Lucky

I'm in the middle of updating my resume but I had to stop and blog. I had to. For a girl who until a week ago hadn't written in months, this is...well, you'll see.

The last four years have been honestly hellish. I realize that part of, okay a decent chunk of, the blame falls to me. Not because I deserve(d) any of this, but because I blatantly made some choices that led me to those dark places.

Did I say last four years? Let's change that seven. The last seven years. They haven't been all bad and there are certainly some brilliantly bright spots. But. There have been times that were pretty bad. A lot of times that were pretty bad.

And then tonight...just a few minutes ago, actually...I was reading a friend's blog post. And I realized that I am incredibly lucky, and far more naive than I can comprehend, let alone admit.

Six and a half years ago, give or take a few months, I was engaged to be married. I'd like to say that I was ecstatic, but the truth is that there was just too much baggage to begin with. He ended things. Years later I realized what a wonderful stroke of mercy that was, for him to end something so damaging that I was clinging to so desperately. But at the time all I could see was betrayal. He'd taken my whole life away from me. I thought.

But the truth of the matter was, I didn't lose anything. I was thrust down a new path I didn't necessarily want to take, but my life as I knew it was not gone. It was only a hypothetical future that I lost. To this day I don't know what his motivations were, but they really don't matter. The relationship was killing me in every way conceivable, and it ended. Case closed.

So three years ago I peed on a stick and saw two pink lines. (I actually still have all five positive pregnancy tests. How gross is that?) I know I made choices that made it more likely for me to be a single parent. I know this. But, ultimately, I am doing this all alone because he chose not to be involved. Let's say that again. Because he chose not to be involved. I did not choose to be a single parent. I chose to be a parent, and I'm doing it alone because he's not here. And while I would never wish this upon my worst enemy I have to acknowledge that there are some so-called advantages.

There was pain in that situation, too. Obviously. In some ways the broken engagement was worse because I never saw it coming. I know it's cliche to say I felt like I was hit by a freight train, but I did. There were times that I was shocked to realize I could still breathe. Being single and pregnant was different. The loneliness and pain was suffocating but it was more of a slow burn. It lingered. Sometimes it still lingers when I look in Riley's blue eyes and know that he wouldn't recognize the person he inherited them from.

But as much as that hurt(s), I didn't lose anything. Well, a job that I loved because I chose to move back in with my parents, but a) that was the smartest thing I ever did and b) it's just a job. So once again I was thrust on a path I would not have consciously chosen thanks to the decisions (or lack thereof) of another person. My life was changed forever, but I didn't lose it. It's just...different. Sometimes a hard different.

Here I was thinking I know what pain is, what it's like to suffer or to survive. And I do. But I haven't had my whole world revoked without warning.

Someone very close to me recently told me how lucky I am to be my age and single and not ever have gone through a divorce. I thought this person must have no idea what it's like to be 27, single, female, and Mormon. But he was right. I read a friend's blog post that touched (just touched) on the pain from her divorce. Everything she'd ever wanted and/or depended on and/or never thought she'd lose. Gone.

I know it's not fair for me to say that I get it now, because of course I don't. I hope I never do. And it's easier for me to discount the pain I've felt over the last seven years because most of it is over now and I can see how I've risen from the ashes as a better phoenix. I mean person. Better person.

But tonight I am a little more grateful.