Today marks the end of my mourning and I feel ready for it. At the start of this purposeful mourning period, I carried around the dead body of the marriage I once thought I had. In some way, I was unable to accept the reality that a stinking rotting corpse was what I had treasured. I minimized myself in an effort to save the relationship and lost my identity in the fog of abuse. Eff that!
I am a strong, lively, genuine woman deserving of the same respect and thoughtfulness I give. I deserve to not be abused, but loved and cherished instead. Kindness is not just for others, but myself also.
I finally treated myself kindly when I gave myself permission to feel sorry for myself. That act of my compassion allowed me to be weak and imperfect. This allowed me to release a lot of shoulds I had accumulated.
I know there will be moments of anger and sadness that rise up, but I no longer feel an overwhelming sense of loss about my place in life. I have adjusted to my reality, which includes a world of promise in my future. I am genuinely happy to cross this threshhold.