divorce

Love

Posted on December 22, 2014 Written by Tonya

I thought I knew love.

I experienced my first crush in the second grade. Every time I saw him or was near him I would burst into giggles and so of course, I avoided him like the plague.

In sixth grade, my crush made my palms sweaty and I did everything I could to be near him. He and I shared a single kiss, a peck really and it turned my world upside down.

In the seventh grade I was “going out” with a ninth grader. We held hands and waited for one another by each others lockers and thought I was pretty special. Little did he know, I had a crush on his best friend.

As a ninth grader, I was kissed (among other things) for real and thought it was love.

As a sophomore, I lusted after someone I couldn’t have and whenever I saw him felt butterflies in my tummy. He smelled like Drakkar Noir and I doodled his name inside tiny hearts on the inside covers of my notebooks. I probably stated dating an older boy who went to a different school because he wore the same cologne. We would spend hours on the phone talking about nothing and I thought it was love.

When I met the first boy/man I thought I was going to marry I couldn’t even articulate what I was feeling so that had to be love. I identified with every love song on the radio and it was as though a light bulb had gone on in my heart. We were polar opposites but this is it. This has to true love! Our relationship latest three years, however, looking back, that two years too long.

My heart literally skipped a beat and I stopped breathing for a full minute when the first man I loved asked me to marry him. We had survived a year long long distance relationship and lived together, broken up and found our way back together. Eventually we were married. It was wonderful for a while, but fundamentally we were too different, wanted different things from life and in hind insight should have remained friends. He’s a great guy and we are still in touch.

I was lucky enough to make it down the aisle a second time and I couldn’t have been happier. I held on to my father’s arm, surrounded by all of my favorite family and friends and said “I do” to the most amazing man I had ever met. My soul mate. My other half, my plus one, the one I was meant to be with.

Through my 20s and 30s I thought I knew all there was to know about love. Turns out I really didn’t have a clue.

I would never claim that one cannot know love until they have a child because love comes in many forms – gay, straight, unrequited, platonic, even puppy love.

But the love of a child? That’s different.

It became crystal clear to me the moment I became a parent how much my own mother and father cherished me.

These two little people… my son and my daughter, they have cracked open my heart in intricate ways it has never known before and revealed to me true, unconditional, pure love and I will never be the same.

On Turning 30

Posted on May 11, 2014 Written by Tonya

My sister, Leah turned 30 in March (I’ve been working on this post since before then!) and that’s huge! I am happy for her and the new decade that lies ahead. Everything seems to be going really well in her life right now.

There are almost 12 years between me and my sister and it has been both a delightful and sometimes agonizing process to watch her grow into the woman she is today.

Our parents would be very proud of her and how strong our bond is as sisters.

As I wrote in Leah’s birthday card, I remember turning 30 and what a strange, sad and yet magical year it was, not to mention the nine that followed.

In some ways it seems eons ago and in others as though it were just yesterday.

I celebrated my 30th birthday with family and what I thought at the time were close friends surrounding a tepan table. I don’t remember any gifts I received that night but I distinctively remember feeling equal parts anxious and excited about the next 10 years of my life.

I talk to no one who was at that dinner today except my sister. My (at the time soon to be ex-) husband and in-laws were there and several people that are now only “Facebook friends”. The two most important guests were my parents and they died five years later during the not so magical part of my 30’s.

I was 30 when my first husband and I parted ways, I started wearing clothes that fit me because I was finally comfortable with my body, I had a job I adored at an advertising agency and I met and made friends with women that I couldn’t have imagined would become so important to me in the next decade and the one after that. I lived alone for the first (and only time) in my life and loved every minute of it!

Before I turned 31 I would meet my now husband and experience love like I had never known, but before that I would curse the time I wasted with my ex because I thought he was “The One” and my only shot at having a family. Clearly I was delusional. I also had other demons to fight and I struggled to find solid ground in the workplace and my bank account. 30 (and beyond) is when it all came together for me, I was no longer a child and came to understand that life is not always fair and that’s okay. Fair doesn’t leave any room for grace or mercy.

Happy Birthday, again, my sweet Leah. I hope your decade is off to a exceptional start and only gets better.

Leah & I celebrating her 30th birthday at Little Sister, Manhattan Beach – March, 2014

Letter To Me

Posted on April 3, 2012 Written by Tonya

Admittedly I don’t read Mandy’s delightful blog, Mandyland as much as I wish I could, but I dig this woman so much, especially after reading the letter below.

Mandy has had a rough year surviving a divorce with two young children and has not only lived to tell about it, has handled it with grace and dignity.

Her poignant letter proves that sometimes all we need to know is that no matter what curve balls life throws us, every little thing is going to be okay.

Dear Mandy,

I heard that old song on the radio again. Do you remember it? Letter to Me? As I sat in the car and sang along, I came up with the idea to write a letter to myself and hope through some sort of magic, it will be delivered safely to my hands when I need it the most. If I had a guess, I’d say spring of 2012. I know that was a rough year.

First of all, I want to assure you – the Apocalypse doesn’t happen. However, all your friends will rave over the zombie cupcakes you’ll bake and you’ll keep canning and gardening. Just in case.

Whatever you do though, don’t buy a goat thinking you’ll make cheese. It’s a huge waste of time and that stupid thing will eat all your plants.

Now that I’ve eased your mind in that respect, let’s get serious. I want to tell you it’s going to be okay. I know you don’t feel like it will be and you’re annoyed as hell at all the people saying it to you, but it’s true. Everything is going to be okay.

The kids are going to be just fine. Joseph doesn’t end up a serial killer and Elizabeth won’t be a dictator.

In fact, do you remember how Joseph always said he wanted to be a firefighter when he grew up? I’m not going to ruin the surprise, but suffice to say, that same caring, loving little boy who wanted to help people is going to grow up to be a caring, loving man who does. I’m so proud of him. He came by the house for dinner yesterday and told me something I think you need to hear. He sat at the table, that six foot plus man who used to be a little armful, and said, “You did the right thing, you and Dad. You did. I don’t think there was anything else you could do.”

I teared up. I know you’re worrying right now about whether or not he’ll ever forgive you. Please know he never blamed. He never thought there was something to forgive.

As for our Miss Elizabeth…I’m not going to lie. Her teenage years were tough, but you’ll both get through it. A little battered and bruised perhaps, but if you can see her as I see her today, you’ll know you did a good job. She’s beautiful, strong, independent, and most of all, just like her Nana.

I know! You think it’s your worst nightmare, but trust me. It’s not. She has a big heart and a steely resolve. That girl conquers the world and she does it with her dimpled grin in place.

As for Chad, well, he’s going to be there. He’s still one of my best friends, coming over for Sunday brunch at least once a month. Does he have someone special in his life? He does. And don’t worry. You’ll get along just fine. In fact, better than you do with Chad half the time.

And I know you’re wondering if you’ll find love again. Don’t be a dork. Of course you will. And he’s pretty rockin’. Just remember, relax and trust in your heart. It’ll take a while, but you’ll get to the point where you’ll feel like you can trust another person, so stop freaking out. You are not going to be a lonely old woman with chickens and cats. Mostly because the cats eat the chickens, but I’m getting off track.

It’s going to take you most of 2012, but I promise you, by the end you’ll come into your own. And yes, you’ll keep writing. And no, I’m not saying anything else. Just trust me on this one. You’ll find love and a publisher. No. They’re not the same person so stop Googling single publishers.

Please remember to be kind to yourself. Cut yourself some slack. I know it’s not in your nature, but you need to ease up on yourself and stop feeling guilty all the time. You’re working full time. So what? The kids will be fine with it. You’re not going to miss out on anything. They know they’re loved and that’s really all that matters in the end.

I thought long and hard about when I wanted to deliver this letter. For a moment I almost sent it back to 2002 and told you to stop seeing that guy Chad and concentrate on the teacher for troubled youth. What was his name? Nevermind. It’s not important. What is important is realizing I don’t regret marrying Chad. I don’t regret it because it gave me the two more beautiful, precious gifts a woman could receive. When you’re feeling that tinge of regret, just remember that.

I’m going to end this letter without a lotto reveal – though now that I think of it, that’d be a great idea – instead I’m going to end it with the phrase you hate, the phrase that you’ll come to realize is true:

Every little thing is going to be okay.

Love,
Me

February 9, 2002

Posted on February 8, 2012 Written by Tonya

Ten years ago on this day, it was a Saturday and my now ex-husband’s sister’s two sons, our nephews, ages four and six were spending the night with us for the first and last time.

All night.

I hadn’t spent that much time with children since I moved out of my parents house (my own sister is almost 12 years younger than me). I was equal parts excited and nervous.

With their mother’s approval, I took them to see the movie The Lord of the Rings.

A three hour movie!

What was I thinking?

They were both up for it, so I thought what the hell. What did I know?

About 30 minutes into the film, the elder of the two started and kept carrying on about whatever latest video game device my ex had and wanted to go back to our house to play with it. I gave in, got my money back and we headed home.

My ex was probably on the back 9 and ~~didn’t want to be~~ couldn’t be reached and I had no clue how to work the video game. There was whining and I’m sure tears, but like I do now with Lucas, I distracted them with what I can’t recall and before long they (sort of) forgot all about blowing stuff up while zoning out in front of the TV.

The next morning came too soon, not only because I was enjoying playing house, but I remember thinking I hope all children don’t wake up this damn early. Ha!

I remember I made pancakes because that’s what families did on Sunday mornings and I vividly recall envisioning myself being a mother someday as I gave each of the boys a turn mixing the batter.

Three months later, my marriage unraveled and I wouldn’t become a mother for another seven years.

Fast forward ten years and I still miss those two boys, who now have a younger brother and think of them often. I wish that there could have been some way that I could have remained in their life, remained their aunt.

This post was written for Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop Prompt 2.) Start with the phrase: “Ten years ago on this day, I was…” (inspired by Business 2 Blogger)

At Ease

Posted on August 15, 2011 Written by Tonya

We held hands the entire drive home from the therapist’s office.

Relief.

A decision had been reached.

The words spoken out loud.

Later would come the tears. And questions.

So many questions.

Some people offer disconcerting looks, you know the one that says, “oh, I’m sorry, I brought it up.” and then quickly ask if I got married too young, like that’s a suitable excuse.

“No, we were 27 and 30 respectively,” I answer matter-of-factly and in my mind think: old enough to have been around the block a couple of times, but young enough to still believe that love conquers all.

A lot of people don’t even bat an eye and a few are shocked as hell at the discovery.

I was married before I met Lucas’ father.

Over 50% of all marriages in the U.S. end in divorce. I am not proud to be a part of this group. I know it shamed my parents, especially my father. I apologized to him over and over again.

My ex-husband and I met in college, dated for three years, broke up for six months, reunited, were engaged for a year and married for almost three years. No one did anything wrong in our marriage, but neither of us happy. We shared some good times, great laughs and I don’t regret a single moment I spent with him, but somehow I knew our marriage wouldn’t last.

No one gets married to get divorced, but sometimes love doesn’t conquer all. It’s native to think it does. I know this now. Sometimes priorities are warped, you lose sight of yourself in spite of yourself and over time realize the person you thought you fell in love with is someone else entirely. People change. It’s as simple and as complicated as that.

I knew something was missing.

It was me.

I was missing from my own marriage!

From the moment I said, “I do,” my true authentic self began disappearing. It was slow at first and then like a whirlwind. I became this odd matronly figure that wore clothes that were a size too big and I started buying trivets and cookie jars. I was trying to be the “perfect” wife, knowing full well that no such thing existed. The more I lost myself, the sadder I became. Then I focused on trying to make myself believe that I was okay with being content.

Content.

I hate that word.

All the sacrifices and compromises weren’t worth it and in then end, I was only compromising myself.

We spent several months in mid 2002 trying to figure out what to do and if our marriage was salvageable. We sought marriage counseling and finally after many sessions and sleepless nights decided to go our separate ways. It was, to date the hardest decision I have ever been faced with.

My ex-husband is a good guy; charismatic and ambitious. He has a wonderful family and had an all-American upbringing. We wanted different things and in an effort to be true to ourselves had to say goodbye to one another.

I haven’t seen him since early 2008. He attended my parents memorial service, which was both unexpected and sweet. We’re Facebook friends (I think?) and we exchange yearly holiday cards and the occasional e-mail. He is remarried and has children and I hope more than anything is happy.

Anything but content.

I’ll never forget that drive home that hot August night.

As sad as I was, I was at ease.

This post is for Write On Edge’s weekly writing assignment RemembRED. This week’s prompt was: Write about a moment in your life when you knew something had to change drastically. Maybe it was a relationship, or career, parenting, school, diet – anything.

Love

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