Part 1 of this story can be found here.
Every time I mention our ceremony, people look at me in one of two ways: like I have lost my mind or like I’m some sort of guru. Sorry to break it to you: I’m neither. Though I’ve often wondered about the losing my mind thing.
When we agreed to have the ceremony, I thought it would be some sort of symbolic thing that would give me something to look back on. And I thought it would help my ex with closure. Never in a million years did I think it would have such an impact on me. That night I roared with pain as I drove home. I let it rip through me until I was exhausted and then I fell into bed, into a deep, deep sleep. When I woke up the next morning I could not believe how light I felt. Seriously! I thought I would have another week of weeping and grieving in front of me. Instead, I felt like a burden had been lifted.
And it’s not just an inside change. When I’ve seen friends or talked to them on the phone, they’ve told me I look and sound different. I am lighter. They are right.
I expect more grief work is headed my way. 14 years of marriage doesn’t just end with a 15 minute goodbye. I am sad to admit that there is no such thing as a fairy tale. I am sad that we couldn’t find our way through the reality tale. I am lonely several times a day. I want male companionship.
What I now know is that I am sufficient for the grief. I am sufficient for the sadness. I am sufficient for loneliness. It may suck, but it’s a small price to pay to be able to set down a worn out story.
About the Author: Sarah Joy Cook is the founder of Project Restore Joy. She partners with people on their healing journeys, whether that be through reiki, yoga, nutrition, life coaching, or her blog. You can contact Sarah Joy at firstname.lastname@example.org and read more about her divorce experience at www.projectrestorejoy.com.