I realized just how much anger I still have in my life. Mostly at my ex husband. I hate him, like nearly everything about him. I do not think of myself as an angry, hateful person and I know he is deserving of my hate. But I do not want to feel hate and anger in my life on a regular basis. I also do not want him to have any affect on me: good or bad.
During my most recent exchange with him of the children, this anger erupted right below the surface. Like a fast moving wildfire gathering speed and ferociousness as the seconds and minutes past. My skin was hot and my blood was boiling.
Nearly every time I have to see him, I literally bite my tongue and shove my feelings so deep inside my shoes feel tight. I tell myself it is for the good of the children and I am the better person.
This time when I got back in the car this time all I wanted to do was scream. Scream all the things I wish I had said, not just from today but from the ten years before today. The aggressive monologue imagined would surely be filled with an obscene amount of foul language. In a way, I usually would never speak. But I did not. I held on to the rage for dear life as I journeyed back home. I am afraid of what I would say and I am also afraid of expressing it in front of my new partner, Chris who was with me. I worry he will be upset that I still have so many feelings for the ex, all be it negative feelings.
My fire, my rage was quickly extinguished by a good 20 minutes of tears. Streaming down my face steadily. Even as I write this today, my tears, these ever faithful companions join me again. I often internalize anger.
This man hurt me for far too long. But we are divorced now. Living in different states. Living mostly separate lives. We are both in serious relationships. My kids are doing better than they have ever done.
But why? Why can’t I release this anger?
I know this anger does not serve me. I know I am in charge of my reaction. But I cannot control this. I have tried. I have done it all. I have talked about this in therapy. Written a letter to him expressing everything and burning it. I even once yelled at him on the phone until he hung up. I have burned my wedding drees and kettubah (the Jewish marriage contract). I have meditated on it. But this anger is still there. I am not always fully aware of it. But this dark, heavy feeling is always present, although often well hidden.
Maybe I need to forgive him. I do not know if I can ever forgive him for the horrible things he has done. He did apologize recently and said he realizes I will never forgive him and I that he does not deserve it. In my most generous moments, I feel sorry for him and know how truly sad and pathetic he is. There is a cornucopia of obstacles to overcome and lots of demons need to be slayed on the journey to release this.
As I sat down to write this piece the dark clouds in me opened up and the a divine bright light revealed the truth. I allow him to make me see myself as the victim still. I will not be a victim anymore. Here I am, ready to begin the journey to release this. I am not broken, misused, misunderstood, not lovable, not good enough, stupid, worthless, ugly and a million other things he has said and I internalized. I am rewriting this story because it is mine. I need to speak to the goddess within and tell her the truth. Who I am and what I am. I need to say it so much, that there is absolutely no doubt. And in those moments of interaction I will be strong from the inside out.
I am a goddess. I am magnificent temple. I am everything I am and have everything I need. I choose to be at peace with myself, my past, my present and those around me. We are all works in progress. This is the story of a suburban goddess mom and in this area I am under construction, but only temporarily.