So, Mr. Jackpot did not conspire to end my days in the midst of the redwoods, but he did take me to Devil’s Churn, where I surely could have met my death had a rogue wave chosen to engulf me and drag me to sea. I’d fit right in with the mermaids. That is until the sea water bloated my body beyond recognition and my extremities turned blue. Then I’d be just another dumb landlubber with questionable balance who got too close to the water’s edge at the exact wrong time.
Devil’s Churn sits just south of the town of Yachats. Black lava rock stretches out to the sea in a deep and narrow ‘U’ shape, creating a gorge where the water rushes in to fill the void. The outgoing surge meets the incoming waves like boys high-fiving each other after braving the most rambunctious roller coaster known to man, rushing to get to the end of line to do it all over again.
The most remarkable thing about Devil’s Churn is the sound the rocks that fill up the gorge, to some unknown depth, make when the young boys retreat en masse. It’s the most grounding sound I’ve ever heard. Earthy, guttural, like the blue marble’s version of white noise. I didn’t even notice it at first. It was lost in the sound of the waves crashing relentlessly over the shelves of lava upon which I stood. But once Mr. Jackpot pointed it out, Devil’s Churn had a voice. And it was speaking to me.
Which was a good thing, because Mr. Jackpot was not. Not much, anyway. I could chalk that up to the need to unwind after a marathon sprint at work, but it was something more. Something deeper. For me, I couldn’t shake the feeling I had when he arrived to pick me up. I sensed he didn’t want to go. As if it was an obligation. Or maybe, as some have suggested here, he was ‘punishing’ me for altering the plans. Whatever it was that had him near mute on our departure, it didn’t make me feel all that welcome. And he didn’t lighten up much. Even after discovering the Madrone tree or witnessing the eclipse.
I felt disoriented. It was only a couple weeks ago that we were laughing while he pointed out stars or a planet, and now if felt like an obligation, or maybe just being done out of habit. But certainly not for the joy of sharing. We had our moments, like the night we took a walk along the beach and sat on a piece of driftwood, watching the fog roll in. (In Oregon, a piece of driftwood is usually something just shy of the whole freaking tree.) It was fun, splashing in tidal pools and spying on clusters of tiny birds playing in the surf. But you’d have to be dead to not feel the disconnect. I needed to understand why this shift had occurred. I won’t leave you on the cliff with this one…I still don’t understand why.
I spent the vast majority of my waking hours deep inside myself. (That started from the moment we left. I certainly contributed my fair share to the disconnect.) I felt the need to really center myself and not get caught up in the wanting to fix Mr. Jackpot’s mood or control the outcome. I just wanted to let it unfold as it may and not judge it. While I was inside myself, I did a little digging. How do I feel? What morsels of enlightenment and wisdom are hiding in the sand, waiting for my rain boots to kick them up so I can catch them in my wet hands and tuck them away to read later, by the fire? The past three days have, by nature’s standards, been mind-blowing. Why is our interaction so, well, not mind-blowing? Why is it so uncomfortable? So different from what it’s always been?
The eclipse was all about alignment. The Madrone tree was about grounding. Devil’s Churn was all about balance. The Universe wasn’t scrimping on the metaphors for me. I reminded myself over and over to remain centered and to see, with eyes wide open, all that was being placed in front of me. To be on this coast, trying to absorb the beauty of its emerald green forests collapsing on a near-black sand beach pounded by the grey waves of an excitable sea, was to be in the perfect place to experience human disconnection. I just needed to remain connected to the blue marble and everything would be fine. I knew before we departed that this trip would be intense. My intuition did not disappoint me.
It was to be as we all expected. Mr. Jackpot and I went on a holiday alone. Each of us, alone. We just happened to be together. Our interaction was different because we weren’t supposed to be interacting much. We were there to stir up stuff in each other. By not actually being alone we had the opportunity to throw the wrinkle of an encounter into the soul-searching mix. (I’m going to write a post on why I believe you should have encounters with people with whom you may become romantically involved as soon as you can handle it. Remind me…please…) But it was clear to me. We were both there to deal individually with our s…tuff. And no magical night of stargazing was going to get in the way of that.
The next day, after sleeping in (so luxurious!), I awoke to the crackling of a fire and the smell of coffee. Mr. Jackpot makes some mighty fine jet fuel. With a dead SIM card, and no Apple store for miles and miles, I booted up my computer to get my first Yachats post up and to check in on email.
Oh, look! One from The Genius. Joy.
I read HGM. I am not ok with this.
I smiled. Life is spicy. Could it be any more perfect that I’m enveloped in the powerful arms of nature when this went down? I was more grateful than an arachnid who snagged two flies mating after weaving only half a web.
So much for agreeing to not read the blog.
Anyone surprised by this? I thought not…
He asked that I remove him, his family, the boys and The Happy Dance Chick from the blog and any promotional materials. Any what? Promotional materials? What do you think I’m doing? Handing out flyers at the 7-11? Promotional materials? Dude. Seriously?
I am writing about my life. I’ll remove the car rental reference and the reference to your family’s track record of infidelity, but I’m writing the blog.
(BTW, both of those references are true, as is every single word I’ve typed over the last several months.)
So, you delicious, amazing, supportive, hilarious, wisdom-filled super gaggle of loyal readers, we have a new reader to welcome to HGM. And guess what? It won’t change what I write or how I write in the least bit. Because it’s not about him. Or his family. And I think The Happy Dance Chick has taken up about 100 words out of 30,000, so it’s safe to say she’s barely a blip. It’s not about any of them. It’s about me. It’s about how I am navigating betrayal and divorce, working in tandem with the Universe to create magic out of muck. It’s about all of you. How you have been drawn here, grabbed a cushion and settled in to hold my hand as this tale unfolds.
And it will continue to unfold. I hope one day you will say, “Remember when she used to talk about The Genius?”
So there I sit, at a dining room table in a rented house in Yachats, with Mr. Jackpot playing some ridiculously hard video game that only Mensa kittens can navigate while laying on the couch, a fire in the fireplace, the rain beating the window, the waves doing what waves do so well, and the knowledge that every word I’ve written here has been read by The Genius himself.
So I got some more coffee and went out to the deck to breath. And to check in and see how I was doing inside.
I have to admit, I was flat out surprised by what I discovered.
Love yourself,
Cleo
I’m proud to hear your response to Mr. JP’s strange mood – not try to fix it, let it happen. Very good, very mature, and also, the only thing to do. I’m glad you can still enjoy yourself, you are turning into a superstar. People sometimes say [insert tragedy here] was “the best thing that ever happened” to them, and this tragedy is at least giving you huge opportunities for self-learning and letting go, and all that wonderful stuff you are so good at articulating.
As for your ex-husband, while I understand his shock at seeing the effects of his actions articulated so well, you have been very careful not to identify him or his family, or rent-a-car lady. No one could know who they are, unless they know you. They did what they did, and now they don’t want someone talking about them anonymously. Sorta too bad, methinks!
C,
Thank you for your kind words. I am discovering how essential it is to let others take responsibility for their life and to not attempt to force upon them a solution that might seem obvious to me. Up until recently, I hadn’t realized how intrusive and, quite frankly, wrong it is to try and ‘fix’ someone when they haven’t asked for it. To do so means I’ve decided they need fixing, which is judgmental, and that I’m the one to do it. Clearly, I have my own stuff to work through.
That said, I do believe I could have been more successful at creating an environment that Mr. Jackpot felt safe enough to emote in. I wish I had done that. He is such a wonderful soul. It hurts to see him sad, stressed out. I feel like my role was to stir things up for him, and that isn’t satisfying at first blush. But if it helps him find joy in his life than mission accomplished.
I’ll be okay with that.
There have been more than a few comments on HGM about ‘owning your stuff’. All of this heartache could have been avoided had The Genius sat down with me and said, “I’m not happy.” That simple. Then, if we couldn’t repair our relationship, we part with mutual respect for each other. Instead, I look at someone who lied to his family for four years, and say:
You were ballsy enough to walk around with The Happy Dance Chick as if you were married to her, being deceitful to two families and toying with the lives of your spouses and children. Now that the jig is up OWN IT. HGM is not about trashing The Genius, The Family Genius or The Happy Dance Chick. I don’t have it in me to trash them. This blog is about me. And healing. Finding a different way to move through betrayal and divorce, which has reached epidemic status on the blue marble. Finding a way to still be able to laugh and grow and enjoy life. Honestly, why not just own what you did? Say, yea. That’s me. I did that. And now I’ll pick up the pieces and move on. If it wasn’t a big deal for you to do it in the first place, why is it a big deal to hide it now?
We all know the answer to that question…
Love yourself,
Cleo
May I make a comment to The Genius, The Family Genius, and Happy Dance Girl? When you choose to betray people to whom you promised fidelity, including your children, then you’ve involved them in your deceit. You cannot expect to control what they do with that information and you shouldn’t expect the someone you betrayed to shield you from the consequences. Being offended by Cleo’s blog speaks volumes about your self-centeredness. Make no mistake – you did this to yourselves. She is allowed to do with this experience that you’ve thrust upon her anything SHE chooses. Simply, if you hadn’t lied, this blog would not exist. So, thanks for that!
S,
Yes, m’lady, you may.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Spicy is a great word. Makes things exciting. I just didn’t think it would take him this long.
B,
I thought of your comment on twitter when I received his email. I didn’t think it would take this long either, but a little part of me hoped he would just leave it be. Maybe now he has some idea of how I feel…not that it affects things much. Except, perhaps, to make it more challenging to deal with him.
So, I soften my gaze, bring a smile to my face and remain supremely grateful for the support here at HGM and for my life, as it is, right here, right now. Making it spicy…
Love yourself,
Cleo
Communication. So many hurt feelings and wasted time could be saved if people would just communicate with each other. I’ve found that by being honest with myself and the people I care about, and opening myself up to vulnerability for the sake of being honest, I’ve wasted a lot less time worrying and wondering the answers to those “what if” questions.
It’s true what Claire says about tragedies/betrayals being the best experience for some people. Well, maybe “best” isn’t quite the appropriate description. More like “very effective method of maturation and self-growth.” But only if you rise to the occasion, and apparently, you are.
Your journey into the unknown is both painful and empowering to read. Thank you for sharing it with us. I can only hope that some day, The Genius can look past himself, re-read the blog, and do some growing up of his own.
C,
Thank you for being here and taking the time to comment. I’m going to write more about communication in tomorrow’s post. I struggled so much with communication these past few days, but I did make some progress. Little, teeny bits of progress that required so much energy to pull off! It’s no wonder we fold and just walk away from challenging interactions. Thanks to all of you and your (imposed by me) requirement that I not cut corners or BS in any way, I am figuring it out.
Step by step. Tear by tear. Laugh by laugh. Red zin by cab by malbec, by dark chocolate almond bark by margarita by…actually via a pretty healthy and balanced approach to life, some amazing herbs, great friends and a genuine desire to rock the hell out of my journey here on the blue marble. Which isn’t to say that wine and chocolate aren’t essential. Because to me they are. As is kissing. And being the right kind of scared.
But nothing beats being vulnerable. Nothing.
I’m so grateful you took the time to comment. Means the world to me.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Cleo,
Congratulations on being rid of The Genius (I know it’s not official yet, but it’s clear you are emotionally rid of him). He certainly deserves the moniker. Destroying your family was not a problem for him, but you blogging about it anonymously is somehow over the line. Okaaay…interesting set of priorities.
As for your insights on Mr. J, I am awed by your awareness and ability to check yourself in those moments of doubt and fear and not let yourself be carried away by your ego.
Hugs,
AG
A,
You hit the nail, m’lady. I am (nearly) emotionally free of The Genius. He will remain in my world as the father of our children. And I will do everything I can to insure that our co-parenting relationship is supportive to them. Even though sometimes I wish he would vanish. It will all work out as we find our rhythm. (OMG. For the first time ever in the history of my life I just spelled the word rhythm without having to look it up. I am stunned and amazed.)
I’m still digesting the experience with Mr. Jackpot. I have not yet gotten to the heart of what happened in Yachats. I’m hoping to gain more insight tonight as I stare at the moon and meditate.
Takes hugs, squeezes them, clones them. Thank you, A. Love you. Owe you.
Love yourself,
Cleo
“If it wasn’t a big deal for you to do it in the first place, why is it a big deal to hide it now?”
THIS. Perfect. Exactly. I’d love to see him squirm and try to answer that one.
You’re doing a great thing, Cleo.
C,
Thank you, C. sometimes I feel like I’m walking across a ladder in the Khumbu icefall on Everest without a net, wearing flip flops. You know what? It’s totally okay. I trust in my center. But next time I’ll wear heels. And I’ll OWN it.
I bet it wouldn’t surprise you to find that The Genius would have an answer for the question. It just wouldn’t make sense to you and me.
Love yourself,
Cleo
I am in love with the fact that you continuously refuse to ignore nature’s physical manifestations of your emotions, like the eclipse or Devil’s Churn. I do not think they are merely coincidences. People less willing to look within wouldn’t notice those meaningful and informative signs outside.
It’s really beautiful to see you taking note of nature’s cues and what they mean for your life.
J,
Thank you for taking the time to comment and for being here. I agree – there are no coincidences for me. I just don’t buy it. Now, when I die, if the lights stay out and nothing happens, well then so be it. Joke’s on me. But I sure don’t want to miss all the fun of finding the threads and weaving them together into a life of joy because it seemed too off-the-wall that the eclipse could have any affect at all on little old me.
When nature speaks, I listen. Nothing, and I do mean nothing, makes me feel as balanced, centered, fearless and free as laying on the blue marble or hugging a redwood or watching my feet disappear in the sand as the water retreats out to sea. My challenge is to carry that feeling with me indoors.
The more grateful I am for the support I receive from nature the more support I receive from nature. I swear, sometimes the simplicity of it all is unnerving. Can living a life of joy really be as simple as choosing to do so?
More to ponder…
Love yourself,
Cleo
I am sitting, really thinking about all of this (this is what your writings have done to me – I am much more contemplative than I was before…it is a good thing), and these are my thoughts.
I can understand The Genius’ POV here – he doesn’t want people seeing the ‘innards’ of ‘his’ life – but only to a point. However, the thing that my mama taught me was this – “There Are No Secrets. Ever.” She taught me this when I was a teenager and it is something that I do believe in now. Eventually, everything comes out, one way or another.
With that in mind, I think it is quite unreasonable and quite controlling of him, to expect you to NEVER speak about him/THDC/his life/his family/etc. Especially when you have done a lot to keep identities out of this since it isn’t about trashing The Genius or The Happy Dance Chick. This isn’t about him, even though he does play a part in this. This isn’t his “show”, even though he is an actor on the stage.
The whole point of this blog, or rather, what I have been thinking it was, is a way for YOU to grow. A way for YOU to feel all of the emotions involved in this chapter of your life. Not The Genius.
Tam
T,
My mama, too. Her line is, The truth will always out. And she is so very right. Humans tend to fight this tooth and nail, but honesty is the best policy. And life isn’t complicated until we, ourselves, complicate it. I freaking LOVE cliches.
HGM is about growth and healing and finding refreshing and productive ways of dealing with betrayal and divorce, heartache and pain. I’ve learned so much from all of you. Interestingly, he didn’t mention the beautiful wisdom that has poured forth from so many who have taken the time to comment. Thoughts on how to positively raise children in a fractured family, why forgiveness is essential for healing…the list goes on. I am blown away daily by the exchange of ideas, the outpouring of support and the genuine care we show each other here.
That’s what I see when I read HGM. That and honest words written from my heart, all wrapped in laughter, because I LOVE to laugh.
I guess sometimes the truth hurts.
T, I am so glad HGM has you pondering…it’s so rewarding. Your comments do the same thing to me. Thank you. So grateful to have you here.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Hi Cleo,
I’ve been avidly reading your thoughts (and am delighted to see you posting several times a week – yay for us readers!). I too went through a divorce that blindsided me. Not due to infidelity per se, but complicated as they all are and with 2 small children caught in the middle. My ex, who divorced me basically washing his hands of me after 10 years has rewritten history in his head. It’s now a year and a half later and to hear him tell it, he was left behind and victimized, blah blah blah. I sit amazed at seeing the retelling in action. He BELIEVES it, firmly. I suspect maybe The Genius himself is guilty of rewriting what happened and casting his blame and ugliness as something noble and brave. It’s heartbreaking to watch, I feel, because if they don’t OWN their mistakes and feelings, they will never fully be able to grow and learn and evolve, which frankly is the only point of everything. Learning to let others make their own journey, without judgement has been a very liberating although hard lesson for me.
Please do not let The Genius affect your truth here. We love you as you are and greedily consume what you share, whilst cheering you on and sending you ripples of good vibes every day. I know you will be just fine. You are an amazing mother, an amazing daughter, and an amazing woman. I am so very excited to see what the future holds for you, knowing that truly amazing things are barreling towards you.
Thank you for your truth and your raw beauty in sharing so many hard things. Out of the darkness comes the most startling contrast. Always.
Best,
Jane
J,
I am so grateful for your beautiful words. Goodness, THANK YOU! Thank you for taking the time to read HGM. For commenting. For sharing your wisdom. For being here when I need you to be here. And for those ripples – I feel every one. Hopefully the future will hold for me all that you believe I am today. I have a ways to go…merrily I continue my journey.
“Learning to let others make their own journey, without judgement has been a very liberating although hard lesson for me.” For me as well, J. The rewards of learning this lesson are plentiful, though. Right up there with the rewards from forgiveness. It is liberating! And likely why I was able to remain centered in Yachats. I don’t want to judge people. I did it freely at one time and have learned how destructive it is and so wrong. I just thought it was me giving my opinion. I never took it a step further to see how it was intrusive and a power play. I am so grateful to have come to understand that it’s not my role, my right or my responsibility.
I’m starting to feel how this is snowballing. I learn to let others be, I forgive The Genius, I greet each day with joy, I honor nature…and now I smile when I don’t even know I’m smiling, I’m happy just because I’m happy, I love because it feels good to love and I’m not afraid to love.
My words will always be true and come directly from my heart. I’m grateful The Genius found HGM. He said he wouldn’t read it, but he did. I can’t do anything about it, but at least he knows how I feel. I don’t have any lingering need to tell him anything. It’s a wrap. I forgave him, I’m hiding nothing from him, and my words will come from my heart with no filter. You all know why I am writing HGM. We understand why we’re here. And, I imagine, one of the reasons (besides my size 11 flipper feet and decent sense of humor) why so many beautiful souls have congregated here is because I’m not out to hurt anybody. I’m telling a story. This isn’t a tabloid. I’m not jacking stuff up to get ratings. So I will continue to do what I’m doing because it’s working. We are all learning from each other here and having a blast doing it. And a good cry every now and then, too.
J, your words have really touched me. Thank you, love you, owe you. Stay close…
Love yourself,
Cleo
Cleo — can’t wait to hear more about yachats. I admire your restraint. I would have had Mr. J on the emotional operating table, attempting to pry the “what’s wrong” out of him without anesthesia. Ahem. You sing of maturity that I aspire to. So, I have to ask — has Mr. J opened up to you at all about this since your return?
Also, a word to the Genius. I wouldn’t know you if you came up to me and introduced yourself. If you dropped the words “happy dance chick”, I might raise an eyebrow but other than that. Your secret identity is safe with us.
As a married woman I agree with post above — it takes two people to make a marriage work. If you weren’t happy, Genius, you had a responsibility as part of your marriage commitment to address the problem. The fact you pursued an “alternate life” is *your* issue not Cleos. Now, go rent a car and leave us to revel in Cleo’s words.
K,
I’m growing up. And I am so grateful. I’m a late bloomer. Which feels right to me. I’ll get this gig down eventually!
Mr. Jackpot has not opened up to me since our return. But I’m hopeful that he’s doing some excavation of his own. He has such a beautiful soul. It deserves his love and the unconditional love of others.
The Genius submitted a comment today. I won’t post it. Not because of the content but because this is not about him. I truly hope he loses interest in my words and goes on about his life. HGM is for us. I’ll continue to write honestly and with no intent to harm or trash or demean anyone. Those who read my words and have followed this journey have witnessed my pain and my healing and understand why I am doing this.
I am so grateful to you, K, and to everyone who spends a moment here. I would not be where I am on this path without you.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Let him write his own damn blog. This one is YOURS, honey. YOUR experience, feelings, and growth.
Well, OK, there is that whole blog-title thing, but it’s become an inside joke for all of us who’re on the trip with you, because you’ve already grown so far past the woman who was gobsmacked by someone else betraying her. Anyone who has actually read any of your posts over the last few months has to know that this isn’t a he-done-me-wrong tale, it’s a coming of age novel that, if you keep up the great work, you’ll be working on for the rest of your days. You go, girlfriend!
P,
I adore you. Yea, the title. Some have suggested I change it. Maybe one day that will be the absolute perfect thing to do. I’ve always wanted to write a book title that mocks the time when paragraph titles were all the rage. Something like, From Pocket Call to One Hell of a Woman, my tale of infidelity, divorce, and emotional mayhem, the encounters, the tears, the joy and laughter, and a step-by-step guide (complete with DVD!) so you too can get back on the path to…blah, eh, blah.
How freaking funny would that be?
And I thought coming-of-age meant, like, a teenager, right? Yep. I sure am a late bloomer. P, I will never stop doing what I’m doing. And I don’t mean just writing HGM. I mean the excavation. I’m going the distance. And I’ve only just begun.
Thank you. Love you. Owe you.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Well, what I really meant by “coming of age story” was a “growing into the person we want to become” — something I personally think we ought to be doing all our lives. So, sorry if it sounded a bit insulting, it was meant positively!
And personally I find the blog name hilarious — one of my fave of your posts is the one where you pictured telling G. about it: Cleo: “It’s about me, not about you.” G: “OK, what’s it called?” Cleo: “Umm — did I mention it’s really really not about you?”
Can’t wait to read upcoming blogs — these cliffhangers at the end of your posts are killing me!
Thanks for all the inspiration and laughter!
P,
Oh, not insulting at all! I’ve been coming of age since age 1! I actually revel in the fact that I still feel like a teenager in some (positive) respects. I’m a late bloomer, P. Proudly so. In my own twisted way I see that as evidence that I will live past 90. My goal.
That’s one of my favorite lines as well. Only it really happened! The first two lines, anyway. I replied to his request for the name with, “I don’t want to tell you and I don’t want you to read it.” So I didn’t and he did.
If posed the question, What three things would you take to an island where you would remain for all your days?, I would take a funny man, chocolate and laughter. I’d rather be bald, have size 12 feet and live in an arachnid-infested cave than lose the ability to laugh.
You stay close you little morsel!
Love yourself,
Cleo
First comment, might ramble a bit; sorry!
I love it when people like The Genius respond to these sorts of situations! Because it’s always their own guilt and self-loathing that dictates their responses, they just pretend to be the offended party because they don’t want to own their actions. “Tough shit. Don’t do anything you’d be embarassed to have publicly acknowledged. This is why they say no man is an island” is something my mother told me when I started jr. high and a girl I’d publicly badmouthed found out about it and ripped me a new one. Of course I went home fuming about that incident but my anger was more toward myself though it took me years to see that. Your ex acted in a way he’d be embarassed to have your boys find out about and now he wants every reference to it deleted. If The Genius is reading this: this is what happens when you have a shared life. Everything Cleo has written about? Is hers. Her broken marriage. Her children. Her ex-husband. Her awesome trip to Oregon. This is not about you. Learn the difference between having an emotion and making other people responsible for that emotion.
You’ve respected his privacy and hers – where so many people would not have, myself included – and I’m glad to see you will continue to write. I really like reading this blog, though I’ve never been in a similar situation, and I end up thinking about a lot of what you write for hours after I’ve stopped reading. I’d hate for this to end. You aren’t just helping yourself with this blog, you’re helping other people to improve their own lives.
Anyway. I’ve loved hearing about all of the time you spend outdoors and your trip to Oregon (thrilled for you that you could go!). I really envy you having such wonderful surroundings to think in. I have Texas
Stay strong and beautiful, Cleo!
L,
Thank you so much for your kind words. I am so grateful to have the opportunity to write and to connect with so many beautiful souls who have helped me more than I could have ever imagined. I am so grateful you took the time to comment and that my words resonate with you.
We’ve all done things we aren’t proud of, things we wish we could have done differently. The fact that you recall that event and your Mother’s words of guidance tells me that you learned something important that has carried with you to this day. I have those moments in time as well. I still need my Mom to keep me on track. To remind me to do the right thing. I’m so glad she is still willing to fill that role!
L, can you move?
Nature was kind to the northwest. Over the next few weeks, as I amp up my training for my climb of Mt. Whitney, I will be exploring the Sierra Nevada mountains and take a REALLY up close look at the bay…from the water…as I swim from Alcatraz to Chrissy Field. I feel nature has something really big in store for me. I remain in awe, with gratitude and super-freaking committed to laughter. I think she likes to hear it.
I’ll be writing every step/stroke of the way. Stay close…
Love yourself,
Cleo
In regards to ‘The Genius’, one of the most difficult aspects after my divorce was understanding that my ex-husband and I were no longer in a relationship TOGETHER.
Meaning he was no longer allowed to tell me what to do, what to think, how I should feel. He no longer had input. This took him a long time to understand and on differing levels. I should have made clear boundaries at the beginning of the separation.
I made a mistake that I hope you avoid. I felt we could get along and trade our son back and forth. I started to feel taken advantage of fairly quickly, whenever he had to work late etc. I always picked up the mess just like when we were married. He didn’t seem to understand that we were not a couple any-more and he could not treat me as a wife/partner/girlfriend. Setting clear parameters and learning to say ‘no’ without qualifying-just ‘no’. You need to remind The Genius until he gets it, that if it is not directly about the kids, he has no say.
This is your blog, your feelings, your life. He has NO say. You need to remind yourself as well. This is your new life without him in it. He is making this a co-parenting issue and it is definitely not. Isn’t this the ‘cake’ that Americans like to talk about-eating your cake too? Tell him to keep his fork out of your cake;)
L,
I will reread your words often. Boundaries are a work in progress for me. And I’m learning that I will need to be ultra vigilant when it comes to The Genius trespassing. As he has done the past few days. It’s when I allow myself to be taken off-path that I feel unwell, upended. So, the solution to that is to not let myself be taken off-path.
To let go of energies that aim to upend me and to center in myself, in love, in compassion, in peace. I will focus my energies on becoming more aware of myself and how I interact with others, on the creation of my boundaries, on taking care of the needs of the boys and myself, on living a life of joy and being grateful for every moment of my life.
Thank you. Your words, and the words of everyone who takes the time to comment here at HGM, guide me daily.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Cleo,
I have read every word of your blog since the day early on that I found it. You definitely need to write a book. I’ll be the first in line to read it.
The one thing that struck me about The Genius finding your blog and not being OK with it is how predictable that whole thing was. You probably already figured this out, but for people like him, everything in life is about them. They are me-centric (in mind mind, something a little different than self-centered), and really believe that everything said, done, and even that randomly occurs in the world is about them. His disregard for your vows, his 4-year affair, all justified by him because it was right for him, and he deserved them. And all your actions during and since are wrong, because they are still about him – even though we know they aren’t, and they never were. At some point, he’ll hopefully begin to understand boundaries – where he ends, and others start. But honestly, in my experience with me-centric people, that rarely happens.
Far be it from me to give you advice, but I guess I’m going to. Deflect, deflect, deflect. You know the truth. You know who his stuff belongs to, and you know this blog belongs only to you, and it’s only about you. He can be here – it’s a free country, after all – but you have done nothing wrong. I’m sure it’s easy to fall back into that “Oh no – I messed up AGAIN” thought process that you probably got very practiced at with him. But deflecting that is part of your growth. And some things don’t deserve a comment, and don’t require defending, no matter what other people think! Keep up the great work!
P,
Thank you for your kind words. There will be a book…and I’ll make sure you have a cozy chair to sit in while we toast life and read from its pages.
I’ll take your advice and devour it. I’ve made my mistakes, and I will continue to as I grow and learn and love here on the blue marble. And I will continue to be honest with myself, and with everyone here at HGM, as I excavate and rebuild.
When I doubt myself, question if I am doing the right thing, I remind myself that I did not make the choice to betray my family. I am not capable of living a lie for four years. Or even for a week. So when I scratch my head at The Genius’ words or actions, I have to be gentle with myself and accept that I will never understand what motivates him. No matter what our problems were in our marriage, to betray someone for four years with total ease suggests that I am dealing with a person I cannot understand, I don’t know. So, when he tries to blame me or pull a power trip on me, I will shrug it off.
Thank you, P. So happy you are here.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Volaire said, “No snowflake in an avalanche ever feels responsible.”
Especially the narcissistic snowflakes.
Keep rockin’ on sister…we are all here…head-banging right along with you!
K,
Brilliant. And I love to hair-dance. How did you know?
So grateful for your presence…
Love yourself,
Cleo
“I’m not ok with this.”
Really? Good! Wait, was that a threat? What would he have you do, rip the blog down and hide your pain, as he has? Unbelievable.
Enough about him. You are right, his part in your blog is only an ingredient in a lavish and succulent recipe you are cooking for a fine dinner you are creating as you continue to feed yourself, without him.
My comment is more about your insight into the disconnect with you and Mr. Jackpot. I love that you are not going to make it all better for him. That to try to “fix” him would mean you think something is broken and you are judging him. So true, my friend! I MUST adopt this same mentality. I am in a newish relationship after divorce (RAD) and am looking around with paranoia for red flags and the like so I don’t fall into a trap and end up divorced again, as some of my friends and family have done. God forbid! Divorced once is common, divorced twice, now that’s a mark, IMHO.
My new honey is a flawed man with a back-story of his own and I need to accept him as-is, no returns, no refunds. As a 24 year old idiot I committed myself to my children’s father and KNEW he wasn’t the kind of person who was like me or good for me. But we were young, we’d change, right? Uh no. He’s that same 24 year old idiot today, at 41. So with my RAD, I refuse to be that girl again. BUT if he isn’t what I want now, at 42, then he ain’t gonna be. Thank you Cleo for repurposing this most poignant point to me.
T,
You are so welcome. Your comment further instills in me a desire to be grateful for our strengths and flaws and to not insert myself where I do not belong. Every moment I spend trying to fix someone else is a moment spent avoiding that within me that needs attention.
Establishing boundaries gives us permission to walk away when our needs aren’t being met or are being compromised in an unhealthy way. Being able to walk away gracefully is a powerful thing. Sometimes that personal power intimidates me, or I don’t want to be responsible for having it. Probably more the latter.
More to ponder as I cut the grass…thank you.
Love yourself,
Cleo
In my previous RAD (have only had two in the 5+ years since my separation/divorce) I thought I had the man I’d been dreaming of all the unhappy last years of my marriage…unfortunately, it began to dawn on me his shortcomings as a family man (as in, he wasn’t one) were not acceptable to me, the mother of two. It took a few months, but communicating my needs to him, soul-searching within myself, and finally acceptance that he would not be the man who I’d hoped he would be, I walked. I never felt so powerful or so scared. He’d been there to help me with my divorce, now there was only me. And my beautiful girls, who were the reason I took the power and used it for our own good.
BTW, Texas has beautiful areas to explore as well…I am in Central Texas, in the capital Austin…lakes, mountains, farmlands, a college town with a city feel, plenty of live music and weirdness….no other place in Texas is as lovely.
Your pictures though blew me away. Must. Travel. To. Oregon.
T,
I haven’t been to Austin, but I really want to go. I actually thought about moving there but the HEAT! And the arachnids! The music scene was quite a draw, as were the swimming holes. Alas, I was meant to live in Marin.
These post-divorce encounters we experience are so important to our growth as people, as souls. “I never felt so powerful or so scared.” Those moments when we feel the intensity of an emotion are beautiful, even if the emotion is fear. With each encounter we get a little closer to where we are meant to be. Often walking away takes us there.
Yes. You. Must. Oregon – a powerfully beautiful place. It truly touches your soul. I can’t wait to hear about your adventures when you go. I have many more pictures – and I’ll post them if I can ever figure out how to get my gallery to show up! I got passed over on the tech gene handouts.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Do you think you and Mr. JP had enough time to discuss expectations of the trip – not just hiking, food, and outdoor activities but as two adults…alone…sharing time together. Going through my own divorce with children (completely blindsided like Jane above), starting life over again makes every single moment all the more precious – time with your children or time spent with someone else or time with yourself. Post-divorce intimacy can crack open doors to scary feelings of vulnerability, desire, fear of rejection that could be freaking Mr. JP out. Even I’m a little freaked out for you! (and can’t wait to read what happens next.) People do react oddly when they’re feeling vulnerable – put up the shield or strike out with the sword thing. I understand that behavior very well.
I have been followed your blog for months because I enjoy your self-reflection through a situation that I am experiencing myself. But now, with Mr. JP and G posting — it’s just pure entertainment! You give me hope.
K,
Oh, we had plenty of time to discuss the expectations. We just didn’t. It would have been productive to acknowledge the potential hazards, not bury them, be vulnerable and then let go of any and all expectations. I don’t consider it an opportunity squandered, but rather a lesson fully realized. Many lessons, actually.
“…starting life over again makes every single moment all the more precious…” Does it ever. So very precious. While betrayal and divorce, or any life-changing experience, can be so devastating, the gifts given amongst the tears are more valuable than anything I’ve ever unwrapped. I am a changed woman, and I will continue to grow and blossom. My marriage didn’t play out as I wanted it to, but it played out how I needed it to. And for that I am grateful. Thank you for being here and for taking the time to comment.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Now that I’ve finished laughing at the Genius ‘not being okay’ with your blog, I can type once again. I literally gasped out loud and then cackled hysterically for a good twenty minutes. So unbelievable … yet so believable at the same time, he is. How telling he chose the time you were out of town to hit you with that. I had someone do something similar to me recently and the timing speaks volumes of their true character (or lack thereof). I think the same might be true here ….
I wanted to tell you that my mother-in-law lived in OR and I’ve been to some of the places you visited. Your descriptions are beautiful and made me smile. Thank you for that, and for sharing your story with us. I continue to be enthralled.
K,
It is funny…I didn’t laugh out loud, but I did shake my head and smile. But I did laugh out loud when I read your comment! I didn’t think about the timing as it pertained to his motives…that’s a good sign for me. I did express my gratitude that I was in a place that would support me beyond my needs as I read his email. Its a subtle difference but shows how one very similar thought can take me to a place where I judge or to a place where I am grateful.
I’m mad about Yachats, and every place I was so fortunate to experience on the trip. It’s a magical place. I cannot wait to bring the boys there. It’s the kind of place that stays in your memory. When they’re older they’ll remember splashing through Fern Canyon and picking berries until their hands are stained and their stomachs bursting. I have this feeling that Yachats will factor into my life quite a bit in my future. I believe that’s why I landed there. To say I was smitten is an understatement.
Maybe one day we’ll run into each other at the candy store where I’ll be loading up on dark chocolate almond bark and salty caramels!
Thank you for being here and for sweet words.
Love yourself,
Cleo
“I read HGM. I am not ok with this.”
To borrow a turn of phrase from my husband, how is that a Cleo problem?
Cleo, my husband attempted to arrange an affair, which I discovered because we share a computer and he left the chat window up. He attempted to play the “you invaded my privacy” card; turns out that doesn’t trump the “you attempted to cheat on me” card. We worked through some things but I can easily see how it might have ended with two single people. Reading your posts helps remind me of the work I still need to do for myself so that I am happy with me and not bubbling along passively in my relationship. I’m not as eloquent as your other commenters, but I felt compelled to reply.
Genius, if you read these comments, *KNOW* how much worse this could have been for you.
K,
I’m grateful you did reply, and with a very important morsel of wisdom, “Reading your posts helps remind me of the work I still need to do for myself so that I am happy with me and not bubbling along passively in my relationship.” Whether the desire to look inward is sparked by my posts or through an encounter along your way, it’s clear that we benefit when we take that spark and light a fire under our collective asses to live our life. LIVE it. Hard.
Thank you for taking the time to comment. I’m glad you’re here.
Love yourself,
Cleo