I had what seemed like the perfect life. The big house, the marriage, the kids, and the job. On social media and to our neighbors it looked perfect, but we all know what looks perfect is not. Only a select few knew how I really felt and what I was contemplating.
I thought about it getting a divorce for years, but struggled with how the kids would take it and how would I survive on my own. I was not in a bad marriage. My husband was a great guy and a wonderful father. That was the difficult part, there was no main reason why I wanted out. I think sometimes you grow apart and want different things in your life.
I could have stayed, but I would have stayed for all the wrong reasons. So, at the age of 41, I was officially divorced, renting a small home, and starting over again. That was not how I envisioned my early forty’s with three kids. I dreamed of having summer cookouts with all of our friends. I pictured the kids around the fire pit at night making smores and memories. This was not the life I had dreamed about as a little girl.
The Second Blow
But there I was, alone, scared, and scraping every dime together to get back and make everyone think that I was okay. Being alone was actually great for me. I learned how to do everything by myself again. As scary as it was, I felt a sense of accomplishment knowing that I was able to handle it all.
Soon after, I fell madly in love- fast, very fast. It was as if I was living in a dream. I was traveling back and forth in a long-distance relationship and I was so happy. It got to a point when the flight attendants began to know my name because I flew on their flight so often. I was building a new life, with a new family, friends, and a second home. I had never felt that way again and I believed that it was God’s plan for me.
Unfortunately, it was not. There was another blow to what I thought my plan should be. I am not ready to share what happened. I may not ever be ready to tell that story. But there I was 43 years old, cancelling a wedding, heartbroken, devastated, in debt, and wondering what to do. The new life I had created was shattered within moments. Everything was out of my control and I watched it crumble before my eyes.
After that I questioned everything. Why wasn’t anything going according to the plan? What is next? Will I ever be happy? Why did this happen? This was not supposed to happen. But actually, it was.
When we are in the middle of chaos and heartache it’s nearly impossible to see through the fog. I remember people telling me that everything happens for a reason. I would think okay well then what is it? I was waiting. Waiting for something good or magical to come of this horrible circumstance. But nothing did. For months I was going through the motions, trying to look like I was happy and successful. Yet, I was breaking inside. I read dozens of self-help books, I went to therapy, I wrote, I cried. I did what everyone is supposed to do as you work to put yourself back together.
But slowly, very slowly things started to come together. Little opportunities turned into bigger opportunities, my confidence began to come back and I was finally beginning to see the light. It didn’t happen overnight. It took a few years. About two and a half to be exact for me to fully see that everything I had gone through was purposeful. I was meant to go through all of that to get where I am now. If I had not experienced the pain, I would have never built up my self-confidence to pursue my dreams of a network anchor. If I had not become a network anchor I wouldn’t have as much content to put in my book. And the list goes on and on.
I still question things each day, especially lately, but I have learned that things rarely work out according to the plan. Everything happens when it is supposed to be. Whether it’s God or the universe we are exactly where we are supposed to be, even if not where we want. Trust the plan. Trust the process.