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Monday, February 21, 2011

Crystal D

Dear Crystal,

Well here you sit. 31 years old and single. Beautifully single. Probably more beautiful than you've ever been.


Because you did it.

You finally took your head from under the blankets and looked at the world around you, realizing the fundamental truth of sadness, anxiety, and hopelessness. You took that step, the hardest of hard steps, and you put yourself first. You walked. You walked when it was hard, you walked when you thought you couldn't do it, and you walked when everyone gave their opinion. In the face of heartache and guilt, you were able to look deep inside yourself and realize that staying would be easier, but it wouldn't be right.

Because you walked, you are beautiful. Courage is beautiful. Strength is beautiful. Confidence is beautiful.

When the panic sets in and you feel like the world is burying you alive, with all the 'what ifs' and the 'now whats' tumbling into your brain faster than your synapses can register - you don't give up. You breathe, cry, run, shower, or hug your babies. You pace, flutter, worry, and tremble, but never once do you consider that this will beat you.

When the pain attacks your muscles and you shrink into a shell of yourself, lacking the strength to get out of bed, you do it. You run. You work. You bitch, moan, and complain. But you do it. You alone get it done.

You lived as a daughter.
You lived as a wife.
You lived as a mom.

And now ... well now you live as you.

I am proud to know you. I am proud to see you succeed, and to try again when you don't.

Your children may not understand why you asked him to leave. You did a wonderful job protecting the world from the truth that was your relationship, to such a degree that no one knows the depth of your sadness. Your husband claims the same, to not know where this came from, to have been blind-sided, to have never been given a chance to fix things.

But inside, you know.

Your heart remembers the pain of the fear, the fear of the unknown, and the hopelessness that held you together as a couple.

You deserve love. And love deserves you.

But not a love of coming last, working harder, or fighting every day to make a smile.

Your smile is beautiful, and your laugh is a sparkle. Sunshine beams out your eyes when you light on something that makes you happy. You are contagious.

Life is hard. Guilt is harder.

No one has walked in your shoes. No one has heard your silent tears at night, or felt the anxiety that suffocated you on such a regular basis.

You are strong, wise, and independent. You are a mom to three precious children, and a substitute mom to so many more. Every day you make a difference.

Keep smiling.Don't let the guilt of your leaving weigh you down, when your heart continually tells you that this was right. Accepting life for what it is, with out the romanticism, the expectation of perfection, and the fear of letting someone else down, is the greatest accomplishment, and you've done that.

Don't look back in sadness. Look back at twelve years that started off glorious, and ended in the beginning of a new you. Stop thinking of the hurt feelings and the harsh words. Stop dwelling on his feelings and how broken he is. Focus on you - the rebirth of you, with strength and confidence and a biting desire to conquer the world.

Love will find its way into your life.

But, remember what you tell yourself: You like you! If you love yourself, it opens the door for others to love you.

Keep on keeping on. Cry when you need to, laugh when you will.

31 is not too old to start over. 31 is the perfect age to embrace yourself, and get out of the shadows you've buried yourself in.

You are fantastic!

Love, Crystal


Iman Woods Creative said...

You said it beautifully:

"But, remember what you tell yourself: You like you! If you love yourself, it opens the door for others to love you."

Laurel said...

Your letter gave me hope, thank you. It is so important to remind ourselves what we really do deserve. Though i don't know you, i feel like you deserve amazing things and nothing less.

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