7 years ago, my former spouse asked for a divorce. After so many years of being controlled in a certain sense, by both him and his mom, I couldn't believe it. I had given up, 4 months earlier, a job because he gave me the ULTIMATIUM...it was either my job or him. My parents were adivisng me not to quit, to leave on a good note; he didn't understand that despite the positions "crap," it did give me a sense of belonging. And now... neither. Of course, I went into denial...and we struggled for another 3 months.
Then I got job in town; found a little apartment for my dog and I. Nothing was the same. Nothing was ever the same. At times, a quiet voice inside me said, "tell him to find a lawyer and get it done." Just do it, just do something, for once that doesn't require YOUR MOM. That is how I felt.
I know lots of people, probably the majority of people, still believe that it was I, who asked for the divorce. I had been controlled, manipulated; I put up with water that I couldn't drink, I couldn't bathe, I couldn't clean with. Did I finally have enough?
No, because I felt then that if my marriage crumbled it would be ALL MY FAULT. I HAD to make it work. In addition to the fact that I believed then what I still do....my ex-husband is not a bad guy. He has a sweet tender heart. The world is a better place because he is in it, its just too bad he can't own that.
However this isn't about him, this is about me. YES, ME! Damn it. I gave up my way of life, I gave up possibilities for me, to marry and move to rural Montana. To learn a new way of life. And I did. I learned to ride, and enjoy it. I learned to cut cows and be successful at it. I learned how to calve a heifer, know how long to wait before I went in to help. I learned who to call for what kind of help. I learned names of grasses, I learned about rattle snakes and different birds. The signs of spring. I came to appreciate nature in a way I would never have. I possibly understand people better because of my life in Montana. I also got crushed.
Big Time.
Had to give up my way of life, the life I'd come to know and even love. Basically had to give up everything, again, for him. What did he give up?
Rounding the corner, enhancing on the art that I love and art that I wanted to learn, I got involved with another art group in town. Painters, sculpters .....artists of a different fiber. I took classes I would never had, had I still been in Montana. Mainly because I wouldn't know they existed.
Something I have wanted to do for the past 5 years, is to have my own "Art Camp." A place very much like Brave Girls Club, though I hadn't formalized it enough in my mind.... but a place where adults could come and try their "hand" at art. Whether it be pottery, yupo, MODGE PODGE, weaving.... knitting, felting, fabric dying..... some will take with them a sense of healing, others a wonderful experience of taking this art piece that didn't turn out with another and making something that DID. Or maybe it doesn't, but hang it on the wall and call it "a walk in nature" and see what kind of life it takes on.
What I've come to realize, for myself, is that Life is ART. ALL of life. Whether it be cooking oatmeal for your children in the morning, hiking the hills looking for deer sheds, saving a life in the OR, communicating....ALL of that is art. And its special. And its beautiful.
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