For 16 years I had played the role of wife and mother. I was very young when I married - 23 with an 18 month old daughter whom I loved more than life itself. I was determined to be the mom that I always wanted and to give my children the family life that I always craved. I immersed myself into being the best wift and mommy ever
I thought I did everything right. I was a member is good standing at church, kept a clean house, cooked healthy meals, 3 daughters always clean, well-dressed, hair done. Husband a well-respected deacon. I was a sabbath school teacher, choir member, bible study leader etc. Living across the street from the church, our house was like Graham Central Station on Sabbath with church "family" gathering for potluck dinners
I was a supportive and encouraging wife wife who helped him stare and run a business, To the outside world we were the picture perfect church going family running a successful business. My reality was something different.
Looking back, I realize that those were all HIS people. When I married him I not only took his name, but I accepted his religion, family and friends. I forsook people who I'd grown up with, my childhood friends and even some relatives because I thought I was in love and focused solely on my family life.
Don't get me wrong, my mom, g-mom, aunts, great-aunts and god-mother were always around; looking over me. They'd seen and or experienced it all before. They knew the intricate details that I tried to hide from the world. They knew what I didn't know yet
- that I had created a bubble for myself and my children and that one day that bubble would surely burst. I turned 40 in February of 2005 and that is the year my bubble finally burst. Grandmom, great-aunts were gone by then and my mom would be gone later that year. In March I finally got the courage to leave a loveless marriage that had turned out to be a total lie. That lead to me leaving my place of employment because that was tied to him and them mom died. I was left to deal with the aftermath all alone.
Being a product of a matriarchal family of strong black women, I had it in my blood to stand strong in what would be the journey of a lifetime. This was the toughest period of my life and I was all alone. I tried to remain faithful and encouraged. I thought " seven. Seven years and it will be done. Seven is the number for completion according to the bible. Well 7 years came and went and my life was still in turmoil. Now, to be honest, I bought a lot of it on myself. All the anger, bitterness, sadness, betrayal made me onery and I became my own worst enemy. So 7 years came and went so I thought EIGHT! Eight is the number for new beginnings! After 8 years things will get better. But I was still in a state of utter confusion, still very angry and hurt. I tried praying, writing - I did all kinds of things to keep myself busy and took it day by day. I wrote a book which was therapeutic but I realized that I was blaming EVERYBODY for what I was going through and that no one was really to blame. Not even me. This was just life. My life. My journey. and I had to find my way to my destination. The destination was to be HEALED EMPOWERED AND RESTORED.
I now understand that it is not about the DESTINATION; it is about the JOURNEY for the journey is where you grow. It is where the lessons are learned, wisdom is acquired and your character is developed.
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