Posts tagged ‘Scars’

August 6, 2011

Lesson #26: Frame Every So-Called Disaster With These Words: “In Five Years, Will This Matter?”

by bye2mrwrong

Life is a journey, and in that journey we hit bumps, we reach difficult cross roads and dead ends; we stumble, we fall, we bruise, we hurt and we cry. Life’s journey can be harsh and difficult, the lessons learned extreme. Sometimes surviving the journey is the worst kind of pain.  And while we feel that pain consuming us, we believe that life won’t be the same afterwards. We somehow expect the world to STOP.

But it doesn’t. Life goes on like nothing has happened. You wake up in the morning only to realize that you’re still alive. The sun has risen again, there is light out and a new day has arrived. Like everyone else around, you continue. Days, Month, Years pass by. Slowly the pain fades away, leaving only a mark in its place.

Professedly today’s disaster will have limited if any impact on our life say 5 years from now. Our perceptions of events change over time.  I guess the point of today’s lesson is just that. If and when the pain of our so-called disaster fades away, will it matter? When we were little, if we fell and wounded ourselves we would run back to mommy to wipe away the blood, kiss our bruise, and make the pain go away. If the fall was hard enough to leave a scar we could still look back at it and be reminded of the fall. But the pain is long forgotten. I suppose the same goes for the deeper wounds, the emotional ones. The ones where the scar is not as visible on the outside, as it is on the inside. Even those scars heal, even broken hearts mend. The question standing is how soon do we forget? How long does it take before it doesn’t really matter? One minute, one hour, one week, one month, one year, one lifetime?

I’ve found out that so much can happen in a year, let alone five. And with my luck anything and everything can happen in a year. In one year I found out that my husband was having an affair, I went for the first time to a psychologist, I lost my job, I got divorced, I fell in lust, I left my home, flew to another country, and after 10 years out I moved back in with my parents.

So will it matter in 5 years from now that I was cheated on, that my heart broke, that I divorced?

I guess that depends what the next 5 years hold for me. If my future turns out to be all sunshine and roses, if I find my dream job and a dream man to go along, if I get married to this dreamy lad, and have his child, if every choice I make from now on will be a success…well then I guess that everything that happened until now (including and especially getting divorced) won’t really have mattered. And actually may be a blessing in disguise.

But if I meet a slew of men, only to find out that none of them are right, but only right now. If I discover that I cannot find a job here, or cannot afford to rent a place on my own, If I feel that I am lonely without my old friends, and I have not met any new ones; if being so close to my family will drive me up the wall and cause a family feud…..then it will matter. It will matter that I divorced and that this was the path that it led me on.

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March 16, 2011

My Perfect Ring of Scars

by bye2mrwrong

I’ve been asked many times why I still wear my wedding band. My husband took his off a few months ago. Till this day I wonder if he did it because he met someone else, was told it was inappropriate, or maybe just because he didn’t want to be reminded of me every time he looked down at his finger.

I’ve talked to people who told me they took theirs off as soon as they realized that the marriage was falling apart, that it wasn’t worth anything. Me, I don’t want to take mine off. And if I don’t want to I shouldn’t have to, right?!

First of all, it was an expensive ring, and it’s stunningly beautiful. It took me and my husband months to find the perfect matching rings. We searched for it high and low, in 3 different countries, until we laid eyes on the just the right one.

Second, sometimes when I’m going out and I get hit on by ridiculously drunk, or just horrendously ugly, stupid or just not my type men; I lift my hand up and explain that I’m married. I know, I know it’s a little bit of a white lie since OK officially I am still married, but in reality I’m actually practically divorced. But it gets me out of difficult situation easily without breaking any hearts.

But it’s not the beauty of it, or even its practical use that keeps me wearing it. It’s also not because I’m still partly taken. Definitely not. It’s just that this ring is a reminder of who I used to be, of my life before. Of the man I chose and loved. Of the dreams I hoped for with him. It’s a reminder of the extremely young, innocent and naïve person I used to be, and the broken image of that person that is left now.

I’m not saying I will never take it off. Maybe one day I won’t have the need any more to be reminded. Or maybe I will be OK with moving forward, without looking back. And of-course if another man comes along and replaces this ring with another, then I guess I won’t mind.

But for now it is my perfect ring of scars.