My story: Part I

{via here}

This post was one of the more emotional ones I’ve sat down to write.  I’ve been going back and forth with what events from the past 6 months I want to share, and how vulnerable I want to be. The truth is though, writing is my therapy. While I am not the first to experience pain and hardship, I marvel at the power of growth. Even 6 months later.

{if you are new, you can read about where I am at here}

So here I sit, fingers to the keyboard, and I write…

Where it all began…

Chris and I married in March of 2009. Our relationship was nothing short of a whirlwind. I was an immature, free spirit, living on the bank of mom and dad. I had a year left of college, yet somehow no direction for my life. I had just come face to face with death for the first time, and was barely staying afloat. Chris came into my life when I least expected, and hit me like a bolt of lightening.  I’ll never forget the day I knocked on my neighbors door, his door, apartment 19. My sister had warned me about the “HOT” neighbors downstairs, and I was waiting for the perfect excuse to introduce myself. I was new to the complex, it was happy hour, and I needed to borrow some ice…the perfect in. I wore my cutest jean skirt and Ugg boots, and strutted downstairs. Erik, one of the roommates, answered the door and invited me in. The place looked like a frat house. I looked over and couldn’t help but notice the moth eaten, sunken in, afraid to even sit on it, couch to my left. Hunched over, glued to the TV, there he sat… bright orange t shirt, baseball hat pushed down over his face, completely chilling. We made eye contact…and I knew right then, I was going to be hooked.

“Hi, I’m Lindsay”.

“My sister and I just moved into apartment 21 upstairs. It’s so nice to meet you”.

“We usually have happy hour around 5 pm, so stop on by whenever”.

“Yeah, that would be great”, Chris replied.

We carried on some small talk, Erik handed me a tupperware of ice, and I was on my way.

Chris and I’s initial introduction was soon followed by hot tub dates, movie nights, bbq’s, nights out on the town, beer pong on my balcony, late night heart to hearts, beach days listening to Incubus’s greatest hits, road trips…nothing was off limits.

I think what made me crazy about Chris was that there was no holding back. I always wanted to be with someone that could run just as crazy with me. Someone that could throw all logic out the window. Chris never judged, and loved me right where I was at. He dreamed big with me. He never forced me to deal with my past, simply focused on the moment. Looking back though, I see how this set us up for failure. We ignored past hurts. Past pains. We thought our relationship was invincible.  From the beginning we were on the fast track, yet somehow we were both ok with that. We were ready for whatever life threw our way.

November 2008. A positive pregnancy test.

I knew it. I was at peace with it. We were going to own this. We were scared sure, but completely ready for this next chapter.

December 31, 2008, Chris proposed on the beach in Malibu with the most gorgeous of rings. I’ll never forget that moment for as long as I live. I felt like a child being asked a life or death question, while being handed a sparkly diamond, and all I could think about was asking for my parents permission.

March 21, 2009, we married in Las Vegas in a small cermemony with our parents and my sister by our side. I was 4 months pregnant.

my sister and I on my wedding day

My wedding day was a tad bittersweet for me. At heart, I am a hopeless romantic. Even after my blueprint being pulled from beneath me this year, I still believe in happily ever after. I believe my fairy tale is out there just waiting for me to grab it by the reins. My wedding day was completely different than what I had always envisioned. It was a wham bam thank you maa’m sequence of events. I always pictured my daddy walking me down the aisle. My sister as my maid of honor, my best friends as my bridesmaids. Photos of my makeup artist bestie, making me beautiful. A kick butt bachelorette party. Showers. Our first dance. Dancing with my daddy. The PHOTOS.

I wanted to be celebrated. I wanted to be the center of the universe for just a moment in time. Every girl deserves that right?

 Looking back, I realize we cut ourselves short. I was too caught up in the opinions of others, and sacrificed my inner most dreams.

If I could go back knowing what I know now, I would have thrown other peoples views of “being pregnant out of wed lock” and stomped on them. My heart was never 100% in it. Maybe if we built on our relationship, things would have been different. I painted a picture like I was happy and life was perfect, but deep down I wasn’t so sure. I went with it and did what I thought was the right thing to do.

{via here}

August 5, 2009 was hands down, the best day of my life.

Landyn Noella was brought into this world on an early Wednesday morning, and life suddenly made sense. I recommitted my life to my family, and threw all selfish desires out the window. From the outside, I had what looked like the perfect life. Successful husband. Healthy baby girl. Stay at home Momma. Our first house.

How could I not be blissfully happy? 

As many of you know, becoming a momma for the first time brings on the best ahhh moment.

Suddenly your purpose in life is complete. But something inside me was still searching.

I wanted a deeper purpose that branched outside of family.

So I started this blog.

Not only did blogging shun light on my passions, but it gave me a feeling of worth. It made me feel like I wasn’t alone in this world.

My feelings for once were validated. I was heard.

My tummy still gets butterflies thinking about it.

Each time I clicked publish, I walked deeper into my happy place.

It brought about an inner happiness, I’m not sure I’ve ever felt. People noticed me.

I would stay up into the wee hours of the night reading my favorite blogs, discovering new ones. Becoming inspired. Escaping my reality.

Around Landyn’s first birthday, I began receiving a tremendous amount of pressure to have another baby. I knew without a shadow of a doubt, I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready physically, emotionally, or mentally, and I began to use my “sick as a dog” pregnancy with Landyn as my perfect excuse. I was certain though, that time would change my perspective. Another year passed. I still wasn’t ready. I felt guilty. I began bargaining with myself. But why, I wondered? I always wanted a big family. I soon discovered that I was masking my real truth. I wasn’t happy in my marriage, and I knew darn well that bringing another child into the equation was not the answer. People started resenting me.

Looking back, I don’t think there was ever a point where Chris and I were completely stable. It was just a matter of owning up to it. I think I knew all along something wasn’t right, but it took me rediscovering myself to truly see things clearly.

We both began to flounder. Soon we were leading two completely different lives.

For once, I began to do things for myself, and was getting a high on my independence.

October 2011, I visited my best friend in Kentucky.

{Maysville, Kentucky}

I spent a good majority of my trip crying on Allison’s shoulder. My unhappiness busted at the seams, and it felt so freeing to have it made known. In no way does me going to Kentucky and my divorce parallel each other. It was simply an experience that opened my eyes and validated my feelings for the first time in forever.  I rediscovered the ME that had been trapped for so long.

I began to vision my perfect life.

That’s all it took for me to realize, I wasn’t living that.

 I didn’t see myself in my current situation forever. I began to feel extremely guilty.

Did my happiness really matter? Did I have it all wrong? Was I truly putting Landyn’s best interest forward?

We all make mistakes, have trials, overcome hardship, and feel less that stellar about our marriage, and this is completely ok.

It’s how you own up to it, that makes all the difference.

I knew exactly what I wanted, and this wasn’t it. I knew one day Chris and I would make the best of friends, but at this time in our life we were far to gone.

I felt like I was in the midst of this crazy current, hanging onto a rock for dear life. I could either let go and see where life takes me, or drown in my unhappiness.

November 2011, our marriage was over.

Landyn and I, November 2011

While I am a constant work in progress,  I am learning to look beyond the constricting definition our society places on “normalcy”. No family is perfect, no situation is ideal. Our stories are always evolving. I never saw myself living this reality the day I walked into apartment 19. I never would have believed you if you told me I had divorce in my cards. The reality is, I am starting over, and there is nothing wrong with it. My daughter will be far more blessed with a mommy and daddy that are happy.

{Via here}

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