world, these people are famous) is that I feel like my connection to The Togetherness Project was a bunch of tiny little pieces that created a completed puzzle.

So I finally signed up. I did it. It was a step of bravery for me and this is my year of BRAVE so I did it.

Weeks upon weeks before TTP (The Togetherness Project) and I started to look forward to this band of amazing women who were very supportive of me. Countdown had begun. I had hope that I would find new friendships and a healthy amount of support and also that I would be able to support other women and love them.

My vision of TTP was almost spot on. Support, love, friendships---it was all there.

Mark Bell started the day off with a bang, teaching us about empathy vs. sympathy. "Sympathy drives disconnection. Empathy is feeling with people. When does an emphatic sentence start with, "At least."?" I connected to this message because having gone through a few crappy things in my life (infertility, divorce, etc.), I've heard a lot of these messages. At least you have two kids. At least your husband didn't die. At least you get breaks from your kids every other weekend. For the most part, I could understand that when people would say these "At least's", they were trying to help me feel better but once in a while, those sentences just plain hurt. The phrase "at least" seems to minimize the pain I'm feeling because at least I don't have it worse.

The other message I wanted to touch on was a class taught by Marilyn Tenney. If you've known me a long time, you might know her as well. Marilyn was a youth leader in my church growing up. I was so excited to attend her class just to see her and her class ended up being my favorite! I really related to the things she spoke about regarding "Codependency as a Trauma Response". I have had a hard time in my outside world (my world outside of TTP and the women who get this trauma) explaining how traumatic this has been for me. I feel like I get a lot of weird looks when I refer to my divorce as betrayal trauma because it's not like he did anything to me. I wasn't abused.Abuse is outwardly traumatic and everyone agrees but it's hard to recognize trauma that is all emotional. There is no proof and it's harder to understand. I felt shame for even feeling like I had suffered trauma because I felt like maybe I'm just overreacting. One of the first things Marilyn taught was, "If it affects how I see my world, that's trauma." Then she went on to explain that I need to, "Identify the truths and lies of my shame." Why am I feeling this shame? What are deep-rooted feelings behind all of this?

I could go on and on about codependency and what I have learned from those feelings. I had a late night/early morning talk with a great friend (you know, the night before the conference when we pulled an ALL NIGHTER) about how I hate myself when I start feeling codependent. I can hardly stand it! When I start feeling lonely, I get angry at myself because I WANT TO BE INDEPENDENT!
My friend taught me that there is a difference between being codependent and lonely. They are not the same thing. When I'm lonely, it isn't because I'm weak, it is because we, as human beings, want to feel connection with other people.

Honestly, I'd pull an all nighter all over again, despite the effects on my body from 2 days post-all-night, to learn what I learned that night---and that was BEFORE the conference had even started!

There were so many other amazing speakers and classes that I attended. I learned so much about myself, about my situation, and about the strength I CAN have in any situation!

Not only can we do hard things, we can do AMAZING things! As human beings, we have the power in any situation to come out on top.

Together, we can rise above.

Happy Sad Angry Unfair Grateful

I wanted to make myself get right back on here after that last post and shout from the roof tops how grateful I am for life! I hated leaving things on such a negative note. I always hate doing that. But it was real and I'm trying to just accept that and move on from it.

Moving on means trying to be a better person, a happier person. I succeeded on Monday. Monday was a better day and I knew God had given me that because of my feelings from Sunday. But things go up and down around here. I'm not always happy and I'm not always sad. Some days that are hard still have incredibly happy moments mixed in. It isn't all bad.

I promise.

The memories are still hard. I'm still trying to work through this new phase of hard. It feels different than the others because it isn't just something I can stop or erase. Memories are there forever and blocking them out will do me no good. Trust me, I've successfully done that before and it didn't help.

I keep wondering if we were really happy, if I was really happy. What did that feel like? What changed it? When did it change? Is there something I could've done?

I look at pictures to remind me that I was happy. It wasn't an act. This was real. I was living my dream life, being home with my kids {despite the many opinions of others before and after this big life change}. And the thing is, I still am living that dream life. I didn't have to pick up and go back to work full time. I got lucky that I'm able to be in school full time---even though, at the moment, it doesn't feel lucky because school is hard and a lot of tears have been shed today over that stress. But that is another subject that I hope we never talk about because there would be a lot of whining and feeling sorry for myself.

And the kids were happy. That is another thing I have a hard time fathoming. I have a hard time remembering those days before the added anger and sadness. I have a hard time remembering the differences from before, when life seemed a lot more secure for them. Everyone says that maybe they are just in phases because of their ages and that could be partly true but as their mama bear, I know things have changed in them. I see it. It breaks my heart and I want to take it away.

Petey will often complain about how life isn't fair anymore and you know what? She's right! Life isn't fair for her. It isn't fair to have to choose between your mom and your dad. It isn't fair that most of the time, she only has one of us available to her. It isn't fair that she has to go to bed at night with kisses from one parent and never both. It isn't fair that she had no say in this. There wasn't any way for her to put up a fight or ask us to reconsider and she just doesn't fully understand.

Someday it might make sense to her but today, it isn't fair.

The funniest---or not so funny---part of my last post and the outreaching I received afterward is that I feel that way a lot of the time. There are a lot of hard days and hard nights but I don't like talking about them all of the time. If I'm completely overwhelmed, I talk about the really hard stuff but when I'm in between, I will often shy away from talking because I want to feel normal. Almost all of my friends are married mothers who have husbands that come home at night and I want to feel like I fit in, like I'm not some center of attention because my life is so sad.

I don't think my life is so sad, by the way. I truly don't. The hard will get easier. I believe that 100%. A divorce isn't the worst thing that could've happened to our family. Life changing as it may be, it isn't an end all.

So today, I'm alive and I'm grateful for so many things. On the days or nights that I can't seem to find that gratitude, I will rely on my Heavenly Father to buoy me up and keep me going. I know He loves me. I can tell you that as sure as the sun will rise tomorrow, God loves all of us and knows what we need. We are never alone. Ever.

Victimhood is a Choice

 Many years ago, when a horrible shooting happened at an Amish school, I remember my mom printing off a quote from one of the parents whose child had died in the shooting that had made her think.

"Victimhood is a choice."

I remember walking past that quote many times in her laundry room and wondering if that meant something to me personally. I knew I could be the victim of my childhood and how hard life was. Or maybe I could be the victim of an eating disorder. How about a victim of depression? What was I choosing to be a victim of? Anything? Nothing?

Then one sunny day in August, actually August 17th to be exact, I was walking in to Liberty Market with my sister to pick up her birthday food when I got a call that changed my life. I had Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. I struggled with secondary infertility for 2.5 years and the only reason I no longer "struggle" with it is because I'm single. That day in August, I slipped down into a deep pit. I felt like NOBODY understood. I felt like everyone would judge me for being sad since I already had 2 kids so I was sad alone. The first few months, we were in it together {we being my husband and I}. Then we went through a period where one of us was still heartbroken and the other one wasn't as sympathetic and understanding. It was hard. I chose to be a victim to infertility for a long time. I didn't function as well as I should've in groups of people. I got angry when people would announce pregnancies. I was playing the part of victim extremely well.

But I wasn't very happy.

You see, choosing to be the victim becomes overwhelming. It runs your life. It makes you bitter.
At the time, I was praying daily and nightly but not for peace---I was praying for a baby.  So the bitterness came easier and easier every month when I would find myself NOT pregnant.

So one day, I made a choice. I started praying for God's will. I prayed for peace. And I lived my life, actually in my life.
I believe that is one of the hardest things about becoming a victim. It's really hard to see past your fears and doubts when you focus on being a victim.
But it's a lot easier to be the victim. It's easier to feel like you can blame your mistakes, your attitude, and your choices on something or someone else. Being the victim creates a way for you to do this.

When my husband left me, a huge part of me was thinking, "Welcome back, victim card!" because I had an easy way to blame life on someone else. I was crushed and depressed and my heart was breaking---but at least this was his fault, not mine. I had confidence at first. I was ready to date and put myself out there because I knew I was a good person. I had faith in myself.

But I was numb and wasn't dealing with my feelings. All of that faith had been an act because I was scared as all heck on the inside. I was playing the "poor me" card and hoping someone would find me broken and pick up the pieces. I was doing things the exact opposite of my infertility experience because on a cold day in January, I decided I had never been good enough. I decided not only was this all my fault, I wasn't worthy of love. I went from one extreme to the next, both of them involving me playing a victim.

Some days, I'm still the victim. Some days, I feel sorry for myself. But most days, I live in the moment and am grateful for life today.

Life today doesn't involve a husband. Life today doesn't involve pregnancy {and thank goodness for that!}. But life today involves happiness. Those things don't go hand in hand.

Although I play a victim every once in a while, I am not a victim because victimhood is a choice. I choose not to be a product of divorce or infertility. I choose to focus on the good things God has given me. I have the opportunity every day to make choices that involve me being happy or sad or angry. Most of the time, I choose happiness. Sometimes, especially at night, I have a hard time choosing the happy and the anger or sadness sets in and overwhelms me but it's ok! It's ok to grieve the life I once had as long as I pick myself up and try to find happiness again the next day.

Happiness is found everywhere around me. I just have to choose whether I'm going to seek it out.

Why Divorce Hasn't Changed My Views on Marriage

 Thoughts of this post have been stewing in my head for months but I knew I wanted some time to really think about how to explain myself and also, how to help others going through something similiar.

When I woke up today, it seemed like the right day to start writing this.

As a little girl, I wanted life to be a fairytale. I dreamed of that man who would sweep me off my feet and who would always be there to love and care for me. 
I just knew that someday, I would be married in the temple and life would give me that stability I had always craved. I had such a firm belief in marriage and hoped that decision would get to be a part of my life someday.
We grow up watching fairytales and wishing those same things for our life but what we aren't always taught is the good is usually intertwined with some very hard. I use the word hard as a noun here because it doesn't have one simple meaning. Hard can mean debt or loss of trust or infidelity or little arguments or death or loss of motivation or impatience, among many, many other things. No one gets to have a perfect marriage because no one is perfect. Marriage isn't always fun and it takes work, a lot of work, to figure life out together but marriage is worth it.
And why do I believe marriage is worth it?
Marriage, when both parties are committed, is beautiful. It goes beyond a serious relationship because you have vowed to stick it out, through thick and thin. Marriage is loving someone at their best and continuing to love them at their worst. Marriage is trust, a whole lot of trust. It is teachable, humbling, and can be so much fun! Most importantly, I believe marriage is ordained of God. It is a sacred bond between two people who love and respect one another. I believe God is not only forgiving, He understands when marriages fall apart. He understands why and He knows that because of certain situations, it's ok to let go. But out of all the failed marriages, that isn't the case for even half of them. God wants us to give our heart to our spouse but to also love them enough to give them our time, our respect, and our trust. It's really hard work and some days, it seems like it would be easier to be single and have more freedom but I have been in a marriage where I wanted to succeed and I have been in a marriage where I wanted to give up {If you're confused, I'm referring to the same marriage since I've only been married once}, and I will say that when two people are working hard together, marriage a beautiful experience, far outweighing the pro's of being single.
As a wife who had just celebrated her one year anniversary, I was listening to some crap radio on the way to work when they were talking about infidelity and how it is very normal to cheat on your spouse around year 7. They justified infidelity on so many levels and I was floored. I knew I couldn't just sit there and listen to a discussion on such a sacred subject without adding my own thoughts. Something inside of me told me to call the radio station and I did. I was put on the air and started explaining what I believed and why I believed it. I was in the middle of saying something when the radio host asked how long I had been married. I gave them the honest answer and they started laughing. And not only did they laugh, they remained talking about me for at least a few minutes before I turned off the station, red with embarrassment.
I had only been married a year. I had no idea what that 7 year itch was like! I had no credibility.
That day, I was saddened by the loss of faith in marriage these days. I couldn't believe that some people thought marriage wasn't all that important and that committing to someone forever was truly unrealistic.
I knew my life would be different. We would get past whatever 7 year itch they were referring to because we were strong and committed.

And then one day, about 6.5 years into our marriage, one half of our marriage decided he wanted out and let me tell you, one of the first things that flashed through my mind was that radio conversation from 6 years ago. I was angry. Actually, angry is an understatement. I couldn't believe this was going to be my life. I tried to place blame everywhere, including on myself---and I still do at times.
We had become part of that norm. Our marriage that was supposed to last forever was dissolved in a matter of days. I knew when he moved out that he wouldn't be coming back, not because him or I had made any decisions but because I had prayed for days about it.
I tried to accept it. I tried to understand that I was now part of a social norm when I didn't want to be. It was my fairytale's nightmare.

But three days after it happened, three days after sinking so low and not wanting to leave my house and crying until there were no tears left, I picked myself up and decided this wasn't some norm. This wasn't the end of my fairytale. I had decisions in this!

So I decided not to lose my faith in marriage. I decided to trust that it would be possible to be with someone for eternity.
Although it is going to take a lot to trust and a lot of work, I have faith in marriage.

 I know marriage is hard. I know it is work. And I know it is scary.

But so is letting my children leave my sight and going to school full time and planning on being brave enough to own my own practice someday.

Life is scary because we don't get to decide what choices everyone else makes. We don't get to control the world and decide who stays in our lives and who leaves.

But we do get to decide how we handle life. We get to decide what attitude we have with the situations we are given. We get to decide if we are going to take the left path or the right path.

Yes, marriage takes two people but we really only get to decide if we are all in. We can't force anyone else. We can't make them stay or make them appreciate us. All we can do is try to show them we want them to stay and show them we appreciate them. How we treat others is 100% our choice and it is imperative that we take that choice seriously. We affect others on a daily basis.

Marriage taught me so much more than I ever could have imagined. As a young 19 year old girl, I was blissfully in love and felt like the heartache from my growing up years was over. But marriage taught me to look outside myself and live for someone else. Marriage taught me things I never planned on learning.
And divorce has taught me even more.
I think what I'm realizing is that it isn't about whether you've survived a divorce. are happily in a marriage, have gone through the death of a loved one, or are living another story, every day is teachable. Every experience I go through, good and bad, has it's moments where I can choose to learn or ignore.

My marriage didn't ruin me and my divorce won't ruin me. It may take more work than I wanted to get back to where I was but nothing gets to ruin me without my say!

That pain and heartache will someday be a thing of the past and I'll look back and see how much I've grown. I'm so grateful for an eternal perspective on life. I'm grateful to know that God loves me and never abandons me. I feel Him. I know He is there when I need Him most.

I believe in marriage. I believe marriage can work. I believe any two individuals working together will make a marriage work.

Loving Myself: Protecting Myself

 The thought of protecting myself has seemed so foreign since it was introduced to me weeks ago. When I say this, I'm not talking about a physical protection, although I could definitely work on that too. What I'm talking about is an emotional and spiritual protection.

I was once a little girl with so many dreams; dreams of becoming a famous actor or singer or dancer, dreams of making a huge impact on the world, dreams of volunteering in third world countries and saving lives, even dreams of becoming a surgeon and saving lives daily. As a child, this all seemed realistic and I imagined my life would be full of bliss and free of challenges---but then really, who ever imagines their life full of challenges when they are little?

As a little girl, I was often obnoxious, rude, and I felt like everyone's biggest problem. I always seemed to be in the way. I was sandwiched between amazingly, talented older sisters and two younger special needs siblings. I often believed I was bad because I craved attention all of the time. It was hard to feel stuck because when I didn't get attention, I was lonely but when I got attention, it was often in the form of someone telling me I was trying to get too much attention.

First issue: I felt like an attention-seeker.

 I look at pictures of that little girl and it makes me sad that I can't be the one to go back in time and protect her from her pain. I know my parents knew I "had issues" but no one really knew why or what to do about any of it. Not even me. I was taken to therapists but that only validated my feelings of being a bad kid because 'good kids don't see therapists'. Because I'm a member of a 6 kid family {and I wouldn't trade that for anything...well, maybe 200 million dollars...wait, no...I wouldn't trade it for anything! =)}, I know that getting my parents' attention full time wasn't feasible nor should it have been. But I do know that I needed someone, something to make me feel like I belonged.

I know that now, I didn't know it then.

I grew up so self-conscious about my personality that I overexagerrated often. I told people I prided myself in being different. I didn't want to be like them. I wanted to be over-the-top all of the time. And a part of that is true. I really, truly loved being me. 'Me' was such a special term because I liked who I was.

 But that didn't last forever. It became a hit and miss feeling. Sometimes I loved everything about myself and other times, I couldn't find one single thing to love. I stuffed a lot of pain deep down inside of myself because I didn't want to seem sad and quite frankly, I didn't want to be sad.

I used to think I was this open book, this person that overly-spilled her feelings but looking back and looking forward, my current therapist would laugh from that assumption. It's hard for me to open up about the real stuff. It's hard for me to get emotional because I'm so darn afraid of getting hurt or being judged or even just judging myself for seeming weak.

So many of those feelings seemed left behind when I graduated and was quickly married to that awesome guy who gave me two gorgeous children. I think marriage validated that I was worth something, that someone believed I was worth something. Marriage validated that I had someone who would always be rooting for me, who would always believe in me.

So you can imagine where this is going.

Divorce changed all of that.

 Feelings have resurfaced left and right, dating all the way to early childhood years. At first, I didn't understand this and I didn't want to face it. I absolutely adore my parents and have this fear that by talking about the hard in my childhood, things will resurface in all of us that will take things back to the way they were. Or maybe they'll think I'm ungrateful for the many good experiences I had. Or maybe everyone will perceive me as this giant attention-seeker because quite honestly, that's how I perceive myself.

When I serve others, I'm often double and triple checking to make sure I'm not serving "for the wrong reasons". And if I can successfully label any part of my service as attention-seeking behavior, I feel guilty and I tell myself I'm really, truly, an innately selfish being.

When I'm going through trials, there is a point where I have always believed everything should be better and I should no longer be hurting or bringing attention to myself because that is just overreacting and attention-seeking. My worry of not wanting to be an attention-seeker makes it so that I often lie about the way I'm feeling. And if I do tell the truth, my goodness I'm afraid I'll lose those people I trust so much in my life.

Because even people you trust can leave you.

So here we are. Today. I'm trying to grasp my head around the fact that I need to protect myself from myself. I need to be the type of person I can trust. The bully in my life is me and that is hard to realize.

I like to label a certain reaction of mine as the "spiral effect". In my life, this is the effect that happens when I see an imperfection in myself so I start beating myself down. I'm an emotional bully but only when it comes to me. I often perceive myself as this being that creates drama and annoys people around her. When people thank me for something good I've done, my mind says, "You did that good thing but...*insert some other excuse as to why I'm NOT good here*."

So my goal is to protect that little girl inside of me that always wanted love and sometimes needed extra attention. Instead of hating her and making things worse, I want to love her and encourage her to blossom.

Sounds easy, right?

No, not really. Not even a little bit.

But remember...I can do hard things.

Who Am I?

 I attended the sealing of one of my favorite friends and her husband on Friday and it was absolutely beautiful.
A question that I pondered that night and have been thinking about ever since then is, "Who am I?"
Yes, I'm Suzanne and I'm a mother and a student and a divorcee and a daughter and I'm wild and crazy and sarcastic but who am I?

I'm a princess. I'm a daughter of God. I'm learning how to be a queen.

It's so easy to write those things down or to say them when someone asks but do I really believe that? Do I treat myself like a daughter of God?

No. I don't. I'm trying to be completely honest here. I don't live my daily life as a queen, as the mother of God's prince and princess. I count all of my flaws and multiple them by one thousand and at the end of the day, I feel defeated. I feel like there is nothing I can give to these two special beings I've been entrusted to raise. I feel like there is nothing I can do to make myself believe I am good enough or smart enough or pretty enough.

I hardly ever give myself credit for the good things I do. I look at the good and compare it to my flaws and wonder if I'll ever measure up. But the truth is, my flaws don't negate my good choices. They don't even out the playing field. They are separate. God loves me when I fail and He is proud of me when I succeed.

God knows I'm trying. He sees it. And that is something I wholeheartedly believe. I believe He loves me and sees me as a princess. I believe He gets sad when I look in the mirror and tear myself down. I believe He is overjoyed when I help others or believe in myself.

A goal I've set for myself is to try and see myself as God sees me. I pray specifically for that every day and night. I try and keep that goal in my mind so that when I lose my temper or break myself down in a mirror or think mean thoughts about people, I know I can change and I know He still loves me.

 It's amazing what prayer can do. I know I've mentioned my struggle with self worth lately. I knew this was bound to happen because of everything going on but I also worried about how I would deal with it.
At first, it wasn't good. I not only started to think I was worthless, I started to think hateful thoughts about myself. I started to wonder why I was my childrens' mother because someone out there could probably do a better job. I started to wonder if anyone would ever love me again or if the love people have for me is real. I started to convince myself people are probably only my friends because they pity me, not because I'm nice or fun or a good friend.
But gradually, it's getting better. It's still a struggle. I still find Satan tip-toeing up next to me and whispering things in my ear that I choose to believe. I still find myself struggling to wonder if I'm really all that loveable. I still struggle to see myself as a great mother.

But I don't hate myself today. I see a glimpse of my worth today. I feel like I was meant to be their mother today.

I'm having a hard time seeing myself through His eyes but I have faith and I pray.

It's possible, my friends. If I didn't believe it was possible, I wouldn't be trying to achieve it.

I am a child of God and He has sent me here
Has given me an earthly home with parents kind and dear
Lead me, guide me, walk beside me
Help me find the way
Teach me all that I must do
To live with him someday.

You Just Never Know

If you've been awaiting the end of the 30-day challenge, you can stop waiting now; not because I'm finishing them up but because I'm done with them. I'm ok with getting 20-ish days for the month of January and feeling like that was a success. I didn't anticipate school to take up so much time but I also didn't anticipate life to get harder than last semester.

I thought I was on the downhill slope of healing but apparently, I came to a cliff and I'm going to have to take some time to build a bridge before I can cross and keep going.

It's hard to have a blog where you get to express your feelings but not being able to express every feeling. Does that make sense? There's a fine line between sharing enough to help others and sharing too much. I know I cross that line sometimes but I try not to. I try to help and be honest without being overly sad or descriptive.

Going through a divorce is very lonely. It doesn't matter how many people rally around me, I still get lonely sometimes. There are things only God understands. Nobody has gone through exactly what I'm going through. So it gets lonely and I hate feeling lonely.

I'm doing a lot of growing up. Learning how to live on my own is becoming more of a second nature than it was at first. I'm learning routine and how to take care of the kids for 24 hours a day except for my every other weekend and a weekday night break. It's hard. I often feel this pressure to be better for my kids, to be more for them. I keep thinking they need perfection from me and there's just no way I can live up to that. There are nights we don't do a bedtime routine because I'm so worn out and I always feel so incredibly guilty.

I put these own pressures on myself. I try and control every single little thing in my life that I can because my life feels very out of control. I'm way too hard on myself and have developed a severe case of self doubt and have lost my ability to believe I have a lot of self worth.

I often think of that little girl I used to be and how clueless she was, as we all are, to how her life would turn out. I wish I could warn her so she could get some armor on. It's taken a lot to learn how to prepare myself for trial because you just never know! I've learned that the hard way. You can prepare all you want and expect that certain things in your life are going to be constant but you just never know!

I felt like the hardest part was over but I think it's just beginning.



Why is it so hard to find that natural happiness I can usually find easily?

Lots of questions to ponder on my part.

The thing is, it's going to be ok---I'm going to be ok. This hasn't killed me. It hasn't ruined me forever. I just need to deal with it so eventually, I'm able to move on and be that healthy, happy mom my kids need.

And don't you worry --- I'll get there.

How to Feel Good When You Don't Feel Good

 Well, that was interesting. I had almost an entire blog post up and I deleted the whole thing---on purpose. Let's try this again and see if I approve of today's message.

Do you ever struggle to feel like you are a good person? Are there days you compare your weaknesses to someone else's strengths?

 

I hope I'm not the only one.

 

Some days, I find that I'm just so darn hard on myself. I hear other people tell me I'm so helpful or friendly or inspiring and I don't feel like any of it is true. I feel fake because I struggle on a daily basis to make good decisions and be a better person. I'm not inspiring---I'm barely keeping my head above water right now. Am I being fake because I have a smile on my face even on some of my hardest days? How can I be a good person when I don't always make good decisions?

 

I try to be a genuinely good person. I try really hard to help others and pick them up when they are down. So why do I find myself thinking that isn't good enough? Why do I still feel like I'm not a good person when I am a good person?

 

Are you confused yet? Or have you ever felt this way?

 

I was reading in the scriptures today and 3rd Nephi 24:18 really jumped out to me.

"Then shall ye return and discern between the righteous and the wicked, between him that serveth God and him that serveth him not."

 

What a simple verse of scripture that is. The scripture doesn't say "He that succeeds in doing everything perfectly his entire life is righteous." It plainly states that if we are trying, if we are doing our best, we are righteous.

 

Satan tries so hard to convince us we will never be good enough. He is constantly bombarding society with lies that we need to be perfect to be good people. He wants us to feel like we are failing when we struggle.

 

It's hard sometimes. Actually, it's hard a lot of the time. It's hard to believe the things other people see in me. It's hard not to put myself down and tell myself I should be doing better. But my Heavenly Father loves me unconditionally---with no conditions. He loves me when I'm doing well and He loves me when I struggle. He wants me to succeed but He understands that we are here to learn and sometimes, we make mistakes.

 

My knowledge of His existence is real. I don't just think He is there---I know He is. I'm going to struggle through this divorce and I'm going to succeed. It isn't going to perfect. In fact, at times it will probably be messy but I know He will still love me. I know I am righteous because I desire to do good.

 

My goal this week is to keep Satan out. I will pray often, study my scriptures, and believe in myself.

Push Past the Hard and Find the Good

The truth seems plain. I can do hard things. But sometimes, it just isn't as simple as that sentence.

Yes, I know I can do hard things. I know I am brave and strong and able to take on anything life throws my way. But I'm not always able to do it right away.

Numerous times this week, I've had people call me an inspiration, brave, strong, and positive. I appreciate every single one of those comments, even though they sometimes feel out of place because I don't always feel brave and strong and positive and I especially don't feel like an inspiration. But if my words have inspired you, I am immensely grateful for that.

Part of my purpose of blogging is selfish. I love to write and writing is like therapy for me. But there is another purpose that is near to my heart and that is helping you. If I could help one person through the words on my blog, this is all worth it. Well, either way it's worth it {Remember? Lover of writing?} but helping you is the cherry on top.

When I look in the past, present, and future, it is easy to feel overwhelmed with life because sometimes, life is really hard. It is easy to feel like it will never get better, or ask why did this happen to me? but it is possible to push past the hard and find the good.

So how do we get there? How do we even begin to find the good when we are so overwhelmed with the bad?

I believe it's different for everyone. Everyone handles the good and the bad differently. Everyone feels differently.

For me, it started with service. I've already mentioned how something as simple as taking cookies to a neighbor helped me out of my funk. One thing that helped me through infertility and continues to help me is holding babies. My friends are all having babies right now {That's water I won't be drinking for a long time} and often times, I'd describe it as service when I help them with their babies. Sometimes, it's purely selfish but most of the time, I do it because I know they need it. I remember what it was like to have a 16 month old and a newborn. Wow, talk about doing hard things. It was extremely hard for a while and I had tons of family around to help ease that anxiety for me.

So is that it? Does service make our pain completely disappear? No, it doesn't. Service eased my pain and helped me to grieve in a way that was conducive to my life. It didn't make everything better.

Another thing I'm learning right now is that some grief just takes time. There is no magical button or healing power that takes it away in an hour, a day, or a week. Healing is a process.

Often times, I've been surprised by my reaction to things. When infertility hit, I was a freakin' mess. Seriously. I was a mess for about a year and around the time that I started to figure out my emotions, my marriage was having issues. Ha. So funny, right? Then, I dealt with that and learned how to figure those emotions out. And gosh golly, by the time I figured those emotions out and thought my marriage was fixed, I was left single. And yes, I cried. I still cry. But part of me just wanted to laugh. The twisted sense of humor in me thought this was all really funny. So...what's it gonna be next year, huh? Is this really happening all over again? How do I overcome this?

That last question is so important. A part of me wondered that for a while. How do I overcome this? I'm not strong enough to handle this! But I already knew the truth. I knew I was strong enough. You see, after the infertility and everything else that's happened in my life, I knew I could handle this. I had already done hard things. I could do them again. I certainly didn't want to and I still don't---but I can.

And I will.

Overcoming these obstacles is sometimes an icky, sticky mess because we feel lost or trapped. It's hard to find your way out with the tunnel vision we were all born with. It's hard to see the bigger picture and have faith that you'll get to your final destination someday. It sure is easy to doubt and to fear.

For me, fear is what I struggle with. Fear of inadequacy, fear of failure, fear of being alone forever, etc. These are things I deal with daily. I struggle to picture the end result of school because I don't think I'll ever be smart enough to get into a masters program or be brave enough to start my own practice someday. I fear divorce because I don't want to ruin my childrens' lives. I fear losing my friendships. I fear that one day, they'll all be gone---because I'm crazy---and I will feel even more alone.

Laurel Christensen at Time Out for Women talked a lot about our fears and not letting them run our lives. God wants us to have faith. Satan wants us to have fears. This is sometimes hard for me to decipher because I have so many fears in my life. I try so hard to trust the plan that God has for me but sometimes, I lose it.
Sometimes, it's easier to focus on today and what I want today. Sometimes, my selfish desires make it hard to focus on the future and what is best for my life as a whole. So to put my faith before my fear, I pray a whole lot. I trust a lot. I remember who I am and my divine purpose. These are things I know will help keep me on the path I want to be on. I don't always succeed. Actually, so many times in my life, I've insisted on doing things the hard way and learning from my mistakes. The good is still possible to find but it's a lot harder that way.

When we feel lost or angry, it is easy to feel like we should give up. These are the times we need God the most. Giving up is not the answer. There is always good to be found. I promise, there just is. Fight for that good. It is worth it!

My hope for this week is that you find that good I know is in your life. Find it and focus on it. Remember it. Be thankful for it.
I always feel so much better about my life when I focus on that good God has given me.

It is always there. Sometimes you just have to search harder than other times.