Today marks the seventh anniversary of my eleven-year marriage ending.  I could tell you the story from two very different perspectives.

I could tell you that this was a crushing, horrible experience.  I was blindsided.  My ex-husband moved us to another province shortly before this all happened which I interpreted as creepy and controlling.  I was isolated as a stay-at-home mom to three young kids with no friends, no job, and no power.  Only days after I was blindsided, I found out my ex-husband slept with another woman.  I could tell you that it was all his fault -- the decision, the marriage, and the aftermath.

I could also tell you that this experience is the best thing that has ever happened.  The day it happened was the day I woke up for the first time.  For the first time in my life, my eyes were fully open to my frigid and numb emotional life: my tendency to avoid myself and others; my tendency to not let others in; my tendency to show up vacant in my marriage.  This experience fuelled a promise to myself that I was going to figure my shit out.  I was going to mature.  I was going to grow into a kickass version of myself, whether my ex-husband wanted to be with me or not.  I hoped he would.  He decided not to.  I stayed true to myself and followed through.

In the first version of the story, I am a powerless and abandoned victim.  In the second version, I am responsible, empowered, and loving myself.  Same story.  Two different perspectives.

Which version makes me feel better?  The second one.  Which story makes me feel more in control?  The second one.  Which story helps me get along better with my ex-husband?  The second one.  Which version helps me feel at peace with the universe?  The second one.  I get to choose which version I focus on.  I choose number two, hands down.

What is your story? Does the current version of it serve you or does it drag you down?  Your story can always be edited and rewritten without any of the facts changing.

Until next time,