Body, Mind, and Solo

It was stupid to think that at 19 years of age I had any business getting married. But I did, in a courthouse near San Francisco. He was a tall, gorgeous blonde from Australia and his blue eyes sparkled with hope of a beautiful life “Down Under.” Marriage was a part of the Dream that I was sold as a young girl. “You are no one without a husband.” So, I dutifully took my place in the realm of the wed and moved to Oz. My goal was to return to California for a Big White Wedding. So, a year after being married and moving to Australia, I returned home to plan the Big Event. Much to my surprised, I received a 6-page letter from him just days after my arrival home. This was in 1989–before cell phones, email, and the Internet. The letter was blunt and painful. “Don’t bother coming back to Australia. You’re not wanted here. I don’t love you. I’ve moved and disconnected the phone.” With the turning of each page I fell deeper into the darkness. The sheets of paper cutting deep into my heart and tearing up any shred of hope I had for my future. Yes, I was young, but I was in love, passionate, and I moved across the planet for a man. My world crumbled. All that I owned, including all my money, was in Australia. Stuck, alone, and lost I fell into a deep depression.

For weeks I visited a psychiatrist every other weekday; each visit ending with the gifting of two valiums–one for that night and one for the following night. After a month of care, I did not improve. I was suicidal, lost over 15 pounds, and the doctor feared that I would harm myself. She handed me a stack of papers after one of our sessions and told me that she was recommending that I spend some time in in-patient care. “There is a lovely facility in the rolling hills of Martinez, California.” Fill out this paperwork and bring it with you to our appointment next week. I knew that I was heartbroken, but I did not realize how far into the darkness I let this breakup take me. Shocked, I left the hospital with the stack of papers that weighed down my heart and soul. “This can’t be happening to me.” I whispered to myself. I looked up with my tear-filled eyes, there a flock of blackbirds dance above me in perfect synchronicity. They swooped down, shining like black confetti, and twirled up to the heavens. I took a deep, cleansing breath and remembered the poem from Ken Kesey’s One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. “One flew east. One flew west. And one flew over the cuckoo’s nest.” This was it. I had a choice to accept this lunatic’s fate, or I could rewrite the ending. Yes, I was heartbroken. Yes, I was abandoned. Yes, I was broken. But I was still able to choose my fate, and I chose courage. That night I went to a student travel agent and found a trip to Europe. I took the money that I saved for my wedding and bought a ticket to Heathrow. It was my first step to healing and it was through travel that I was able to mend my broken heart and bruised soul.

On my trip I learned that I can rely on myself and that I can trust my intuition. I met wonderful people who helped me recover and taught me how to laugh again. Crazy, I had to travel the world to find myself. But I did. So, if you are a bit lost, broken hearted, or needing some inspiration to move to the next place in your life, I hope that this book brings you the courage you need to move forward with joy and hope.

“A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”
- Lao-tzu

May this be your first step.

Teresa