into the light

photo by the beautiful Emma GallowayPIN IT

photo by the beautiful Emma Galloway of MDLT

On my bathroom mirror is a little quote scrawled on a scrap of paper and taped to the glass. It reads, ‘you will find that it is necessary to let things go, simply for the reason that they are heavy...’ it’s been my mantra these past few weeks.

I’m not the most patient of people. I try to be. But I’m not. I’m fickle and unforgiving and when pushed have the bad habit of exploding.

I’ve been pushed.

I could have easily allowed myself to spiral into a bit of funk. Some days I wanted to. Some days I craved it; the shot of vodka, the packet of cigarettes, the binge, the bed, the giant fuck-you=finger to adult life and the shit storm that post-relationship aftermath creates. But I didn’t, because as much as that person is still a part of me, I’m not that person any more.

In the middle of my house is a big old wooden table. It’s new to me, but it holds the stories of many lives and homes and families. It has scratches along the surface and crayon down its legs. I sanded and worked it back and oiled it and made it soft and clean again. But it’s still weathered and worn. It’s still aged and alongside the signs of love are signs of years of being mistreated. Despite all of the bumps and bruises, the scratches and stains… it’s still strong and sturdy (and heavy, god is it heavy)… on top of it next to my electricity bill and a half cup of stale tea sit my divorce papers.

Signed. Sealed. Not yet delivered.

On top of its scratched and weathered surface sits the scratched and weathered surface of my own heart. Pages that represent my own battered past. Pages that represent so many things that went wrong.

Bo’s dad has been in town for the past week. His visit has been filled with the usual frustration and challenge that I feel when I am in his presence. I have found myself returning time and time again to the words of C. Joybell. C. let things go, simply for the reason that they are heavy… let things go.

I’ve had enough of being weighed down by heartache. I’ve spent the last twelve months freeing myself of the shackles of it all. Twelve months of gentle healing. Twelve months of powerful affirmations and hard work and many lonely nights fighting with my own vulnerabilities. Twelve months of work put me in this place, a place with a community of beautiful friends, a place with a strong heart, a place full of compassion and a no-bullshit attitude, a place where for the first time in forever I am opening myself to new opportunities, new people, new friends, new hands to hold… without fear.

I’ve had a lot of time in the past week (insomnia, my old friend) to reflect on relationships that were and were not ever meant to be. Relationships are hard. Marriage is hard. Life is hard. There is nothing clean or magazine-spread-pretty about real life. Real life is gritty and it’s full of awkward moments and imperfect friends. It’s looking in the mirror at your un-Photoshopped, morning breath sporting, lumpy nude self when you get out of the shower and not hating it. It’s sitting and talking to a friend over a glass of wine while one of you has a breakdown about marriage or life or parenting or food and actually listening to each other without judgement. It’s holding the hand of someone you love when you can’t say the words they want to hear. It’s heartbreak and constantly screwing up and saying the wrong thing and making mistakes and trying really hard not to endlessly hate yourself for it. It’s dirty nappies and sinks full of dishes and questionable stains and windows covered in tiny fingerprints… leftover remnants from exciting mornings watching, face pressed up to the window-sill, waiting for the garbage-truck to come by just one last time.  It’s accidental pregnancies and rushed marriages and divorce and dirt and lies and disappointments.

Life is messy. It’s fucking glorious. But it’s messy. And anyone that tells you that theirs isn’t is serving you a big fat lie. We are all beautiful and awful all at once and there is no shame in fucking up and there is no shame in getting out and there is no shame in getting divorced or leaving someone you are supposed to love or running away… there is no shame in letting life be messy and gritty and ugly, as long as it’s honest. I’m finding the more honest I am about the shit the more great things are coming into my life. It’s like I’ve lived in an emotional shadow for so many years, in controlling relationships encouraged by my lack of self worth. Now here we are, out of the shadows and there is nowhere to hide.

There is no turning back into the darkness… all that lays ahead of us is bathed in light… gritty, messy, gorgeous, natural light.

I couldn’t be more pleased.

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  • March 31, 2014 - 5:48 am

    Elisa {With Grace & Eve} - Yes. Love your words, your clarity. And need that note taped to my mirror also xxxxReplyCancel

  • March 31, 2014 - 6:00 am

    margo - The first year is the hardest, you are not sure that you can do any of it…emotionaly, financialy, BUT you get there and move on and realise this didn’t happen TO you…. it happened FOR you, to go ahead with other possibilities for your life.
    Peace be with you.ReplyCancel

  • March 31, 2014 - 6:01 am

    Tahnee - Sash, every time I stop by it feels like you are even more honest than before. This right here – this is brilliant. I love your no bullshit honesty, so raw, so bare xReplyCancel

  • March 31, 2014 - 6:19 am

    Jen - I have no words to describe just how much I love this post. I do not love the awful heartache you have endured but I love how honest you are. This post speaks to me in so many ways but mostly I find it familiar and inspirational. Thank you Sash xReplyCancel

  • March 31, 2014 - 7:25 am

    Sarah - Yep, Tahnee took the words right out of my mouth (or fingertips!) With every day, every time we visit you, Sash, you are more open and honest than before. It keeps us coming back, for no bullshit, the good and the bad – just real life.

    Keep chanting that mantra (it’s a brilliant one! I too have it on my mirror), keep loving, nurturing and teaching that glorious little lady, and continue to love yourself.
    Here’s to a beautifully real week!

    Sar xxReplyCancel

  • March 31, 2014 - 7:36 am

    Allison - There is a beautiful song by Ellie Holcomb called Marvelous Light that this post reminds me of. Thanks for bravely sharing your journey.ReplyCancel

  • March 31, 2014 - 7:38 am

    Jessica - Sash, your writing just fills me with so much hope. I’m not even going through anything particularly relevant to your situation, But as a 19 year old young woman, I look up to your morals and your determination with great admiration. Thanks for sharing such brilliant brilliant words.
    Hoping you continue to lean on your love of life in the hard times. xxxxxReplyCancel

  • March 31, 2014 - 9:53 am

    Emma Galloway - I love you Miss Sash. Seriously.ReplyCancel

  • March 31, 2014 - 9:58 am

    Angela - And she said let there be light, so it was. XxReplyCancel

  • March 31, 2014 - 5:05 pm

    Joanne - Sash, I have been there too. Life is very much like a roller coaster full of ups and downs; but even through the uncertainty of it all, know that you are loved and admired by your many readers. Your wonderful prose not only helps to heal you, but helps others too to put things into perspective.
    Sending you Kiwi love from London xxxReplyCancel

    • March 31, 2014 - 5:58 pm

      Sash - Ah, how kind of you Joanne! Love me a bit of Kiwi love.. some of my favourite people in the world have Kiwi blood in their veins.

      xx Love to you from Aus to London!ReplyCancel

  • April 1, 2014 - 12:51 am

    ems - Ya! to your strength and honesty. i love your blog its a rollercoaster just like life. i meet my hubs when i was travelling in new zealand we got married when i was 20, im now 38 and we have 2 boys. But wow! it has been tough, sucked many times but has been awesome too, i love your honesty. Heres love from the uk to you and Bo hope loadsa glorious stuff is coming your way, im sure it is xxxxReplyCancel

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