Transformation: Lessons in Feelings

When I was growing up my maternal grandmother lived with us. We had a two bedroom home so my sisters and I shared a room with her. We called her Nanay, that means 'mom' in Tagalog (Filipino.) Every single night she would lead us in prayer. We'd ask God to bless every single one of our family members — I'm talking mom, dad, aunts, uncles, cousins, second and third cousins — and then we'd list all of the things we were thankful for. This is the earliest memory I have of practicing gratitude.

July 29, 2019

Mark called me while I was on my way home from a Formation Instructor Training class. He needed a few hundred dollars and insisted he'd pay it back the next day. I was still high on endorphins from just doing Freedom so against my better judgement I transferred it. Much to my surprise he was home when I arrived. Before I could even say hello he was already asking me to promise I wouldn't get mad. And then I heard our daughter say "don't be mad, Mom. It's okay, he can borrow my money. He said he'll give me double back later."

I swear the room was spinning. Mark lost the money I had just transferred him at the casino. And then he asked our eight year old daughter if he could borrow her money. He kept telling me she said it was okay and he just needed me to withdraw it for him. And she kept telling me she just wanted to help her daddy. And all I could think was he had finally hit rock bottom if he was asking our eight year old for her savings. This was it. I'd spent the last eight years shielding our children from his indiscretions and now he was making them a part of it.

This moment was a turning point for me. And it's one I am eternally grateful for. This was the moment I took my power back. I realized I couldn't be with Mark anymore, not like this; I was done. I asked him to pack his stuff and leave that night. I was devastated yet so liberated.

On any other night I would've turned up the old school slow jams, downed a bottle of wine and contemplated every single decision I'd ever made that lead me to that moment. I was the girl that would question 'why me' while cruising and singing to sad love songs. I'd take walks in the woods and scream 'why me' when I thought no one could hear me. I'd go to the beach and watch the sunset while pondering 'why me.' I'd angrily scrub the toilet while cursing 'why me.' And then I'd turn up with a bottle of gin and forget I had any problems to begin with.

I learned a long time ago that we always have a choice. My favourite latin phrase, amor fati, sums it up — love of one's fate. We have a choice in perception and action. We can choose to accept what is happening (and love it) or choose to reject it and live with all the emotions that come with rejection. We can only control what we can control. We control how we perceive things and how we act on those perceptions. We can't control the consequences of our actions but we can control how we feel about those consequences. And this is quite simply how I've remained resilient in the face of adversity. I've chosen to be grateful that I get to breathe life everyday — I can't take that for granted. And so I've chosen to love my fate no matter what.

What I've only learned recently is that I need to give myself permission to go through all the emotions first and then wholeheartedly accept my fate. Denying myself those feelings of anger, sadness, loneliness, disappointment and sorrow didn't do anything to help me. I have an inquisitive mind so it made more sense to me to ask the question 'why me?' over and over again (and overanalyze) instead of just letting myself feel anything. It was far easier for me to be analytical than emotional. I was feeling again and it felt good.

I quickly developed a new routine that I loved once Mark was out of the house. It wasn't just about me though. Mark and I have three kids. Life as a single mom became a whole new balancing act. They knew daddy was sick and they just wanted him to get better so he could come back home. We all just wanted the best for him. A surprising element to me throughout this whole thing was I felt so happy. I felt more liberated than ever. I was loving my new normal. And yet this newfound freedom consumed me with an overwhelming amount of guilt. My emotions were confusing the fuck out of me.

I oscillated between just moving on and making it work with Mark. I was feeling the best I'd felt in years. I wasn't internalizing Mark's problems anymore. His addictions were his addictions and he was finally addressing them. I could focus solely on me and the kids. I was working on me and thought maybe, just maybe, it would inspire Mark to do the same.

More than ever I looked to movement to release me from the perplexities of my life. And every single class guaranteed complete catharsis. Giving myself the opportunity to be 100% present allowed me to be more grounded and focused afterwards. I was becoming a better person; I could feel it.