Big life changes are wonderful times to create excuses for the emergence of behaviors that are best left behind. Divorce and moving are two of those big life changes. All that chaos is camouflage for ways of being that feel homey, a familiar face in a crowd of strangers, when they’re really stalkers looking for moments of weakness to exploit, scraping at the still healing wounds of betrayal.
I felt reborn when we moved to Marin from the east. It was just before Spring, 2011. The rains didn’t stop for weeks. Back east that weather would have left me blue, but here it couldn’t dampen my excitement. I had found home. A place where rainy days are as beautiful as the sunny ones, and the fog rolling in as comforting as a trusted lover’s embrace. A place that supported me so fully as I watched my world melt like plastic on fire, leaving behind challenge after challenge – out of nowhere a broken family, the stench of deceit inescapable.
So, moving to Bolinas will be the easiest move yet, smack in the middle of two places I love so deeply, Limantour Beach and Stinson Beach. A reward for all my hard work. The perfect place to emerge from my shell, my incubation complete, and start fresh, living the life of my dreams.
We know it hasn’t played out that way. While there have been many moments of bliss and excitement, wet blankets are ready to be thrown at my insistence, from self-criticism, to making bad choices, to taking the easy way out in an effort to preserve some aspect of playfulness as I feel weighed down by responsibility and four thousand too many tortilla chips.
I underestimated the challenges of the move to Bolinas, but they can’t compare with the challenges of that first year post Pocket Call, right? I can handle it – look what I’ve been through!, I yell as my fingers rake down a sand cliff, the wild Pacific ready to drop me, and then drag me out to sea.
Optimism is at the foundation of a joyful life, but optimism without awareness is the blindfold that shields the eyes from acknowledging a precarious position. The sun feels warm, the breeze blows, the air is clean, cold, salty. Take a deep breath because the wind is about to be knocked out as the cantilevered perch liquifies beneath the feet, the sound of rushing sand masking the hard landing to come.
I narrowly avoided a hard landing, I hope, thanks to the sands of Limantour. We met yesterday for five hours. Fear of what I was going to see, hear, feel trapped me in the car for 20 minutes, wasting my time pulling off split ends, before I forced myself to leave the quiet interior for the white noise of waves. She led, and I released the need to direct the internal conversation as I made my way over the bridge that lifts me over a meadow and to the dunes.
A man approached, his daughter wrapped around him like a baby sloth. As I moved past, toward the small rise of sand that completely blocks from view the endless, active waters beyond, he called out over the churn – The whales are in!
I hoped to see them but sensed that Nature would provide no distraction from a most necessary look inside.
I hadn’t been to Limantour in days that became months before I could stop time. 18 miles on Mt. Tam nearly won out over 12 miles at sea level, my desire to burn the calories that have added up over the past few weeks leading the effort. Burning calories isn’t the right antidote. And, yes, despite not being bitten by neither bee nor snake, an antidote was most definitely needed.
Last week looked harmless enough. Who hasn’t dealt with terrible customer service, a swarm of bees and a soon-to-be divorced husband who makes himself feel better by telling you that you’re rude, mean and manipulative and then calls you Sunshine as he spits out goodbye? I felt like I had a handle on boundaries, and I had quieted the voice in my head that was adamant about reminders of not getting enough done, or not getting the right things done in the right way, or not responding in the right way to encounters with The Genius, but it was an illusion.
Ever so slowly, and with my encouragement, I had been losing the valuable ground gained over the last few months. Daily experiences became challenging – I pointed to the move and the divorce. Hiking and swimming lost out to the convenience of the gym – I chalked it up to needing to make sacrifices in order to live in paradise. Getting told for the 50th time that I’m mean and angry and awful simply something I will have to deal with for the balance of my days. Responding to it with spite and sarcasm a necessary way to protect myself from the verbal abuse.
Smiles forced, joy faked, time stretched so thin I winced waiting for the snap that would leave me cowering to avoid the backlash.
And then deep sadness.
I crested the dunes. A handful of people lounged in the sand. A woman struggled to make her way up the path to leave, a cane helping her move her too heavy body. She smiled a sad smile at me. I couldn’t smile back, sad or otherwise, but greeted her with a hello.
My knees winced as I found my footing in the sand. I have been on the elliptical and trails for so long I had forgotten my beach gait. Everything south of the waist has to be a little looser, more samba and less waltz. The waves weren’t as big as I thought they’d be. The wildflowers not so abundant and wild. The cliffs looked a little flat.
I can’t possible be used to this sight.
Forcing myself to stare hard at the waves looking for signs of migrating whales, I walked fast, with purpose, heading south. My desire to sweat strong, the need to leave it all on the beach my goal. At that time I was more focused on the workout than the work that needed to happen on the inside.
Focus misplaced by design, out of fear.
Before leaving for the hike I received an email from a kitten. She gently told me that my writing seemed overworked, that my voice was becoming harder for her to hear. She cared so much for me and the dudes that instead of moving on to other words from other writers, she chose to let me know. Her words drifted in front of my eyes, obscuring the view ahead.
They were moved over by thoughts of Mr. Viking. Brilliant, hilarious, fascinating. And being forced to make uncomfortable choices, choices necessary to survive and thrive. He doesn’t see life like I do, but is enamored with my ways, willing to suspend disbelief…for now. Kind of. Around him swirls uncertainty and anxiety. He’s coping with it.
While we have a great time together, I can’t be in the midst of the anxiety and uncertainty of another. Not on the level he’s experiencing now with his injury, the death of his brother and needing to make a massive leap of faith as he sets off to write. I felt like I had to help, wanted to help, and in doing so I highlighted the very ways in which I am not helping myself. His methods of coping only serve to cloud my judgment. While I am not judging him (I honor his perseverance, and respect his right to make the choices that he feels are best for him.), I am seeing how his ways don’t blend well with mine.
I’m grateful he’s moving to LA, although I will miss him a great deal. I don’t know how our friendship will unfold in the future, but we will always be friends. And I will always be grateful for the lessons he’s taught me, lessons I began to unravel as the sun edged closer to the horizon. But for right now we need to go our separate ways.
After passing the Cliffs of Insanity, I came upon the rough rocks, some black and some swirls of tan, peach and pink. All were jagged and ravaged by the constant pounding of the surf. The tide was out, the urge to continue south strong. For the first time in my life, ever, I trusted my feet enough to lightly and confidently, without hesitation, jump from boulder to platform to boulder, discovering hidden coves screaming From Here to Eternity, as I searched for the perfect rock upon which to sit.
And to sob.
The tears burst forth before I could take my first cleansing breath. Then, like right now, they fell fast. Only now I’m just crying, not hyperventilating. I wanted to scream, When is this going to stop!!?, but I let her rip. For the next 45 minutes, without another soul in sight, I cried on the edge of land, rocky outcroppings to my left, some covered in fog, and miles of arcing beach to my right, ending at a light house far out to sea.
Maybe I just need a good cry.
In between sobs I spoke out words of thanks, so as not to let my tears dilute the absolute gratitude I have for being able to emote, hurt, and ache in such an achingly beautiful place.
This was no pity party. I needed to shed some skin and get real.
It was time to walk. And climb and hop and jump back down, without hesitation, springing forth knowing that the landing will stick. A blue sky made for a navy blue ocean, which made for white-capped waves that looked like snow-capped mountains. My tears flushed out the feelings of angst and sadness, so that I could come away from this return to Limantour with more than just calories burned, but with a better understanding of what’s really going on inside me, what I need and the choices I need to make in the best interests of the dudes and me.
The cliffs didn’t look as muted. Yellow, pink and purple flowers clung to their vertical faces. Bouquets of sea grass and kelp marked the water line, tossed by the hundreds from mermaids far off shore.
It became clear as I headed back north that all these distractions were winning if I was their opponent and the aim to take me off my game, blind me. Some distractions are certainly valid and others chosen by me for their shiny features or how they make me feel. Some are red herrings, designed to keep me from conquering my fears and working thoroughly through sadness and the mourning of the loss of my family.
Some distractions ground me and kill me at the same time.
I never, ever thought I would confess this, but I have wanted to for so very long.
The day I searched for the word LOVE in The Genius’ Skype archives, the day I found out he was having an affair, I made him drive me to the convenience store where I purchased a pack of cigarettes. Since that day, to varying degrees, I have smoked to ground myself. (My Mom is so not happy right now.) Crazy, right? Me. A person who values above all else my ability to shred a mountain or swim across the bay, celebrating those efforts with a big fat drag on a natural cigarette. A woman who needs to summit mountains where the air is so thin even virgin lungs fail to extract enough oxygen to survive.
It was a crutch. A very bad crutch that has caused a great deal of shame within me. Out of all my bad choices this one sits atop the mountain. And beckons all other bad choices to rise up and surround it, making it appear as if it’s throwing a party when it’s really planning a funeral.
One afternoon last week, between fists of dark chocolate, late nights and cigarettes sneaked after the dudes went to bed, the tall dude said, out of the blue, Mommy, do you want to know what I wrote on a post-it at Daddy’s house?
Sure, honey.
Tobacco sucks. I know you don’t like it when I use that word, but it really does.
I froze.
And inside I cried.
Hiding a deadly habit pales in comparison to what my bad choice says to myself. This body, this absolute gift of a human body that fearlessly carries my spirit on this plane, has worked so hard on my behalf and my reward to it is to kill it.
That is why I feel such deep shame. And by the time I passed the path to the parking lot, continuing north to greet the seals, I came to understand that it is also why I feel such sadness. Making bad choices, in this case a choice to light up a cancer stick, provides me with an opportunity to understand why I do the things I do, why I am the way I am.
Quitting is more than just removing toxins from my body. It’s about valuing myself. About living fully present and not allowing distractions to derail me from the internal excavation that is essential to a full and rich life. It’s about loving myself. About valuing myself enough to love myself. About being brave enough to experience this time without crutches.
It’s about being honest and not making choices that need to be hidden.
On Easter Sunday I sent the little dude to his room for sneaking candy after they both promised to not have anymore. They plowed through their baskets like starved ants at an all you can eat picnic, sans humans. I had to pull the plug. His bad choice came with a consequence.
It’s not the candy, honey, it’s the fact that you chose to break your promise and be sneaky.
I’m not breaking my promise. Not the one to quit smoking, the one to love myself fully, the one to make healthy choices even if they don’t feel as good as the naughty ones. And above all, not the one I made to the dudes when I wrapped my hike at Limantour:
I will in every way, with every step, set for you boys the very best example so that you may learn how to live a joyful life, unencumbered.
Thank you, kittens. You walked with me yesterday, a day when I absolutely needed you. Our hike was kicked off by the words of love about my overworked words. I was covering up what really needed to be addressed. Undressed, I am now emptied. Relieved. And headed to the sands of Stinson Beach to celebrate.
I’ll be the one with the ultra red and swollen smiling eyes that can’t contain the joy I feel inside from being honest.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Hey Cleo, when I had my own version of a pocket call almost 3 years ago, like you I spent a good deal of time trying to find who I really was and to connect myself to the real me. Somewhere along the lines, I found new love, stopped grieiving and lost myself again. I stopped doing all those things that helped me cope (yoga, meditation, long walks) because time for me was, and is, so finely stretched with my own three little dudes and my new big dude! I’m still trying to find a way to reconnect and I think that you do to – go swimming, go hiking…listen to the universe. Cleo, you have stopped connecting with you … It may be time for both of us to backtrack! Love you…
A,
Thank you, A. Yes. I have allowed life to intervene with living. This evening I had dinner with the kitten who graciously handled the legal side of the sale of my home. We walked on Stinson Beach (I couldn’t let Limantour have all the love.) beforehand. We talked about a million things, but one point he made really stuck with me. He spoke of meeting the lowest common denominator in a relationship. Meaning, if my love of hiking is a 10 and my boyfriend’s love of hiking is a 3, over time my 10 will become a 3. Of course, in some perfect partnerships the 3 rises to a 10. But more often than not, the 10 wanes, maybe not lowering to a 3, but a descent to 5 is possible.
It’s one of the aspects of being in a relationship that intimidates me. I did that with The Genius. I will not do it again. I won’t turn my back on that which saved me. Ever.
Thank you for being here and for your support, A. So grateful.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Oh Cleo. I am so there with you!
I was, a few years back, one of the super honcho environmental activists, working for one of the biggest organizations.
Then my world fell apart and I RAN to the convenience store and purchased what was to be the first of many many American Spirit Blue packs.
My daughter was absolutely disgusted with me when she caught me. I avoid meeting friends because I know that no matter how hard I try, the stench of these things linger on my clothing and body.
I know that you and I will toss our horrid habits into the sea any day now. Meanwhile, as you say, LOVE YOURSELF.
L,
Same need to ground, same brand. Today is day one, crutch free. I’m just not going to subject myself to that kind of torture anymore. I’m referencing the self-loathing, not the nicotine.
There is no greater catalyst than to make good choices for myself and the dudes. To love myself means that I make good choices. But, I will love who I was 2 weeks ago, 2 months ago, 2 years ago and beyond.
When you are ready I will be there to cheer you on, L. Thank you for being here for me.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Real, raw, naked. Thank you for sharing, you brave, brave lady. Standing ovation and slow-clap sent your way from the Great White North. Oh how I wish I would be back in LV this month so I could buy you a drink. You so deserve it.
And, meant to add, I think it’s safe to say your writing voice is officially back. Nothing forced or over-written in this post. Brava!
N,
Thank you. Feeling the love – and the sweat!
Love yourself,
Cleo
N,
Thank you, love you, owe you. Unfortunately, I had to cancel my trip to Vegas. But a reschedule for sometime soon is in the works.
Thank you for your kind words. Real. Raw. Naked. And so very grateful to have such a wonderful group of souls to support me as I strip down.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Thank you. This was hard to write, I can tell, but necessary for me to hear. You’ve saved me from creeping further down the path of bad choices I’ve been following without even realizing that each individual step was leading me there. I hope that it has helped you half as much as me! Bless you and thank you.
C,
Thank you for taking the time to comment. I needed to write this, as with other posts that ache to come out, because I know I’m not the only one dealing with it. By writing it out I relieve myself of the burden of holding it in, and in some cases shine a light on something that needs to be illuminated for another. I’m grateful my words resonated with you.
The smoking I knew was a mistake right out of the gate. Other choices, like those you allude to making, are sometimes innocent moves made to feel better…leading to feeling much, much worse.
Life is school. Sometimes school is super complicated and not just because of the class work.
This was a hard one to get out…lots of tears. Thank you for acknowledging that. And for being here, C.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Wish you were closer ( it,s stinky cold and no spring in the sight overhere) so I could give you a real hug…but Ill give you a huge virtual one and I promise that every little thing its going to be alright.
Listen here and love yourself. Doubts and all…and go,go,go so many exciting adventures are waiting…I know it, I feel it !
http://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_on_vulnerability.html
Bear hugs
xoxo
S
S,
Thank you so much, m’lady. It already feels so much better. I’ve been honest and vulnerable about everything but that and it was killing me to not lay it out like I have every other flaw. Doing so relieved me of my attachment to that coping mechanism.
Nature is my coping mechanism. We are rewarded for being brave, so I’ll be sure to look for the magic all around me. I’m wiped out, split open, and ready for tomorrow. Which will start on the beach and end with the dudes in my arms.
I’m grateful to have you here, S.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Remember when I said don’t lie to your kids? Yep, that sh*t comes back to you. Tall dude didn’t say that thing about tobacco out of nowhere. Don’t do it again. Next time will be worse. I don’t want you to get hurt. I feel like you’re my family.
N,
Thank you for taking the time to comment and for caring so much. I feel the same way about all of you and value your guidance and support. I don’t want to half-ass (sorry, Mom!) this thing. I’m grateful for the opportunity to write and to share and to hopefully provide a guide for those dealing with the brutal challenges of betrayal and divorce. Self-destructive behaviors – whatever they may be – are no way to love yourself.
So grateful for your support, N. Thank you.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Oh what a beautiful post Cleo… Though I have not commented in awhile I have been reading faithfully. Your experiences and my own remind me that this journey is still about peaks and valleys. My heart was aching with yours on the beach but I ended the post with excitement for what lies ahead. You are ready for the next upswing. Thanks, as always, for sharing ….
p.s. – Is that your beautiful head of hair on the beach?
M,
Thank you for your ultra kind words. Yes, that’s my head with hair like Cousin It!
M, you are spot on – the Upswing. I imagine the Universe, bag full of magic in hand, saying, It’s a shame we can’t dump this on Cleo. But why reward bad behavior?
It’s the same thing I tell the dudes. So many parallels. As with unconditional love, I can’t partially love myself. It’s got to be all in or I might as well go live some hedonistic lifestyle until it takes my breath away for good. The one thing I know for sure is that the emotional and psychological damage caused by smoking was way more devastating than the physical damage.
I am so raw. But so happy. Thank you for taking the time to comment.
Love yourself,
Cleo
You mentioned in one of the comments here that you don’t want to do this “half-assed,” but please, please, please don’t do it perfectly either. This is really tough stuff you’re dealing with… hell, we’re dealing with. I’m going to say that sometimes bad choices are the best things we can do for ourselves at a particular moment in time. You’re almost there. Really.
S,
Thank you for taking the time to comment and for your guidance. I feel a great desire to do my absolute very best so that I can be proud, but I am also motivated to do my best so that I can figure out ways to make this process less painful, easier to navigate and full of opportunity for anyone who is dealing with divorce and betrayal.
As you so intuitively noted, the bad decisions we make often strip away the layers of denial so we absolutely must deal with something we’ve been avoiding for a long time. For me, the smoking was a way to make myself feel good because I haven’t figured out how to make myself feel good (outside of hiking and swimming) without the crutch.
For the first time in a long time I’ve been wanting to head to bed early and read a book. Doors will fly open now that I’m not shutting them so I can puff away in secret.
I believe you. I’m almost there. Just like the last steps off Mt. Whitney were the hardest of the climb, so will these last steps. But I’m almost there. SO excited!! Thank you for being here. So grateful for your presence.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Hi Cleo,
Been a while since I’ve written, but I look forward to every post. As I’ve said before, it’s been almost eight years since my Pocket Call (or Super-Duper E-mail) between my (former) best friend and My Genius. I too took a great deal of time and energy to rediscover myself and connect with nature. In the first year or two, post separation, I spent much of my focus on my children (three of them) and healing myself. I have since remarried, gone back to work and become a mother to two more children. There were a couple of things you brought up in this post that brought up thoughts I wanted to share with you.
I know you worry about maintaining the ability to care for and nurture yourself as you move through this process. My experience was that I did spend much of that first year doing everything I needed to do to understand and heal myself. That said, as life moved on and the focus of my life moved away from my divorce and toward simply living my life, it was alright to spend less time on this. Meaning that I did less reflection and searching inside myself because I was beginning to live my life in a bigger world. That doesn’t mean you lose sight of those things that make you Cleo, just that you don’t need to feel guilty of letting living your life (moving, unpacking boxes, learning to deal with that CRAZY drive from Stinson to Mill Valley!) sidetrack your self-maintaince. That happens in life, when you are living it, it spills over and gets in the way of other parts. You will get back on track, maybe a new track, but you will get there.
Also, you have mentioned that The Genius can be rather negative (abusive) when you talk to him. I find this to be true with My Genius as well. Funny, he did not want to be married to me, but once I remarried, got a job and no longer had HIM as the focus of my life, he gets so irritated that I do not jump when he calls (I teach middle school, picture answering the phone with 25 eighth graders in the room!) Given how incredibly rude he is when he speaks to me and given the fact that it still bothers me, I have chosen to no longer have conversations with him. I can’t trust him to treat me with respect when he speaks to me, which is sad, but I cannot change it. With technology, everything needed to be communicated can be done via e-mail or text (that way there is also a record of what he said!). I wish this was not the way it has become, but I had to go this way to ensure I maintained my boundaries and protect myself from verbal abuse. The guideline I use, in my head, is that if he is saying things to me that he would not say if his mother were present, then it is probably not treating me with respect. Since there were so many conversations that were without respect, I realized we just couldn’t have conversations. Not telling you how to do it, just suggesting an option. You may say that is not realistic with kids, I will say it is and it is quite doable.
Finally, I am SO impressed that you wrote about your struggle with smoking! What an incredibly brave way to face your demon. You are correct of course, it does seem to be completely counter to your love of nature and love of self. My hope is you love yourself enough to continue to fight the lure of nicotine. From what I know of you, your willingness to share about this will help. Please keep us posted on your progress, I know you can conquer this challenge too. Like climbing a mountain, not a smooth upward trajectory, many small peaks followed by little dips and setbacks, but overall you can get to the top.
Thank you for all you do for your Kittens. We appreciate your sharing your journey with us.
Sent with love from the East Bay,
Ruby
R,
And the love flows back east from the west. Thank you for taking the time to comment and with such words of wisdom – so supportive. Yes, it is sad that TG and I can no longer communicate, but it’s what is in the best interests of all involved. No matter how hurtful words may be, I am still so grateful to be fully present in this experience. Daily, I am learning more about myself, my past, my inclinations and how to transform it all into a magical present time.
The move to Bolinas has created space. Space for me to simply be, and space between me and TG. Email works perfectly for what we need to accomplish as co-parents. My heart and mind are ready to stand firm with my boundaries. And every time I make a good choice I am rewarded. I feel more grounded and see more clearly each day. Now, as you pointed out, one day may have me walking backwards, but the trail is always easier to traverse when the terrain is known. So, speed back to where I was, and off I go again, forward. The kittens and me, hugging the coast as we make our way.
I am so grateful to be here with all of you.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Cleo congratulations on your courage and truth-telling. It is the answer.
I’ve written just a time or two before, and today I feel moved again. I’m on a parallel path, dealing with very similar circumstances. the past month i have forced myself to do things i did not think possible to preserve my sanity. i have learned two things i want to share: (1) You do not need to expose yourself to the emotional abuse you are continuing to endure. You have the right to put more space between yourself and the genius and I encourage you to begin. He does not have the right to insult you, or to call you “pet” names. He needs to treat you with the common civility that I hope he reserves for acquaintances. Just logistics please, no commentary. My life got much easier when i blocked texts and calls to my cell phone and refused to talk face to face with the genius in my life. You can ask for communication by email only, curbside drop offs where he does not get out of the car, whatever protects you best. If you are anything like me insisting on civility and respect for boundaries will be terrifying. But the payoff, ultimately, has been huge for me. I am no longer at the mercy of his bad manners and poor impulse control. Also, this could be off base, but just in case (2) pick up a book by Beverly engel. Just to see if it helps you get emotional traction.
You are still being violated. You have rights, including the right to live in peace without harassment by someone who has already done enough damage. He is not entitled to one more minute of access to or control over your emotional life.
Hope this helps. I am in your corner.
D,
Thank you for taking the time to share your guidance with me. With all of us. I am taking your advice and not looking back. There is nothing to gain and so much ground to lose. It’s sad. Despite the lies and betrayal, I wanted to craft a cordial relationship that helps the boys to have a peaceful childhood. What I am now realizing is that isn’t part of the game plan and forcing it to be is only a recipe for disaster. As Mr. Simplicity says, LET GO!
I tried. I’m done trying. I have an amazing relationship with the dudes, and now that I’m not being disrespectful of their need to have a healthy Mom for the next several decades, I feel stronger, more certain of my decisions, and more grounded! As the tall dude would say, How refreshing!
It’s mind-boggling to me how it took until yesterday to realize that I am not meant to have any contact with him. Perhaps if he seeks therapy we will one day be able to speak to each other, but for now I am protecting myself, shielding myself from interactions that are destructive because I VALUE MYSELF! He’s no different today than he was four years ago. And we all know what he was doing then, with total ease.
As Ryan Seacrest says (does he still say that?), I’m out. Out of that madness, out of the closet on my smoking (I am now a former smoker), and out to make magic.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Hello, I haven’t commented to you in awhile but wanted to let you know that I comment about you all the time! You continue to be an inspiration to me and have really helped me value myself more then I every would have had it not been for you!
Rylan
R,
You gorgeous being, thank you. I value you like spun gold, water in the Sahara, dark chocolate and sea salt! You are a gift, R. With a very important reason for being. I’m so grateful you share yourself with us.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Oh, sister, I hope you left that shame on the beach to float out to sea. It doesn’t nourish you. Hooray – you’re human and I’m human and all the kittens are too – and we make conscious and not so conscious choices every day, and some are better than others. And as you are re-affirming for yourself, there’s a lot of power to intention in shifting a not as great choice into a really positive one. Can you hear all of the cheering and support for you?!
Also, I love this line: “Optimism is at the foundation of a joyful life, but optimism without awareness is the blindfold that shields the eyes from acknowledging a precarious position.” Shine on, Cleo. Welcome to Spring!
L,
You are so very right! By being brave enough to be honest (about something that many would not blink an eye at, but the internal criticism and self-loathing is what matters, what’s so very destructive) I have received such support, strength and love. Exactly what you gorgeous kittens have done all along. If I was still in hiding I’d still be doing it.
One step out of the shadows and into the light and voila – love, joy, happiness. I’m more relaxed than I’ve been in weeks. It wasn’t the smoking that was the problem, it was living a lie. Not exclusively a public lie, but a private one, a personal lie. I can’t tell the dudes to take care of their body if I’m not taking are of mine. I can’t tell them the virtues of being honest if I am lying – to them or myself, or to another. I can’t ask you to love yourself if I am not loving myself. Well, I can do all of those things, but that’s where the angst and discomfort and dis-ease come in to play.
Many people are cranky when they quit smoking – I am jubilant. It was killing me. And I am not referencing the physical destruction. It was what it did to my heart that was killing me. My soul. My spirit.
Thank you for being here. I am so grateful for your support. You rock, L.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Just finding this blog for the first time today. The genesis of your story so much parallels my own — as I unexpectedly found out about my now ex-husband’s four-year secret life and unending string of lies: all from the person whom I thought was the most honorable guy I’d ever met. I count that day the beginning of my real life. Thanks for writing this monumental blog — I know I’ll be returning to it many times!
R,
I’m so grateful you found HGM. Thank you for your kind words and for taking the time to comment.
That day, for us, is our second birthday. Just think – two days a year to celebrate! I hadn’t looked at it that way before, but I’m already making plans for September!
Stay close…
Love yourself,
Cleo
As a REALTOR (R) I haven’t read the other comments. (I’m a fan of full disclosure.)
Thanks for coming clean as human, fallible, and vulnerable. I’m happy to see you’re so much like your kittens. For a long time I thought you were of Elevated Status, i.e., one who was considerably more evolved than the rest of the kittens. Welcome to our (addicted to something) world. You’re in good company.
Love yourself, girl.
D,
I’m as human as they make ‘em. Have you not paid attention?
I’m actually trying to avoid perfection because it is then that the big hand descends and muzzles me forever, ending my journey on here. That’s my theory, anyway.
I’m grateful you took the time to say this. I often wonder if you all roll your eyes at me as I fall, get up, stumble, get up, fail, get up…all the while saying, When is she going to figure this out or is this just a writer’s attempt at creating material?
This is just me in all my imperfect, stretch marked glory. It’s going to take forever to get this s…tuff right. Forever. But that’s what life’s for, and death is graduation. Stay close, D.
Love yourself,
Cleo
No eye rolling. We’re walking that road with you and cheering each other on, just like we would at any other marathon.
D,
So grateful to have you here to high five. I am making better choices each day. Again, apologies for the delay in responding. Summer, summer, summer…;-)
Love yourself,
Cleo
I love Russell Brand – almost too much! Even though the hardest thing I quit was coffee – 7 months ago – god I could REALLY use a cup right now . . . I have been reading this over and over almost since it was posted.
“Drugs and alcohol are not my problem, reality is my problem, drugs and alcohol are my solution.”
In all of our day-to-day challenges, reality is the problem and we reach for things to help get us through our day. It is about training yourself to reach for the right things . . . in his case, a good friend.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/culture/2013/mar/09/russell-brand-life-without-drugs
A,
Hilarious. I haven’t been exposed to him much, but count me a fan now! Great comment. Thank you for sharing this with me. Maybe we can get him to appear at an HGMfest!
All of the sudden he looks a lot hotter to me… Then again, given my hormones and the lack of action, a white-washed wall looks pretty hot right now.
Thank you for being here, A. You rock.
Love yourself,
Cleo
So many new revelations and renewed promises from that one walk. The calories you burned were one step for your health, the quitting cigs another. Mentally letting yourself weep and feel the sorrow and fear of your new life is yet another. Don’t be too hard on yourself for the confusion of the last months. Don’t expect all your choices will be for the greater good. One thing I’ve learned as a single mom of two impressionable girls is I will make mistakes. Choices that seemed right at the time, but later reveal to be catastrophic fails. My girls are watching me. If I acknowledge the failures and explain what I learned from them, they will not be disappointed in dear ole Mom. And it will teach them to do the same. We talk A LOT in our home. Luckily its not just me doing the talking. They are thoughtful and unafraid to delve into a problem with my guidance to aid them in their own solution. If your Dudes see you screw up, don’t hide! They need to know you are human and still learning. I am betting they don’t get lessons like that at Dad’s, so go for broke with them. You are doing swell as it is, so this kitten isn’t worried.
T,
Thank you for taking the time to comment and for your support, wisdom, guidance and love. I’m so grateful.
I left so much on that beach I expect to receive a ticket for illegal dumping.
After spilling my soul here, again, I sat down with the tall dude and told him I was not truthful with him. (being evasive is deceptive, being deceptive is deceitful, being deceitful is lying) He cried. I cried. And our bond grew and grew. We will remember that day forever. He knows how much I value him and how important it is for me to be respected by him. I’m hopeful that by being honest with him, he will feel comfortable being honest with me in the future when he stumbles, loses his way. I will always light the lantern for him.
Thank you, T. So grateful you are here.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Oh Cleo. This post wrenched my heart. But by the end I felt uplifted and hopeful. Addiction is a crutch. You can and will get the mastery over it. Voicing your position and making up your mind about it once and for all is half the battle. I know the self loathing and cornucopia of emotional trauma that accompanies this type of behavior from personal experience. It’s all one big can of worms – the betrayal, your pain, the smoking – it’s a vicious cycle of pain and self destructive behavior. But you have broken the cycle. I know you will never go back. You can do it! This kitten, and I’m sure all the rest out there too, send you hugs, love and support. <3
L,
Thank you so much for being here and for your hugs, love and support. Let’s hope it’s enough to keep me on my path or you all might have to move in!
All this being brave and vulnerable and open can’t be tied down, stunted, buried under a vice. What a waste of energy! I want to be happy and free, not happy, free and shamed. I’m shaking my head in admiration at the complexity of life – video game creators worldwide are pre-schoolers compared to the architects of human experiences on this planet.
The other night a kitten said, What we are experiencing is like 3D chess. He is SO right. It’s unbelievably challenging. Hard to believe I’m saying this, but I’m grateful for the challenge. I suppose it’s a vote of confidence from the Universe. I can handle it, bring it home, fry it up and spin it into gold.
Onward. Stay close. You rock.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Cleo! You are soooo human!!! WELCOME!
So I gotta tell you, I quit two years ago and had many of the same feelings about smoking as you. I feel you mama!. Quitting means that each day that you don’t smoke is another day where you chose to love yourself the right way. I cried a few times in the first two weeks of quitting because I felt like I was lonely. The cigs were always there to listen to me, to steal away with. But you know? Every time I smoked I created an barrier. It wasn’t about freedom anymore, it had become my chains. Please stay true to yourself, go easy on yourself, give yourself all the encouragement you can. I’m rooting for you, and I know a lot of your readers are too. Also, the sense of accomplishment I feel for myself after quitting has only mounted more and more, and not to be cliche…but it really does get so much better and so much easier (the not smoking…life, who the hell knows.)
All the best to you on this next step on your grand life journey!
M,
Yes, contrary to the belief of some, I am of this planet. (TG may think I come from Hell, but I was actually born in Jersey.)
You describe the cigarette so perfectly – a friend you turn to, steal away with, use to avoid dealing with what awaits. I’m not lonely at night when one is there to be had. When, in fact, I’m not alone ever and would rather ease loneliness with someone much more appealing than a cigarette. They are grounding – that’s the native American way of seeing them. The ritual of smoking is a grounding one, but now I am ready to ground myself with my own breath, desire and love.
Thank you for your support and cheers for success! I will succeed! I am so grateful for your support and care. I feel like a Faberge egg being carried around in the soft paws of so many beautiful creatures. I just adore you all. Thank you, M. You rock.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Please !! Life isn’t complicated until you make it complicated!! Stop!! Stop being so hard in yourself!! Stop making his comments make you look deeper in yourself – just live the beautiful person you are !! You just gotta wake up & be you!! You don’t have to wake up & have an agenda of change everyday you are doing awesome just the way you are!! For Christ sake take some time & revel !! YOU are awesome! Relax & see yourself as we see you !! I love you girl !!
C,
First, it’s salmon season here. Just had to say it. Get your freaking fishing pole and get out here. Second, you are so sweet. I don’t know that I’ll ever stop seeking and going deeper. For a few reasons, it’s my absolute calling. But, I promise to be gentle with myself. Rest assured, I spend as much time excavating within as I do being grateful. And when I’m being grateful it is the bestreveling I do. I soak in the beauty of life and blow kisses back in gratitude.
Especially when my line gets hit. But it’s up to me to land it. Thank you for your kind words of east coast support. LOVE it! And you.
Love yourself,
Cleo
I too have been known to smoke a cigarette especially after something stressful. (Cloves, yummy!) We all need something. Frankly Im amazed youre coping as well as you seem to be. After all youve been through I think you deserve a cigarette and a big ole glass of wine. Be gentle with yourself.
L,
Thank you for taking the time to comment. Oh, my – clove cigarettes! I remember smelling them at the mall! Of course…the mall…how east coast of me.
I am doing well because of the support I receive from far and wide, to include being held in the hands of nature. I may never find the words to accurately describe how much you all have helped me to find peace and happiness. I am so grateful to have you in my life.
The real issue with cigarettes, besides the whole toxic thing, is that I wasn’t being honest with myself and those around me. And the act itself isn’t showing love for myself. That said, it is very grounding, and being grounded – which I will talk about in an upcoming post – is essential. So I will learn to ground in a more healthy manner. Just coming clean was SO healing!
Thank you for reminding me that being gentle with myself and others is a GREAT way to ground. You rock.
Love yourself,
Cleo
give yourself a break. This is a marathon, not a sprint. I did the same thing during my own multi-year, heinous divorce, then I just stopped. You will too.
C,
Thank you! Break given. Breath taken. Feeling the love.
Love yourself,
Cleo
I have to say, your admission of clandestine smoking humanizes you more to me than anything else you’ve ever said. Your writing can be a bit…hyperbolic at times.
I wish you and your boys all the best in Bolinas. It looks like a beautiful place to live and thrive. I am looking forward to moving to my own version of Bolinas in the next couple of years.
S,
It is beautiful, and quite wild. Naively, I didn’t consider how just a handful of miles west would mean a world away. At least as far as critters are concerned!
Hyperbolic…I confess I had to look it up to be sure. I must also confess, I am so freaking human. I’m just experimenting like mad. Stuffing my fears away and doing my best to nail this. Which is a dangerous way to go about healing. You know how tech geeks get all fired up about the latest gadget? I am eternally fired up about life. So, it’s not my writing that’s hyperbolic, but me. Because I only write what I feel. I hope if you have to cringe, it’s followed by a laugh.
Thank you, S, for taking the time to comment and for making me feel safe enough to be honest. Best gift ever.
Love yourself,
Cleo
I’m still weeks behind in reading the posts, but it seems that works out perfectly for where I’m at (I needed this one today to teach me that it’s OK to have a bad day even 20 months out, that there are peaks and valleys as someone said here).
Oh Cleo – I completely get the bad, unhealthy choices. I would bet all of us in this situation have done some of that. When your world is in full blown anarchy the path to love yourself has land mines. You are human. You felt what it brought to you, grieved for what it meant, made a decision and moved on. CONGRATULATIONS!!!
I’m so glad you came clean for yourself and your dudes. You owe us nothing but I think writing about it will have a positive ripple affect for you and many, many others who view this blog as a lifeline (as I do).
One more comment: a previous post talked about something TG said. He didn’t tell you because you had just had a baby. Attn TG: First off, BS. It was a coward move. Second, rather than not telling your lovely wife who just gave birth to your second child that you were in an inappropriate relationship, how about NOT DOING IT? How about finding a shred of integrity and realizing that ego doesn’t have to run the show?
Too late for all that now. I just hope he gets his anger under control because it’s not good for the dudes even if they don’t directly see it. Anger almost always = pain. Unfortunately he is the cause of the pain he’s feeling and could have so easily prevented it.
Pulling for you and all of us out here daily Cleo. Thank you for continuing to write. It really is helping so many.
D,
Thank you so much for your words. This comment, made a few weeks back, was meant for me to read today. Now I understand the role that the Ego plays in our world. I’ve fired it as the star and now it sits outside the stage door hoping to sneak back in, but my body guards (AKA boundaries) will see to it that it remains outside. **”How about finding a shred of integrity and realizing that ego doesn’t have to run the show?”
The reasons given by those who betray their spouses are red herrings. Words misused to deflect blame. To prolong their own realizations about their own challenges, pain, anger, Ego. I had nothing to do with choices made by The Genius. Then or now. Nothing.
As I am known to say – Have conversations, not affairs.
D, I am so grateful you found HGM. Thank you for being here.
Love yourself,
Cleo