About

     Originally, I had My Story all typed up for this blog. It was light on details, but I thought it got the point across. Then, after much prayer (let me tell you, it’s been a process and a journey), I felt the need to scrap that one. I’m not supposed to give you the polite, light and easy version of my life to be easily be marketed. I’m supposed to do the difficult thing, and put it all out there. It's not a short story, but it is real, and honest. So, here goes…

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     I always thought I was a little different from other kids. They didn’t go to religious conferences around the country and sit still for hours watching adults speak about their faith and the way God moves in their lives. Those kids were out playing with friends and such. Instead, I was involved in 2 separate youth groups. Went to weekly mass, and sometimes even went to my friend’s church for services too. Yeah, I was THAT kid.

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     On my 19th birthday, I met my future husband. He was 8 years older than me, had been married once already and had a 4-year-old child. He wasn’t Catholic like I was, and was barely even Christian. I told him early on in our relationship that I would not marry outside my faith. So he began to go to mass with me. Then he told me he wanted to become Catholic too. So he went to RCIA and became Catholic like me. We got married after dating for about 5 years. Shortly after, we bought a house across town and moved. We had a hard time finding a church we really liked, so we slowly stopped looking and soon stopped going at all.

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     For almost 15 years my marriage followed this pattern. Little by little, oh-so slowly I lost sight of who I was. I could have sworn I was happy though. (Hind sight really is 20/20.) Looking back, I realize that I was missing the support I needed to have a healthy marriage. But I didn't know it at the time and I didn't stand up for my needs like I should have. I quit going to school to raise his son. I stopped pursuing my goals of starting my own business. I gave up parts of me, that I didn’t realize I was losing. And I did it all willingly, because I thought it was for the sake of my family. I kept going, though, because I received plenty of words and promises, that looking back didn't have actions behind them. It’s no wonder he fell out of love with me after so many years. I had become a shell of my former self.

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     The year before we got divorced, on our anniversary, as we were driving to dinner and a show, he told me he met someone else and asked me if we both could start seeing this person. Then he told me he already had been seeing her for a couple of weeks. He thought I would be happy about it. I was shocked! We had never defined marriage as being “open” or “poly” like what is popular now.  So, why would he have thought I would be thrilled and happy for the bomb he had just dropped in my lap? To say I was confused and hurt would be an understatement.

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     That next year was rocky. I did my best to move on and fix our marriage. I insisted we see a counselor, and I thought everything was coming back together. Until apparently it wasn’t. This time, less than two weeks after our next anniversary, in November, I'm told, “I don’t love you anymore. I haven’t for years.” I was blindsided. When I asked him about it, he said he was tired of lying to me. He could no longer live in denial. He asked for forgiveness for hurting me.

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However, that's not all that was falling apart in my life at the same time. While working on our marriage, that summer, my dad had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, and we found out it was terminal. In December, my grandpa passed away from a heart condition.

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     Then, a couple weeks later, just after Christmas, we get a call. My mother-in-law collapsed in the bathroom. After a long bout of uncontrollable diabetes, her body finally gave up on her. She was on life support for nearly a week before the family learned she would never re-gain consciousness. She was one of the biggest supporters of my marriage, and I was happy that she went to her grave never knowing just how bad things had gotten in my marriage. In February, my husband moved out of the house. It was as if he couldn’t get out fast enough, he was eager to start his new life elsewhere. In June, my aunt passed away from mis-diagnosed stomach cancer. I moved out of the house in July, in an attempt to try and separate myself from the memories that resided in the house. I started to go back to church again, knowing God would heal both my soul and my heart. All this time, my dad was in and out of the hospital. In the beginning of August for my birthday dinner, I went to my dad’s house. We ate at his bedside while he went over funeral details for himself. Two weeks later he had passed away. One day he was there, the next…gone. That was in 2018.

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     In 2019 my divorce was finalized. After dealing with the previous horrible year, it felt like forever in limbo. He thought we could split things without a lawyer and just call it even between us.  It was in that moment that I realized he never got to know me on a deeper level. Once again, it hurt. I hired a lawyer. Turned out, even after splitting assets, I was owed $30,000 to make things “even”!

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     In 2021 during the pandemic, I was let go from the job I had worked for several years. This was a true turning point for me. I already began to feel a calling from God, but I didn't know what it could be.  While discerning my path, I took the time to become a full-time caregiver for my grandma. She was 91 years old with advanced Parkinson’s. I was blessed to be there with her as she passed away. I never would have gotten that opportunity if I had still been working. I also decided to go back to school and finish my degree. I graduate in the spring of 2025. I also have been in discernment to become a Spiritual Director. I will complete that certification sometime in 2028.

 

      So, within the last 5 years, my life completely rearranged itself. I got divorced. I live in a new-to-me home. I have a different job, while working to start my own business. I have one degree and am completing another. I have a different car, different clothes, different furniture. I lost 5 family members; an average of one per year.​ My grief has been profound for the last half-decade. As soon as I felt like I could move on, another something came along to knock me back down.

 

     Through all of this, I maintain hope. I've spent a lot of time working on forgiveness, and allowing God to heal my fractured soul. I know God was at work in my life and though I didn’t know where he is going with his plans for me, I know there is a plan. He pulled me out of my old life for a reason. I am being re-created. God is calling me to something new. It is now up to me to answer that call.