Before I tell you what happened…
I’m going to start with a story.
One day I ran into a few friends at a local coffee shop. One of the girls has started a second career. She’s training to become a paramedic.
“That’s so cool,” I say. “You’re a badass.”
“I’m not the badass,” she says. “You are.”
“Why would you think I’m a badass?” I ask. “You’re the one behind the wheel of an ambulance racing to save lives.”
“I was a journalism major,” she says. “I was never as brave as you are. I could never bring myself to be that vulnerable. I couldn’t share like you do.”
It’s deep into my divorce.
I’ve been writing my relationship, and divorce column for several years. It’s one of the most raw, and vulnerable periods in my life. I realize people in the community are reading my work.
I just don’t always know who they are.
Until they stop me to tell me they’re following my work, relate to my words, or confide a secret. Men and women will find me when they need counsel.
I’d given it a lot of thought.
Initially, I turned the editor down.
It didn’t feel like the right time. It was the first year of my divorce. I was overwhelmed by my husband’s financial abuse. I didn’t think I could be prolific enough to come up with three columns a week.
This writer’s heart felt empty.
I didn’t think it had much left in it.
But the editor gave me a choice.
She told me I could pick the topic.
“You can write about whatever you want,” she said.
“Okay,” I said. “I want to write about relationships, love, and divorce.”
I sat down with my three boys. I wasn’t willing to write about my life unless I had their blessing. I was no longer going to be writing features, profiles, or a business column.
I was going to be a relationship columnist.
I was going to be sharing intimate details of my heart, and our lives.
My boys were 14, 17, and 19 at the time. They didn’t flinch. They didn’t miss a beat. They told me to do it. I’ve always been fascinated by them. Especially, at those ages during a divorce.
I’ve usually attributed it to a few things.
Like their mother, they don’t find life embarrassing.
They find it human.
And like their mother, they are driven by purpose.
They want to make a difference in other people’s lives. They are passion-driven. My oldest son is a sports writer, my middle son coached for years, and my youngest is a writer/musician.
I don’t need to make apologies for the vulnerabilities I share.
The people closest to me are proud of me.
But a recent comment said I should.
It surprised me.
You bond with the people whose work you read, and vice versa. This individual has read my writing for years. I feel like I’ve gotten to know them.
That’s the beauty of exchanging the written word.
Words find people at the right time.
They find them when they need them.
They bring comfort in the middle of a tear-stained night, relief after years of an overwhelming battle, clarity to heart-laced confusion, a confidante for our secrets, or a kindred spirit when our world lacks one.
Words make us feel less alone.
There are all kinds of stories.
Each demanding to be told.
I now write about dating. The stories aren’t necessarily pretty. Dating after divorce is filled with disappointment, and drama. The human condition can be even more compromised after a divorce.
The heart hurts.
A hurting heart doesn’t always make the best choices.
And there are people who prey on them.
These are the lessons I’m learning. This is the next part of my life. I’m no more ashamed of it than I am telling the stories of my marriage. Life, love, and relationships are complex.
The comment the reader left was upsetting.
I think because as I’ve said, I’ve come to know them.
They thought the dating stories were damaging my otherwise good reputation.
I don’t see it that way. The dating stories are just as messy as navigating my way out of a failing marriage. I didn’t want my marriage to fail, anymore than I wanted to be dating again.
But this was meant to be my path in life.
I embrace it.
I can only write for others who do too.
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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From The Good Men Project on Medium
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Photo credit: Vitaly Gariev on Unsplash
