Friday, September 2, 2016


I'm really good at putting on a brave face. That's what it's called, "brave," or "strong" at other moments. And it's not that I don't disagree, I think I've embodied both at times throughout this tailspin of a year. But mostly, I feel embarrassed a lot. And for a variety of reasons.

Firstly, although I'm over the pull of him, I'm still humiliated that this happened. Logically and rationally, I know that this inevitably had nothing to do with me but the thought still lingers, "What the hell is wrong with me?" 

If I'm being honest, sometimes the thought sounds like, "Why wasn't I worth staying? Why wasn't Claire?" 

And then to be even more specific, "Why wasn't our family worth working on? Why didn't I deserve a conversation?" 

That's embarrassing. It's embarrassing that others may think that at some point in time. It's also embarrassing that my self-esteem hit that kind of low. 

It's embarrassing that I chose so wrong. I'm even embarrassed by his choices not on behalf of him but of myself. Downtown bars, smoke, kickball, college students, drag shows ... these are the activities that receive more attention, time and effort. Those are the activities that have been placed ahead of our history, our story and most importantly, a future. 

And then there's the victim card. I'm not portraying myself as a victim. This did happen to me though. It happened to my daughter too. Those are simple facts. He didn't break me because I didn't allow him to. I didn't allow him the option of tearing down my entire life while he self-destructed. His side of things may be mad at me for this. His side of things may not ask questions. But they should be grateful that I didn't crumble. I've kept myself and my home intact, so my daughter stays the whimsical, confident little girl that's she's always been. You're welcome. You don't have to like me or care for me, but you should be praying to God that he married the type of woman I am because Claire is better for it. He would have done this no matter the woman either. I can promise you that. 

But goodness, sometimes when I leave the house for errands, or I brush past someone I know around town a wave of embarrassment washes over me. I hope that dissipates at some point in time. Let's not be awkward about it. I'm already awkward enough. We can talk about it but don't be sorry. It's not your fault. The only apology I deserve I will never receive, and that's okay. 

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