My father died when I was 23 years old. I had about four weeks to digest that he was going to be leaving the Blue Marble. That’s hyper-speed. Not as hyper-speed as sudden death, but pretty close. I barely had time to buy a dress for the funeral. I’m being serious. I went the day before. In January. The racks were a sea of Spring. Not exactly winter mourning material.
His death was tragic. He retired early to be with the love of his life, was building his dream home, could finally travel to far-flung destinations just for the fun of it, and had 8 children who adored him and wanted to see him live out his prime years in total joy. Instead, he worked his tail off to raise us and put us through college and then melanoma took him down hard. (Wear your sunscreen, kittens.)
I don’t really recall those four weeks. I have vivid memories of one nap we took together before he was taken to the hospital, one conversation we had at the hospital (I had just bought a new car, a Probe – I still crack up at the name – and he wanted to know I would be responsible with it.), and the moment he died. Everything else is a blur. Until the night, one week after his death, when I went to my parents bed and crawled under the covers. I wanted to nap with him again. I drifted somewhere and woke to a cold breeze blowing through me. Not over me. Not around me. Through me. Through my body. (It was January in New Jersey. The windows were hermetically sealed.) That was the first time I gained a sense of the big-ness of life. The complexity, the levels, the dimensions, the planes, the here and the hereafter.
I sat up in bed, feeling off-kilter. Unsure of what had just happened. For about a second. And then I said, “I love you, Dad. Please don’t feel like you need to stay. I can handle it.”
I became Indestructo-Girl. That was me.
From that point on I toughed everything out. My father’s passing was an awesome (I’m using that word the way it was originally intended.) experience. I witnessed a man leave this world and move into the next. His passing matured me overnight. I became a woman who could handle it all. With the wisdom of age, I now see that I felt I had to be able to handle it all so that when a wrist-shot came from center ice I wouldn’t vaporize on impact. Alternate analysis: I couldn’t be vulnerable. Out of fear that I would implode. That I couldn’t handle it. That I would need someone’s help. And I didn’t want to be a bother.
I motored through life batting away one challenge after another like my world was an arcade game. That became my modus operandi until just a few weeks ago. Oh, hogwash. It’s still my M.O. But it can’t be me anymore, as so many of you have pointed out. (Thank you, love you, owe you.)
So, if that’s not me, then who am I? Not what am I, but who am I?
I’ve been staring at that last sentence for 10 years minutes. The easy answers are the labels society constructs for us: woman, mother, daughter, sister, friend, ex-wife. But what is my essence? (I have to laugh…essence is the word the boys and I use for fart. It just rolls off the tongue better and is hilarious when a 4 and 6 year old say, “Mommy, I just let out my essence!”) Perhaps it’s not a question we should be asking at all.
Mel Schwartz, L.C.S.W. wrote this in an article titled, “Who Am I? in Psychology Today: “A sense of inadequacy often informs the question around “Who am I?” As people engage the deepening complexity of understanding themselves, they would fare much better to devote themselves to the unfolding process of life. Witnessing our thoughts, not reacting out of old habit, and becoming present enable us to better craft our lives. As such, the identity that we seek fires the wave of life, enriched by the flow.”
My life isn’t static anymore. Technically it was never static but it sure felt stuck. Stuck like Princess Buttercup in the Fire Swamp encased in snow sand while battling ROUSes. Life is flowing, I am flowing with it, and therefor I am changing, shifting, morphing every day. So instead of asking Who am I? I’m going to ask, How am I going to meet the day? I won’t meet it alone, I know that much.
See, I have this little friend. I call her my Observer Self. She sits like a bird on my shoulder, carefully watching with her eyes my every move. She notes my emotions, witnesses my reactions, and chuckles at the way I conveniently ignore that which I don’t want to address at all. She’s always there and she wishes I would have a 24/7 relationship with her, but sometimes my mind takes over and pushes her mercilessly off her perch. Mel alludes to an Observer Self in his article when he says, “Witnessing our thoughts, not reacting out of old habit, and becoming present enable us to better craft our lives.”
My Observer Self, who is way better dressed, has zero jiggle, perky boobs and perfect hair (She’s my Observer Self, it’s my right to make her hot.) is my witness. I do best when I see life through her eyes. When I tune in to her she keeps me present. I can’t be listening to her guidance about what is happening right in front of me and stressing about the future or lamenting the past. I am not that kind of multi-tasker. Multi-tasking for me is singing while driving.
I know this much: I’m not Indestructo-Girl, I am a good person, and I’m changing every day. I’m going to tune in more to my hot Observer Self so that I can craft my experiences by being fully present in the moment. Witnessing my emotions, thoughts, feelings and interactions from an objective and present place will give me the power to create my beautiful, loving, happy, centered life by being instead of reacting.
That sounds worth doing.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Dear Cleo,
I’ve been reading your story and watching you grow. I have no words of wisdom to share nor am I eloquent enough to share my feelings about you.
I feel that through my own experiences I’ve lived ten lifetimes and I’ve emerged stronger and more whole. I wish the same for you.
You are so brave and honest and I hope that your writings stand the test time and continue to teach and inspire
I am here for you even though you don’t know me and my prayers are with you.
Your sister in spirit,
R
R,
I am so touched. Thank you for your gentle and kind words. If tears were an exhaustible commodity I would have run out by now.
I am brave and honest because you encourage me to be, and because you don’t judge me. Not only are you eloquent but you are beautiful. Thank you so much for starting my day off with love.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Hi Cleo,
You writting is pretty amazing. Your story is a sad but a very common one. I feel sorry for your children, you are a strong woman and a great Mom, keep doing what you do.
I have been living through the last year in the river of sorrow and walking on the trail of broken promises and shattered dream. I know how it is that you feel.
Love is a funny thing. We can control a lot of things in our lives but love is not one of them. It puts our brain in sleep mode and then lets our heart take over. Our hearts want what they want and our brain at the best of times, has no say. Hense, affairs of the heart.
I met the perfect girl for me, she is Texan, I am Canadian and we met in Mexico, 7 years ago today. I always thought that marriage, love and commitment would trump distance (2500 mile ) and time apart. Sometimes 2-3 months apart, but we spoke at least 3 hour on the telephone every night. I always believed communication was so very important. Being able to look into the night sky and share the same moon as we spoke always helped the miles fall away and our hearts reconnect. I have tears in my eyes now just thinking about those nights apart, our love and the moon light brought us close if only in spirit. It was a warm and peaceful feeling. I do miss it.
Sadly, if someone is a cheater, that is what they are, they show you who they are and then they make it our job to believe them, as painful as it is.
I truly know how you are feeling. To get a straight answer out of someone that has a major in deceit and a minor in charm, is a very tough thing. Love makes us want to believe the crap that comes spewing out of them, but common sense tells us that we wasted our time, which really means we wasted our lives loving someone that is really incapable of loving them selves.
Like your husband, my wife is from a long line of cheaters. The things you learn after the fact, always I have found to be of the most value. It is so sad that if someone is done with a relationship that they do not take the time out to reflect upon it and give them selves a chance to heal and feel the pain that they have caused someone else. Most cheaters are like monkeys. They have a firm grip on the tree that they are going to next before they let go of the one that they are leaving. Cheater also do not care if to whom they are going to next is married. Hurting families mean nothing to these people. They get what they want. That is all that matters. They have no feelings so how could anyone else possibly feel? The only saving grace that puts a smile on my face in all that has happened to myself, is I know that karma is real and if someone cheats WITH you, be looking over your shoulder dirt bag cause they eventually will cheat On you. I am so glad I am me, you must be very happy that you are you. Could you imagine having to wake up each morning being Brenda or your exhusband. That would be hell on earth for someone with a heart and soul. Good for them that they lack both. Poor things
This has been nice, I hope you know you are not alone, there are millions of us in this Broken Hearts Club. I know from experience that we are getting stonger each time we share a bit of our sorrow with other kind souls. Thank you for sharing with all of us. Always be true to yourself and standup for what you believe in. You are a cool girl. It is a pleasure to be following along with you on your journey of personal thoughts, feelings and emotions.
Darrin
Darrin,
Thank you so much for taking the time to read my words and to share so freely your story. For all the differences men and women have, we are alike when it comes to the broken heart. I’m sorry you had to endure this betrayal.
“we wasted our time, which really means we wasted our lives loving someone that is really incapable of loving them selves.” You did not waste your time. You have grown through this experience and will hopefully continue to blossom. Brenda came into your world for a reason. Your responsibility is to discover why.
It’s amazing the power of sharing, no? An encounter with another person with whom you feel comfortable enough to share your pain is such a blessing. Before HGM I kept everything in. I didn’t want to be a burden. Oh, to think about the opportunities to bond with others I have missed by being Indestructo-Girl. At a time when I might be inclined to curl up in a ball with a few pints of Ben & Jerry’s, I find myself reaching out, through this blog. And the support, love and guidance I have received is beyond priceless to me. It’s miraculous.
We all look at the same moon. Although tonight it’s finally raining in Marin so no moon. The next time the moon shines I’ll be looking up at it knowing all of you are doing the same. I feel so connected. And to think that only a few months ago I felt disconnected from everything – including myself.
Thank you, Darrin. Continue on this journey with all of us. You’re cool too!
Love yourself,
Cleo
Hi Cleo,
I’ve gone back on some of your older postings and am reading what your ‘fans’ have had to say. I refer to Lori on Mar 13 where she talks about the ‘other’ women and why they would do this to us, their sisters……. To them we say – When you marry a man who cheats on his wife, you’re married to a man who cheats on his wife.
Silly girls.
I’ve stolen your line and promptly tweeted it. With credit. Cuz I’m honest like that.
If Gaga has little monsters I want little kittens. You rock, Patty.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Love it Patty! I’d never heard it before, but I’ll never forget it now.
I am very conscious of the presence of Indestructo-Girl in my life. I try to balance her with the Vulnerable Girl on the corner of the room wishing to be noticed but hoping to be ignored, to be kept a secret. I commented a few days ago that my marriage is a work in progress-this is one of the work we need to do. That in our society where women rocks, we have left our men to feel disposable, even emasculated. Does this excuse the Genius for his behavior? Of course not. There is no excuse for that behavior. NONE! But my point is that it is ok, in fact, it is sometimes preferred that we reveal our vulnerable selves because they are part of us, no more denying their need to be present in our lives. Vulnerability is not a sign of weakness–I learned this the hard way. It’s a sign that I’ve grown comfortable enough in my own skin to admit it, to seek help, to welcome it.
Grace,
“we have left our men to feel disposable, even emasculated”…so very true.
I remember The Genius offering to help me around the house back in January and I told him I didn’t need his help. He said, “Of course you don’t.” Need I say more? I could have done a MUCH better job of letting him shine by being more vulnerable. Finding the balance between strength and vulnerability can be a difficult challenge. But I wonder if, by being fully present in the moment, we flow between being strong and being vulnerable with ease and at just the right time.
I love reading how you are processing this all. Please continue to share. And…
Love yourself,
Cleo
Cleo,
What a beautiful story about your father. Thank you for sharing it.
Indestructo-Girl. When I was younger I was convinced it was a burden to be a strong woman. I used to see so many other more vulnerable souls getting compassion from others for their trials and tribulations while I was left to my own. But I was raised to be strong and independent. It took me a very long time to realize that I needed to put something out into the world in order to get something back. It actually took my picking up stakes and moving to a foreign country completely alone for that to happen, the solitude of that experience helped me to see clearly that I could be vulnerable and what I stood to gain from putting myself out there more was tenfold. And you know what happened when I put myself out there? I got all that love and support from others. It turned me from being a strong woman into a super duper strong woman.
And I think that is what is happening to you with this blog. You were Indestructo-Girl but now you have found your Kryptonite by sharing your story and getting all this wonderful support from so many people. In some way maybe this blog is giving you the emotional support you didn’t get from the Genius. I know it is not the same thing but just look at how many people you are reaching with your blog (I also came to it via Lainey Gossip) and all the wonderful support you are getting from people reading and commenting. It’s fabulous.
You will come out of this experience even stronger than before but also with wisdom to make the choices that will give you the life you want.
Big hug,
Dana
Dana,
I’m taking your big hug and cloning it. I need about 50 of those right now.
Giving myself permission to be vulnerable this week has made me feel exposed and raw. I believe in your words and will let these feelings wash over me and drain away the pain.
I am humbled by and grateful for all the support I have received. I honestly couldn’t imagine going through this without all of you. I trust that more will find HGM and we will create a place where betrayal, infidelity and divorce can be worked through together. With a massive dose of laughter. Massively massive.
I think I have to go watch a South Park episode. I need laughter like like Lindsay Lohan doesn’t need another injection of face fat.
While I go rock my world you go…
Love yourself,
Cleo
Cleo,
I found your blog through Lainey and have been absolutely entranced, but really, have not been able to figure out why. I’m 28, I’ve been in one serious relationship in my life, and really it ended quite amicably. For whatever reason, I have felt connected with your writing and your emotions.
Reading this entry solved the mystery. My father passed away when I was 25. It was sudden, a heart attack, and it completely shattered everything I thought I knew about the world. My only vivid memory of the month that followed was crawling into bed with my mother on the night he died, both of us numb, both of us not expecting to sleep a wink. As I stared into the darkness, this feeling of warmth washed over me and I knew we could survive.
Since then, I have been “Indestructo-Girl”. Everyday is an “arcade game” and everyday I feel like if I let my guard down, even for just a second, I won’t survive.
Now this idea of vulnerability has touched me. And scared me. Being open and honest and allowing the emotions of the day to course through me – not just slip past me, that sounds like a challenge. On top of that, I am now asking myself the loaded, “Who am I?” question. Yikes!
So as terrified as I am, I feel like I should thank you. I don’t know if I’m sure of why…but I think I’m at least open to figuring it out. Knowing that you have been sharing your lowest and high (I think you’re still climbing
) points with the world makes me feel a little more comfortable towards the possiblity of sharing mine with myself.
I look forward to continuing to read about your journey, and perhaps even making a few more connections to mine along the way.
Kristy
Kristy,
I’m entranced by your words. The way you are able to see the connection we share even though our situations are different is exhilarating. You are on your way, m’lady. And your Dad is holding your hand.
My heart is convinced that being vulnerable and open is the key to living a full and rewarding life. But how to do that when the risks of being open and vulnerable seem to scary? Trust. But how do we trust when we’ve been hurt – by betrayal, loss, or any one of the other numerous ways our hearts can be speared? We trust. We do it because it’s the only way to move through life.
Your comment has made it crystal clear for me. I have to trust myself. I CAN do that without risking harm. I know I’ve got my back. So I’m going to trust me. Who am I? I am one who trusts myself.
Thank you, Kristy. Your words have made an impact. Don’t go far…I’m going to need you again.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Very powerful response Cleo. I come back to it again and again. I’ve decided to cut and paste all the things in this blog that really resonate for me and put them someplace safe so I can go back to them when I need strength. So true – you CAN trust yourself and at first glance that sounds lonely, but it isn’t – it’s extremely powerful.
D,
Thank you for your kind words. I am so grateful that my words resonate with you and provide you with a map of sorts to get through these experiences with grace, and an intact sense of humor. You provide the very same thing to me. Stay close…
Love yourself,
Cleo
My mother died of skin cancer when I was 14, after being sick for nearly 5 years (it all started with melanoma). But in all that time the possibility of her dying never crossed my mind. Until a few hours before her death, when it was clear she was going to die. I just wanted to share this with you since, unfortunatly, we have that in common.
Take care!
M,
Thank you for sharing your story. Melanoma is brutal. I’m grateful to be educated about it now so that I can protect myself. I only wish my Dad had the same luxury.
Love yourself,
Cleo