Telling my parents about my marital demise was a hurdle I was close to terrified of jumping over. Ya' know what? It turned out to be not so bad. Once again, my overactive imagination was spinning tales of crying, yelling and blame being tossed around. The reality wasn't even close.
Accepting that my marriage really IS over was the first hurdle. Telling my parents was the second. I'm not going to tell you I'm done crying. I'm not going to tell you that buried deep down inside of me there isn't a tiny, little piece of me that hangs onto a tiny, little bit of hope. I'm not going to tell you this doesn't still hurt. It doesn't hurt all the time. It doesn't hurt every second of every day like it did for so long.
I can be in the same room with him, briefly, and not feel like screaming at him and clawing his eyes out. I can think about him and us and the memories I'll always have and not cry. I know in a week, a month, it will be a little better. A little easier.
I'm still a little scared. Sometimes a LOT scared. :) But I have good friends who encourage me, motivate me and comfort me when I need it. And even when I think I don't.
I know a year from now I'll look back and think "It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be.". I know I'm going to face challenges but I'm willing to face them head on and work through them. There will always be someone to turn to when I need a little push or a hug. And someone to celebrate, even the little milestones, with.
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