When it seems as though life is crumbling around you, giving up may seem like the best choice. Here’s how to keep going when it seems your world has disappeared.
You wake up one morning and find that it’s true. Your life has been ripped apart and nothing is ever going to be the same again. The rise and fall of your chest under your satin sheets ensures that you are, indeed, still living… So, where do you go from here?
Unfortunately, this is a question more and more women are having to answer. It is also a question most of us never expected to have to answer. After all, we opted for the fairytale ending when we said “I do,” but…that’s life for ya!
It’s okay, sweetie. You can cry. When you are done, get up, wash your face and put some coffee on—you are going to be okay. I know that is not what you want to hear right now.
You want to just lay in bed, hoping that this will all go away or some prince charming you have never heard of is going to kick down your door and come to your rescue. At this, I am going to have to say: lay off the magic mushrooms. They’ll ruin your complexion!
Seriously. No matter how rude it sounds, we have all been there. And, we have all made it through. Some of us, barely, but we did it—and you will, too!
Here are a few things that will help you get through on those days when you think you can’t draw one more breath, lest you live, trapped in this virtual emotional prison.
Easier said than done, I know!
We are not superheroes. Yes, we do look like the golden goddesses of love and things like this don’t happen to us, but even the clouds block the sun once in awhile. That doesn’t mean that you have to let them rain on your parade though!
During the times when my kingdom was falling apart, I was imparted with one word: compassion. I was told to give myself the same compassion that I had extended to others.
Would I treat my BFF in the same way I was treating myself at this moment? Obviously not, so why am I beating myself up over all the ‘shoulda,’ ‘woulda’ and ‘coulda’ beens?
It is natural for us to dissect the cancerous portions of our lives and search adamantly for a cure. Like cancer, sometimes, there is no cure. Sometimes, things just die.
No amount of love, affection or change could have prevented it. It is like everything else in the universe. There is a time and season for everything and this season is over. Let it go.
It’s hard to see the bright side, when the clouds of desolation have descended on you, but there will be sunshine again. I promise!
Sitting and staring at all the reminders of what will never be is like dressing yourself in a cement kimono. While it may look like the only thing that fits right now, it is so not the season for it. Besides that, it’s not even your color. Throw that thing off and put on something glorious!
When you get up and show up, as they say, your mind will take on a different outlook of your surroundings. It helps us to remember who we are and what we are worth.
Then, you can begin to firmly plant those seeds of remembrance that, before you know it, will sprout into lovely fragrant flowers of success.
Give thanks for even the smallest things, like the last piece of bread for toast, having just enough milk for your Captain Crunch, or making through even one minute without crying (been there, done that).
Though you may not believe it (at the time, I didn’t), before you know it, you will be fine. Somehow, it just happens. Unexpectedly.
For me, this was the most exciting stage to get to. For more than twenty years, I was labeled as ‘his’ wife and ‘their’ mother. There was no ‘me’. That had never bothered me before, as I took great pride in being part of my tribe.
I knew that all the accolades my ex and children received were due, in part, to my behind-the-scenes, unappreciated work.
You, my dear, are like us other women who do not need the pat on the back for doing what we know needs to be done. Nonetheless, it wouldn’t have hurt for someone to come along and tell us, “Good job! We know you don’t get the credit you deserve, but thanks just the same”.
Once I got over that, along with accepting that there was nothing different I could have done, I let things be what they were. Yes. I did still harbor anger. I think that is a long-term release process that can only be worked out as each new trial that we face is turned into a triumph.
So, don’t sweat the anger—or the tears—you can still cry at this point…just not with your makeup on!
Once you can see yourself as ‘you’ with no other need or form of attachment, you will find that you are free to become anything your little ole heart desires. Me? Why, I went from a quiet, behind-the-scenes mom and unacknowledged wife to Cleopatra—at heart, anyways!
Yes, when I go out now, I don my most chic, sleek and stunning outfits. I dazzle and bedazzle my hair and body with the intent to turn heads and create adventures that weaker women would have heart palpitations over.
I am not talking that trashy, show-your-ass kind of wardrobe that makes people duck when they see you. I am talking about that regal Cleopatra’s-in-the-house-and-I-want-to-know-her kind of buzz.
You will be amazed at the people who want to be a part of what you are doing. Why? Because you are living what most fear—being your true self! How hard is that? I mean, there really is only one of you, right?
It may be mean and petty, but when you see the look on your ex’s face at what once was his treasure now being entertained by others not in his league: like Maybelline, it’s worth it!
Now, go on: get your sexy on. Live, and make him live to regret it. There ain’t no woman out there that can live up to you, and he knows it—or he will now!
Hello, my name is Rahab… well, not really, but it might as well be. If you were to see me on the street, I would look like your everyday, run of the mill, modern day “Woman Run Ragged”.
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