Part of what I have done with this blog as used it as a reflection. Writing has helped me to see and understand the things that for so long I felt unable to admit. I was talking with some friends yesterday about a friend we know who is basically “lying to himself” when he talks with us. “Does he think we really don’t know?” we asked. I started to think about it. For years, I tried to convince myself my marriage was good by sharing with others how great my marriage was. The scenario went something like this:
I’m out with a friend or I’m at work or I’m standing in line, and a conversation occurs about the other person’s husband. I listen and wait. I am waiting for my moment to sing praises to my husband and my wonderful marriage. I would say, “I love him so much. He is such a great guy.” I tried to never complain about my husband because that would mean deep down I was admitting that things weren’t as I wanted others to perceive them. I went out of my way to show pictures of us to others, tell stories that sounded like our relationship was amazing, and find opportunities to share with others how marriage can be hard but so wonderful. And I did this for many years. My only defense it that I really didn’t know what I was doing. I wanted so bad for it to be different, something that I could be proud of, something that it COULD be, and I tried to make it that way for everyone else, but I had lost myself in return.
And that’s why people were surprised by my divorce. Shocked. I was shocked. I not only had convinced others that I lived a fairy-tale life, but in the process had convinced myself as well. This was a result of two-things: believing and doing. I am a “gut” girl. When I know something is right, I don’t second-guess I just act. That part of my brain that was protecting me was shielding me from reality. By convincing myself to believe things were different than reality, I could live the happy life I deserved. Until one day, I no longer believed it. I didn’t believe the lie that I told myself any longer. That was the beginning of reality.
People hide in the shadows of disillusionment because reality is too hard to face. Reality requires maturity, insight, and acceptance. It requires uncovering deep truths that have been buried. I lived two different lives. I thought they were the same, but they weren’t. The blurry reflection in the water was distorted, and I was not going to be able to make it clear no matter how hard I tried. So I simply stopped trying and started living.