I saw the date on my phone this morning, otherwise, I wouldn’t have known. It’s the anniversary of my divorce. Two years bundled up now, three years since my return. This morning I walked downstairs to the basement bedroom, where I share my nights and my bed with my dog, Mango. Flynn, the grey cat with golden eyes, sometimes slips in, too. The other dog, Rosie, sleeps in the kitchen; Mango has declared she’s not allowed. I’m waiting and rooting for Rosie to whip his ass. Someday, maybe.
Somewhere, almost mid-way down the stairs, warmth pulsed through my body, my heart almost bursting with a love for myself and the life I’ve made. And no, loving myself is not a bad thing. Lexington and NOW are a far cry from India, where my tears salted my thighs as I waited for my husband to leave me. Walking on eggshells in a hot flat. Monkeys screeching outside the window-was it their warning I refused to hear?
As I enter into my divorce anniversary, which ironically, corresponds within a day of my landing in Kentucky one year earlier, I am truly astounded at the change in myself. It was difficult to begin, to “take care of yourself” as my therapist used to say. “I don’t know what self-love is,” I would cry, feeling like a complete dumbass. I didn’t find the directions or the way in my history. I found it as I sought a new life, throwing myself into therapy, writing, reading, medication and the words of a few friends who really knew.
Through tweaking, testing and thinking, I’m getting closer to what I want for myself. One thing’s for certain, I’m learning to flourish, to live my best life. I want to help others do the same, to provide healing through writing and other modalities. Today, I can honestly say I am thankful my husband left me in India. Otherwise, I would never have experienced the abundance I have now.
In the photo with the hat, I’d only been back a few months and looked like a stick figure. Just look at the difference self-care makes! If you are struggling, please just take that first step toward self-love.