As the second anniversary of my divorce approaches (is anniversary even the right word to use in this case?!), I find myself in a reflective mood, courtesy of three days at home with germs coursing through my body and jumbled thoughts tumbling around in my mind. Earlier today, during a downpour, I found myself outside clearing out the French drain in my driveway to save my garage from a minor flood. I happened to be talking on the phone to my special friend at the time (did I mention I have mad multitasking skills?!), and I remarked that no matter how many times I have cleared out this same drain, I still feel like a bad ass every time I do it. That statement alone is proof positive that it does not take much for me to feel like a bad ass ever since my world imploded several years ago, but perhaps, that is a good thing, or maybe, it isn’t. Either way, I felt like a bad ass, as I watched the water swirl down the unclogged drain and as the water that threatened my garage began to recede.
This feeling like a bad ass also happens every time I cut the lawn, rake the leaves, unclog the toilet in my daughters’ bathroom, and every other task that used to be performed by ex-husband that now are my responsibility. I never set out to be a bad ass, but when my marriage and life fell apart, it was a title that I had to pick up when I reconfigured the remnants of my world. I don’t know what the first two years post-divorce are called, as it is anything but a “honeymoon”, but it is something to behold alright. I take pride when I am able to do things that I never either had to do or thought that I could do, and there are times when it feels incredibly empowering to know that I am on my own. I am bad ass, hear me roar (my apologies to Helen Reddy)!
Then, there are times, like at this very moment, when being bad ass just feels incredibly lonely. While I know that I am capable of taking care of myself and my daughters on my own, I still have moments when I feel like anything but a bad ass and do not want to be one. Here are just some of those moments, and these admissions are sure to have both my bad ass card and my independent single woman card revoked:
- When I read about a rash of break-ins in my neighborhood or hear something that goes bump in the middle of the night.
- When I find myself tempering my words and guarding my heart for fear of being hurt and betrayed again, when all I want to do is to be brave enough to be vulnerable.
- When I see a mouse in the house.
- When I wonder if I can continue to survive financially when my maintenance ends.
- When I doubt my ability to reach my goals, both professional and personal ones.
- When the anxiety and depression re-emerge and make me feel like I am damaged beyond repair.
- When I question whether I ever will be the right woman in the right place at the right time for the right man.
- When I cry.
So, there you have it, the confessions of one reluctant bad ass. It is my hope that when my health is restored that my bad ass title will better suit me once again.
That’s another story . .
Categories: That's Another Story