Guided By Love

I sat in my car as the wind howled around me. I could hear trees falling and the rain battering my windscreen. It was pitch black and bitterly cold. Inside my car I was shivering; not only from the cold but also the shock. My body reeling from the news, my heart breaking. I sat trying to shake it off like a bad dream. I thumped the steering wheel angrily, wailing, sobbing and despairing. What was I going to do? How could this be happening? It was the worst storm we had had in a decade; it was also the evening of my 20th Wedding Anniversary the night my husband, out of the blue, told me he was leaving. Waves of shock and panic rippled through me. My stomach felt like the inside of a washing machine spin cycle. The intensity of my feelings gained momentum as my heart pounded faster and faster almost beating out of my chest. The weather outside so obviously reflecting my internal emotions. The destruction of the storm echoing the destruction of my life. The man who I thought was my soul mate, who I would grow old and wrinkly with had decided to leave me, our kids, our home and move to the other end of the country. It may have been the other end of the world. Of course, like every marriage we had our share of challenges, none though that I thought were insurmountable. Sometimes I forgot to do the washing up, sometimes he forgot to get a card. We had grown up together and our partnership had made us better people. Every day there was a check in call from him and I’d get a schoolgirl sense of excitement when his car pulled onto the drive. This was the man I was so connected to that we simultaneously chose the same Christmas lights at different shops on the same evening. And yet there he was shoving a few items of clothes into a bag, whilst I followed him around the house like a lost sheep trying to get him to talk to me, to make sense of what was going on. Him looking up at me with a teary blank face saying, “I’ve made my choice; I just have to go.” I felt my entire world crumble apart. I had wanted so badly to prove to our kids, Alfie and Iris, that love can endure, to spare them the heartache of parents separating. I felt I had failed them and my future grandchildren. For the last few years, I had tried to fix the subtle grumblings of his discontent, whilst at the same time coming to recognise mine. I felt that love conquers all, believed that marriage is worth fighting for. Both of us had experienced the loss and disempowerment of our parents divorcing, I hung on with all my might for our children not to have the same fate. The pain and grief of this earthquake ripping through my life was unbearable. After watching him leave, I realised life was presenting me with a choice- to stay bound and stuck in anger and disappointment or I could pick myself up, dust myself off and choose love. Up to this point, my beliefs and expectations were like fairy tales, romantic notions. I thought that my marriage would be lifelong, that all obstacles could be overcome and that we would find a way to be besotted with each other again. Choosing love meant unbinding myself from old expectations of who I was and how I show up in the world. I learnt a new way of viewing love that involved healthier boundaries, self-empowerment, and compassion for myself. Choosing love was an invitation to live a truly Soul led life, grounded in self-belief. Amidst the pain and grief of separation it was my lighthouse. A beacon of light, rising out of the darkness. A tall and stable safe harbour for my tumultuous sea of emotions. Walking down this new unexplored, path guided by love was a process. Although I did not know where the path would take me, it felt right. I felt completely supported and safe. Every turn has offered me a friendly ear, a warm hug of encouragement and lucky synchronicities that have propelled me forwards. That have held my resolve, my focus and encouraged me not to dwell. Each step invited layers of me to be released. It was like I’d been wrapped up for years under many layers and as I walked, I discarded one item at a time leaving a trail behind me. Each item discarded left me feeling lighter, freer, and more peaceful. Ultimately, I became comfortable in my own skin, accepting of my true nature freckles and all. I knew in my bones that I am lovable and that I have a beautiful love to give and share. I also knew I had to shed the layers that did not serve me. The layers had kept me warm and cosy all these years, or so I’d thought. In fact, the warm fluffy scarf of not speaking up for my needs and wants had been strangling me. The heavy, waterproof coat had protected me from accessing my true feelings instead of allowing my tears to flow easily. The belt around my waist was a tourniquet for keeping ‘everything together’ even though it pinched. Now I walk with a spring in my step, with my head held high. I feel light and free like a summer dress, blowing in the gentle breeze, unencumbered by expectations, and allowing my creativity full freedom of expression.