Friday, May 24, 2019

Letting the Fire Reshape Our Lives: What Will You Create?

The difference between a good life and a bad life
is how well you walk through the fire.
~Carl Jung

I know how many of you are unhappy. The pain still weighs heavy. The days cast a shadow. Joy feels slippery. 

And though the flames might no longer encircle you, you can still feel their heat. You're not out of the fire yet.
Fire is nothing to be trifled with. It decimates centuries of old-growth trees, it razes entire cities, it kills.
But it also shapes. Fire, of course, forges steel. And so it's possible to use this time of walking through the fire to reshape our lives. 
I know. It's hard enough to get to work, keep the fridge full, and ensure you don't run out of tear-proof mascara. But stay with me for a minute. Cause the people I know who've come out of this fire with lives they love are those who've used it to create necessary but sometimes long-resisted change.
Cause when it's all burned to the ground, it's time for new growth. And that includes you.
Not all at once, of course. No need to tell off your boss, quit your job, sell your house, and finally give your mother-in-law a piece of your mind all in one day.
Instead, as the old adage about eating an elephant goes, you do it one bite at a time. Forget, for the moment, that your marriage feels like it's hanging by a thread: How's the rest of your life going for you? Even before D-Day, did you spring out of bed, excited about the day ahead? Or did life feel like a slog? Did days end with a sigh or relief or ease? 
Ask yourself: Whether or not my marriage survives, what do I want my life to look like? Who do I want to be? How do I want to live? We know you can't control him, right? But you can control you. And that, as we discover through this, is enough.
One friend of mine, whose husband left her for the OW, carved out a new career. She sounds like a warrior, doesn't she? She is. But she's also someone who sat on a park bench, not long after D-Day, considering how best to kill herself. She believed, in that darkness, that everyone would be better off without her. The fire was too much. Except that it wasn't. Not for her. Not for someone willing to walk through it. 
She began to wonder what her reshaped life would look like after surveying the ruins of her marriage – the one she thought would keep her safe, the one that she had trusted to support her as she raised their special-needs child – and realizing that nobody was coming to rescue her. She sent out loads of applications, told everyone she knew that she was looking for a new career, and now loves her job, her family is thriving, and her ex? Well, who cares how he's doing? 
Not all of the reshaping looks so dramatic. Sometimes it's about taking stock of your life and realizing your friends really suck. They make you feel bad about yourself, they gossip about others, and they are nowhere to be seen when you're hurting. Maybe the fire is about reshaping your friendships – spending less time with those people so there's more time for people who make you feel good.
Often (as in almost always), it's about learning how to set and enforce clear boundaries in our lives. No longer agreeing to host in-laws who routinely disrespect you. Refusing to reconcile with a guy who won't go to therapy
Sometimes the reshaping is literal. Realizing you've put your health on the back burner while you took care off everyone else. Maybe the fire is about reminding you to prioritize yourself. Three-times-a-week gym visits, a running partner, daily hikes. 
Maybe it's about breathing life into an old dream. Remember how you used to love sewing clothes for your dolls? Or making earrings from polished stones? Or doodling in notebooks? Or writing song lyrics? Or sailing? Or gardening? Or... Or... Or...? What happened to that girl? Oh right. She became so busy making sure everybody else was chasing their dreams that she forgot she had any. 
What if the fire helped shape those dreams? I'm not saying you have to create your own Etsy store (though, why not?). I'm just asking you to make space in your life for what you love too. No asking for permission. No I'll-do-it-when-the-kids-are-grown. Step at a time. 
My point is this: Betrayal surrounds us fire whether we choose it or not. And, as Jung points out, the difference between a good life and a bad one is what we do with that fire. It can consume us or it can burn down the old to inspire new growth. 
What will you create in its wake?





9 comments:

  1. Steel is forged in fire... My D-Day was January 11, 2003, over 16 years ago. We had been married for 25 years, had 75-hour work weeks, no children by mutual choice, family and friends we rarely saw. We were a dedicated, successful team. His affair was a chance meeting with a stranger while out of town, 3 months of telephone romance and one week together at her place (she lived in another state & he often traveled for work). I found "her" in his pocket when he got home from a trip. It was a complete shock. I had been a follower to his lead, making his plan for our life my plan as well. When I could catch my breath, I told him he had to choose, right now. He called and ended it with her in my presence, but the next several months were hell. Screaming arguments or cold silences, and separate bedrooms. We couldn't find common ground. I was wounded, embarrassed, angry, and suspicious. He apologized, but blamed it all on me, and became defiant, stating he wouldn't let me flog him with this forever. He refused counseling but neither of us said "divorce." So I worked up the courage, bought a condo across town and moved out, making it clear I wasn't giving up anything, just relieving the tension. He was relieved as well. We spoke on the phone frequently. I went to the house on weekends, dealt with our bills, helped with chores. We were married and everything was joint, but we lived separately for 4 years. During the 4th year, I took early retirement from my career and went to our home M-F as a job, taking over management of his home office, but going to my condo at the end of each "work" day and on weekends. Many nights he would come to the condo for dinner and then go back to the house. We found a way to be together without fighting. I got involved with a group who did distance walks for charity, found a social outlet (no dating), and discovered self-confidence and self-reliance. I was forged by that fire into a strong, independent woman for the first time. When he suggested we put our life back together, I sold the condo and moved back into our home. For the next couple of years I thought it was the wrong decision. It was strained and uncomfortable living together again. We slowly got past it, but have never again shared a bedroom, partly due to sleep issues, partly because we never made it back that far to 'us.' We've only been sexually intimate a countable number of times over the 16 years, but do have affection, concern and respect for each other. We are a comfortable, older couple. He only cheated that once, but that was all it took to change me forever. I don't think much about the future, because whatever comes I can handle it...alone if need be. I used to wonder if I could have found fulfillment with someone else, but we have a history and he's the one in most of my memories and experiences. I have a lot of joy in my life, my faith, my friends, but that dark time finds voice in my poetry and sometimes in my dreams. That bitter past is part of me...part of my personality. No regrets that I stayed, but I miss the love that didn't survive the fire.

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    1. Hey Unknown,
      This weekend is my 4 year DDay Anniversary. I haven't been on here in a while, but... tough weekend.
      Your post is exactly what I needed to hear right now. Your strength and experience is a good example of a path forward for me. Thanks for shining a light when I needed it.
      Sal

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    2. Wow, unknown, you are a force to be reckoned with! I'm so sorry that you have had walk through this fire but I'm glad you have been able to find joy again. Thank you for sharing your incredible story.

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  2. I was a 33 year old stay-at-home mom of 3 young children when I discovered my husband's first affair. I had always struggled with low self-esteem, so was sure it was all my fault. Money and time were in short supply so I was not able to afford to see a therapist and my husband refused to acknowledge or discuss the affair. I was terrified if he wanted a divorce the children would be awarded to him because he had the income to support them. We stayed together but as we all know, trust is difficult to rebuild and the fear of losing my children stayed with me. But I began to plan. When the youngest was finally in school full time, I went back to work and started to take courses at night. It took a number of years but as I completed each course I felt better and better about myself. I finally qualified as an elementary school teacher. It was a job I loved! But as Elle often reminds us, there are no guarantees in this life, so when infidelity struck again all these years later, I am in a much better place. I have some financial security, I feel better about myself and I know ( most days!) I will be fine. "Step at a time" that's all it takes, I promise you.

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    1. Jenna, thanks for sharing more of your story.

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  3. My husband is an alcoholic and was a pharmacist that lost his licence for stealing narcotics. I have caught him cheating over out 40 years of marriage but it was just flirting and texting. My anger and resentment kept me from being truly intimate. I was always suspicious about him sneaking booze. My worst year was when my daughter was getting married. My Mom suddenly passed away in Feb last year in the Day I hosted my daughter's shower. It was hard to plan a wedding while we were grieving and my Dad was so lost. I forget ahead withholding my grief so not to spoil things for my daughter. My husband always came home smelling of booze. I detoxef him twice while on vacation. Then after the wedding I realized he wasn't paying bills. I did some searching and found he had pulled 70 , 000 dollars out of our rrsp and gave thus tob2 hookers he met. One of the fmgirkd he began to care for and paid het rent and school while our daughter struggled to help pay for her wedding. I wanted to kill this man. I died that month and told no one. I had to try to work , breath. I couldn't sleep or eat. I told my son and daughter. I regret telling them because they hurt. It only took weeks before we had to go through Christmas like nothing happened. I forced my husband to quit drinking which he struggles with. I have seen therapists and read several books. I am now paying 15000 in taxes owed. It seems the repercussions have no end. I stayed as I invested my life in this man and we will retire soon. Trying to rebuild but life is a daily struggle. I don't think my kids understand the degree of my pain. My rage has turned me into a peaceful warrior .I
    I WILL NEVER BE THE SAME. I am stronger but broken. THIS IS MY NEW REALITY.

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    1. Oh, unknown I am truly sorry for the incredible pain and the challenges you are facing on so many levels. Your story and nudging from Beach Girl in an earlier post have encouraged me to look into my own legal/financial affairs more closely. Thank you for sharing. Please know you have an army of warrior sisters here to share this journey that none of us want to be on.

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  4. I just came back from dancing in a local parade. Immediately after d-day I realized that i had to go back to dance classes after having stopped 13 years before. I spent the last 5 years taking 2 classes a week. Sometimes during class I would have to take a break and cry, or cry through the dance. But I finally geared myself up to do a lifelong dream of dancing in public. My body hurts like mad now and I have an icepack on my knee but it was glorious.

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  5. This is such a good post, Elle. I mean, these are all good posts, but this one really spoke to me. It's almost 10 months since D-Day, and for the first time in 10 long months, I feel life returning. Not the old life, but glimmers of a life I want. Free of blame, free of being tainted by the color of what HE thought of everything. I feel the teensy bit reinvigorated, and it's not because my marriage is on the mend ... but because I am on the mend. And that's what matters.

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