The Togetherness Project

I've been feeling all sorts of emotions throughout the past few days. 

The truth is that most of these emotions have been extremely high. I have been so happy. 

But it's almost like my body was saying, "No! You can't be happy this week! This is the anniversary of the day your world fell apart." And I'd have to try and fight it off. 

Because the truth is that this anniversary IS hard and important and a big deal to me. I had my life planned out and part of that plan was being married and staying home with my babies and making more babies. That plan did not involve divorce. 

But I guess the reality is that most people don't "plan" to get divorced when they get married. 

And I guess the reality is that addiction can overturn a lot of your plans. 

The other day, a friend posted a Fight The New Drug article on Facebook. {Is it weird that it makes me smile when I see these articles being posted/shared?} If you're not aware of what FTND is or more specifically what "the new drug" is, this company brings awareness to the harmful effects of pornography. 

And maybe you know this about me or maybe you don't but I am a huge believer in what FTND promotes. 

Because not only have I studied the harmful effects of pornography for college courses. 

Not only have I met many people who struggle with pornography addiction. 

Not only have I come to know some pretty brave women who have had a great deal of marital strife directly related to pornography addiction. 

I have witnessed these harmful effects firsthand as a wife. 

And as I was a newly divorced woman, struggling to see any worth within myself, a friend pointed me in the direction of The Togetherness Project. 

And shortly after, I attended my first TTP conference. 

Since then, a lot has changed. 

When I first went through my divorce, I leaned a lot on the women in my TTP support group to help me understand the situations and feelings I was living through. 

I am so grateful for that time in my life. 

But I spent less and less time with my family and the friends who weren't a part of Togetherness. I didn't think they'd want to hear it and I doubted they'd even understand. 

I almost lost some of my dearest friends during this time. 

And since then, over the past two years, I've rearranged my boundaries of what these support groups look like in my life versus how much I rely on my friends and family. 

Because the truth is that they don't need to fully understand me to be there for me. 

And I had to learn that on my own through my experiences these past few years. 

(And boy was I lucky that they stuck around for me to figure that out!)

I no longer rely on The Togetherness Project support groups or participate in them often. 

A huge part of that can be attested to my healing process and needing to rely less on others. 

But Togetherness will always be a part of me. 

Always. 

Today, The Togetherness Project held it's very last conference in Midway, Utah. I had planned on going but then decided it wouldn't be the best thing for me right now. 

It was hard for me not to be there. 

There were so many people I wanted to see and connect with. 

I've spent a lot of today thinking about Togetherness and everything the founder, Jacy, has done for me personally by starting this foundation. 

Because of Togetherness, I was able to find resources that helped me realize a lot of missing puzzle pieces in my failed marriage, which brought a lot of closure for me. 

Because of Togetherness, I was able to be supported during some of my worst panic attacks. 

Because of Togetherness, I found another support group for eating disorders and was able to (with the help of friends, family, and a therapist) save myself at a point in my life where I was literally dying. 

Because of Togetherness, I have a whole slew of online friends who understand some of my darkest fears because they have endured very similar challenges. 

Because of Togetherness, I was able to meet many incredible women but two in particular who have stuck around during some of the messiest challenges I've faced. These two women live close to me and are two of my very best friends now. 

Because of Togetherness, I have answers and more questions and I have been able to learn some very beautiful things about myself and what I want out of life. 

When I was first introduced to Jacy's blog, I had no idea what that would spark over the next two and a half years. Some of it has been really dark and difficult but a lot of it has been life changing and beautiful. 

And I will forever be grateful to Jacy for being brave enough to create The Togetherness Project that has changed so many of our lives. 

As I've sat here today and reminisced about everything that has happened over this past two years, I am overwhelmed with gratitude for everything I've conquered and learned. 

I used to have this vision in my head of what my life would look like in my late twenties and this wasn't it. 

That being said, in so many ways, it is much better than what I had imagined. 

Vulnerability. 

Empathy. 

Compassion. 

I am so thankful for everything I have learned through The Togetherness Project. 

I am thankful for the message of hope that it sends to women who have found themselves in situations that are extremely dark and messy. 

And most importantly, I am thankful for the hope I have found in my own life to continue on despite the many times I wanted to give up. 

Three Years

 Three.

Three years ago, on this very night, was the last time I was in a serious relationship.
And I could pinpoint many reasons for that---two kids who keep me busy, working two jobs, being in school full time, struggling with an eating disorder and my self-worth, feeling betrayed/traumatized and wondering if I could ever trust someone again, my religious shift---so, so many reasons.

So many things have changed in the past three years. 

And although I wanted to casually date, I didn't want to be in a relationship for a while.

Because I got married at 19. NINETEEN! And divorced at 26. And I found myself not knowing what I even wanted out of a relationship and on some days, I've even questioned whether I wanted another relationship. I mean, the last one wasn't a walk in a park and honestly, that's kind of how most of my relationships have been.

But here I am, almost 29 years old, and I'm ready for a relationship. And ironically, now that I'm actually trying in whatever ways I know how, the dating gods have placed nothing in my path.

And I'm sitting over here wondering whether that means I'm just supposed to keep waiting or whether there's something I'm doing wrong.

I've tried online dating and am still currently on a few online dating sites and yet, online dating is not easy for me. Because I still have trust issues and meeting complete strangers is scary even if you don't have trust issues.
Also, what's with all of the perfect bodied, shirtless, tan, rich guys on the internet? Is this REAL LIFE? Has dating really changed that much since the last time I was single? Have men changed that much since the last time I was single?

Are there still real men? 
The kind that don't say on their profile, "I'm perfect and rich. I love to travel the world. Oh and I'm looking for zero drama." 
And not that I'm a drama queen but are there really people with ZERO amounts of drama in their life? Like they've never had a bad day where they need to vent? They've never gotten in an argument with a family member or friend or gotten their feelings hurt and just need their partner to listen while they talk?

Because if you date me, you're going to need to LISTEN TO ME sometimes. I will have bad days. I will complain. I will get upset.

I don't know. Often times, online dating is a huge turn off because it seems like everyone is looking for perfection and is that even a thing unless your Jesus? Is anyone really the perfect match?

If you think you've found that, you should feel extremely lucky because I don't really believe in perfect matches. I think the majority of us have found that relationships come with compromise.

Or that they're just non-existent, as has seemed apparent in my life for the past few years.

August has been really hard for me for the past few years. 

And as I'm trying to put myself out there and look for relationships in all the right places (since the only guys I seem to have crushes on these days are not guys I can date...yippee...I'm winning at life), I have found this new level of anxiety that has followed August right through my front door.

There was a guy I was talking to a month or so ago that asked me the dreaded question that seems to lose ALL GUYS once they hear the answer. "How long has it been since your last relationship?" Because it seems that the second I tell them it's been three years, they go running for the hills.
Well, this particular guy didn't. Instead he made a worse decision and asked if that was also how long it'd been since I've been intimate and if so, HOW WAS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE because he is struggling after only a couple of months.
Does anyone else see where he ruined his future relationship chances with me?

And it is after events like the one above that make me question whether online dating is really ok for me and whether it could even work. Because are there even guys out there who are compassionate and would be willing to "take on" my situation (that contains drama) and carry on deeper conversations and love me (despite all of the disorders that like to follow me around)? Does that even exist? And if it does, would one of you be so kind as to show me where it is I'm supposed to be looking for this unicorn man?

Gosh, I'd really appreciate it.

Tomorrow isn't an easy anniversary for me and it's hard not to look back at all of the pain and be frustrated that I'm still single and have no clue how to date three years later. Wasn't I supposed to be learning those skills somewhere along this path?

Hmm. 

Three years. 
Wow.
I'd like to be cliche and say that I can't believe it's been that long but in all honesty, I can. In fact, it feels like it's been longer.
I have accomplished so much on my own in the past three years and I'm proud of every learning curve I've fought through.

This has not been easy and it will continue to have highs and lows but I am a warrior and I won't ever give up.

So Maybe I Failed

Sometimes it’s hard or weird to reconnect with people through social media or in real life that I haven’t seen or heard from in the past 4+ years.

Because my first thought, my initial fear, is that they’ll look at the facts of my life and believe that I have failed.

And this is probably irrational because nobody has come up to me and said, “Hey Suzanne, you really failed miserably at that whole marriage thing. And now you're overweight with purple hair, a tattoo, and a nose ring. Sounds like the problem is YOU.” 

But more so than this being a rational fear, I’ve come to realize that it’s an internal fear.

And it’s not an internal fear because I just have this belief that people are critical of me. It’s an internal fear because I used to be that condemnatory, judgmental person. 

I cringe thinking about how I once was that person. 

Because if you just pray more or work harder in your marriage, those things don’t dissipate.

Right?

Wrong. 

I've learned a lot these past few years and one thing I've really come to know is that you can't judge a book by it's cover OR even by it's prologue. 

Because you won't get all the facts. 

And in truth, you may never get all the facts. Ever. 

Although I've talked about the "why" of my failed marriage, there are actually so many "why's". There are so many times we fought for each other and there are so many times we fought against each other. 

And as my husband was piecing his puzzle back together, I was also changing. I was growing and molding into this person that I very much liked---a stronger and more opinionated Suzanne. I started asking questions and learning more about why I am the way I am (Although, all that really did was give me a list of "disorders" on my medical records). 

I struggled with this love/hate relationship against myself because on the one hand, I've had a hard time with self-esteem and believing in myself but on the other hand, when I really sit down and think about it, I love the person that I am. 

It’s been a really hard summer for me. Finding babysitters for my kids and missing out on so much time with them has not been easy. Struggling through and then quitting my job teaching dance was not easy. Co-parenting is not easy (Will it ever be?). The anniversary of being on my own is coming up and that isn’t easy. Summer school was not easy (and I failed a class for the 2^nd time in my college career). 

There have been nights where I feel like I'm back to square one, where I lay in my bed and feel the anxiety take over like it used to when I first became a single mom. 

I feel all of this pressure to be a good mother and a good student and a good coworker and a good friend and one any given day, I'm sure to drop the ball in at least one category. 

And then some days, new conflicts arise and I think, "But it was already hard yesterday without this new conflict!" and I wonder how I'm going to keep going. 

But I do keep going. 

Although this summer has felt pretty messy, today in particular was not my best day. My anxiety was winning and I was just letting it win because I was tired of fighting. 

I was letting other people dictate my emotions and I was feeling really low when I pulled up a blog post (here) from one of my favorite public figures, Glennon. 

And as I read about her separating from her husband, her words hit me with such strength. 

There is a excerpt from her post that I wanted to share here because she says it far better than I could ever describe.

"But what can happen over time is this: You wake up one day and realize that you have put yourself back together completely differently. That you are whole, finally, and strong – but you are now a different shape, a different size. This sort of change — the change that occurs when you sit inside your own pain — it’s revolutionary. When you let yourself die, there is suddenly one day: new life. You are Different. New. And no matter how hard you try, you simply cannot fit into your old life anymore. You are like a snake trying to fit into old, dead skin, or a butterfly trying to crawl back into the cocoon, or new wine trying to pour itself back into an old wineskin. This new you is equal parts undeniable and terrifying.

Because you just do not fit. 

And suddenly you know that. And you have become a woman who doesn’t ignore her knowing. Who doesn’t pretend she doesn’t know. Because pretending makes you sick. And because you never promised yourself an easy life, but you did promise yourself a true one. You did promise – back when you were putting yourself back together – that you’d never betray you again." 

As I read this, I just sat there, nodding my head. Because this thing that I was so worried about---the silly critics and their uneducated judgments---does not need to exist inside of my mind, even if it exists in reality. 

Because I have put myself back together differently. I am a completely different person than I used to be. 

And when I put myself back together, I did it more carefully. I thought about what I wanted out of life and what I felt the point of life even was. 

And after every messy thing I've been through, I've learned that the person I need to stop betraying is myself. 

Because when the kids are in bed at night and I'm sitting all alone, I'm all I've got. And I need to be able to trust and love this person that I am so that when things are hard (which is inevitable on occasion), I can rise up like the warrior that I am and fight for myself. 

When Change Is Scary

 It all started with a tiny little 3 year old.

We signed her up for dance lessons out of someone's renovated garage-turned-dance-studio, mostly because I was a dancer and we thought it'd be a cute thing for her to try out.

And then she turned 4 and we found a studio that was recommended to us by some friends.

And that tiny little girl started taking two classes---one of those classes being a team prep class to prepare her for team tryouts the next year.

And then she turned 5 and made the SNS team where she danced 4 hours a week.

 And her second year of team, at age 6, she was asked to do a solo by one of her teachers and she STOLE that stage. She was beaming and I saw this fire in her eyes. That first solo experience really cemented her commitment and love for dancing. She had such a great experience on that stage and I'm so glad we chose that, even though she was a little young at the time.

Here is a video of that solo---adorable.

 When she turned 7, I was hired as an acro/stretch/tumbling instructor at a new studio and we moved her there.

Those people quickly became her family. I found myself teaching and assisting 6+ hours most weeks in the acro/technique/jazz/team classes and our family practically lived at the studio. She chose to take 10+ hours of classes each week and grew so much as a dancer.

 She competed another solo and it got better every time.
Every. Single. Time.
It was a lot more difficult and she spent a lot of extra time figuring out the counts and the acro tricks and making sure she was ready for the stage.
And each time she hit that stage, she was ready for it and you could see her enjoying those two minutes of "fame".

 And by the time she turned 8, most of her afternoons at home looked like this. {Seriously, those muscles...}

But sometimes hard things happen outside of our control and when the extremely difficult decision was made last week that I was quitting my job at our then-current studio, it caught this little girl in the crossfire and she got burned.

And she was not happy. I mean, why would she be happy about something like that? I wasn't even happy about it. It's been a week and I am already aching that I don't have the job title "dance instructor" anymore because teaching children to dance was quite possibly the most rewarding thing I've ever done (besides motherhood).

But this ache wasn't about me anymore because more than anything else in the world, I want to support her and find a way to let her do the things she loves.

And so I reached out to a friend and she suggested doing trial classes at her studio.

And for the very first time in Hayley's life, no tears were shed as she walked into this new place to take classes with children she didn't know.

Because I can remember the tears from her first studio class and how she cried both years she tried out for team. And I remember so vividly when she tried out for company a little over a year ago how she cried through the majority of it because new things overwhelm her sensitive little heart so much.

 Although she was a bit nervous, she walked in and joined the class and begged me to let her take every single class she could this past week.

And when a full hour of stretch class had her tired and sore and I told her she didn't have to take the next day's stretch class, she still wanted to and we went back the next day for another hour of stretching.

It isn't that Hayley is MORE amazing than other kids.
That's not the point of this post.

The point is that my sensitive, shy daughter has gone through a few hard things in her life and she is learning and growing and finding her own bravery in the process.

In fact, as we were eating dinner after her first night of classes, she said to me, "Mom, you can just drop me off at the studio tomorrow...because I'm already THAT brave." 

And she is THAT brave. 

She has now started her second week of classes at the new studio and this morning, we got an email inviting her to join the Micro Company team.

To say she is ecstatic would be an understatement. 

Change is hard for our family and it seems like we've seen a lot of huge changes over the past four years but through it all, it's been a really beautiful thing for me to see all of us learning and growing from the things we've been through.

More than anything, I just feel extremely lucky that I get to be the mom of this brave little girl.
I get a front row seat to watch her grow up and learn and be in new situations and when she has hard times, I get to be the one she comes to and cries with.
I'm so lucky I've been trusted with the job title "Mom" because that is more important and rewarding than being a dance teacher, a therapist, or any other job titles I might have.

I see great things in this girl's future and I am so proud to be her mom.

If It's Worth Doing

I had a dream once.

I had a dream that I was married---and I felt whole again, as if marriage is the only thing that could fix ALL of the other problems in my life.

I had a dream that I co-parented well and that my kids never had to feel split between their parents.

I had a dream that I never got upset with my ex-husband and that forgiving him is something I'm NOT still working on.

But in reality, I'm not married and I don't always co-parent well and I often get upset with my ex-husband. 

And I've been told on countless occasions by numerous different people that I need to forgive him and move on. In fact, over and over, I've convinced myself that I have fully forgiven him.

But I don't know if that's always true. 

I can remember when my husband first left me and I begged and pleaded with my family and friends to love and support him, to talk positively about him so that this would all be easier.
And I remember when I got to a point where I begged and pleaded with them to stop liking him so much, to focus on supporting me and my kids so that this would all be easier. 

'So that this would all be easier'

I guess I don't know what makes this all easier because it isn't easy. It's messy no matter what. And I'm still trying to figure out my relationships and boundaries and how to navigate a relationship with not only my ex-husband but also our shared relationships.

I get insecure about my divorce because of the little details, the memories from those first few traumatic months where I was literally just surviving day to day.

And I get triggered by the memories from my marriage, the memories where I look back and think, "I should've done something differently. I should've said more. I should've said less. I should've loved more. I should've cared less. I should've..." And I could go on and on with SO MANY things I should've done to change the circumstances of my life but I don't believe that actually would've changed anything.

I go through periods where I like my ex-husband and frankly, I go through periods where I don't like him.

And I'm not good at being an ex-wife. Oh my goodness, I'm not. In fact, I'm horrible at it. I am overly protective of my kids and I am not always patient and I let old memories dictate present situations.

I'm trying to work on it. 
I am working on it. 

But it's hard because I feel like if I can't step up to the plate as an ex-wife, maybe I wasn't a good enough wife. And when I start to think that, I have to remind myself that I'm doing the best I can. I'm trying to be a good person who sees others through Jesus' eyes and understands that we all act crappy sometimes and make mistakes.

But. It. Is. Still. Hard.

None of this is easy to explain. It isn't necessarily hard to talk about---I'm ok with admitting that I fail at being a co-parent or an ex-wife sometimes---it's just hard to explain in a way that dictates the things that I'm feeling.

The truth is that I still struggle with resenting my ex-husband for the choices that were made that got us where we are---and although I don't think about them often, I still find myself spiraling when I miss something in my children's lives because of the co-parenting situation we are in. I still get angry that I have to 'share' my children instead of us just being a family.

But that doesn't mean I don't love the life we are living.
My children are so blessed. I am so blessed.
We have SO MUCH.
We are thriving and for the most part, life is really happy. It's just that when it is hard, it is usually really hard.

But we are resilient.
I am resilient.

And someday, probably when I'm 80, I'm going to have this 'ex-wife' thing figured out.

But in the meantime, I am going to have to learn that it's ok to fail sometimes. 

I can remember back to two years ago, almost exactly, and sitting in a new therapists office (which I was really unhappy about because I didn't want to have to start all over) and telling her how fighting my eating disorder wasn't worth it because every single day, I failed. At that point, it had been MONTHS without even ONE day of success.
And she said to me, "Suzanne, is it worth fighting your eating disorder? Is your life worth the fight?" And I replied, "Yes." 

And she said, "If it's worth doing, it's worth doing poorly." 


I kept that motto close to my heart as I struggled to pull myself out of the hole I had dug. When I'd fail, I'd give myself grace and remember that if it was worth doing, I wasn't going to give up just because I was fighting poorly.

I was still fighting. And that HAD to count for something. 

So now that I'm here, in a completely different life than two years ago, fighting similar things but also some very different things, I have to remind myself that this fight is worth it---no matter how I fight it.

So maybe I suck as an ex-wife but it's worth it to me that I keep trying, that when I fail and I get angry or selfish, I take some time, pick myself back up, and try again the next time.

And goodness sakes, I am not the best at co-parenting. It's hard work! But when I fail, I am going to give myself grace and remember that I will have many opportunities to figure this thing out.

And maybe I go back and forth between forgiveness of the past and letting it trigger feelings inside of me in the present but that's ok because I am working on this every day of my life.

And this fight to understand others who have hurt me and feel compassion toward them? It's worth it. It will always be worth it.

And if it's worth doing, it's worth doing poorly. 

Child Dedication + An 8 Year Old

 This is another one of those vulnerable-ish posts that I'm still a little unsure of how to explain but I'd like to try explaining...sound good?

When I left the LDS church last year, it wasn't abrupt and it wasn't out of hate and I feel like I need to express that second part over and over again when in reality, I don't actually have to explain myself---I choose to.

Hayley was 7.5 at the time and I was super panicky about her baptism age approaching and how this change would affect her. I wanted her to have her normal routine---and so I kept going to LDS church on the Sundays I had my kids. And then when I stopped going altogether, she went with my best friend's family for a while.

But she was 7 and her testimony was more cemented in her parents faith than her own---as it is with the majority of our children.

I left the baptism choice up to her and she went back and forth with it.

She came to the conclusion a few months ago that she wasn't ready but asked if I'd buy her a big white dress as a birthday present because she didn't want to miss out on that present.
Done.

I spent the majority of my nights in April praying over and over that she would be able to feel loved and included and special when it came time for her big 8th birthday. I asked God what I could do to take the pressure of baptism off of her shoulders and I firmly believe that He followed through and answered that prayer because shortly after, my church advertised child dedications that would be happening on Mother's Day 2016.

I felt very strongly that this was a gift from God to us because instead of putting the pressure on Hayley, the dedication puts a healthy amount of pressure on me.

If you're not familiar with dedications in a Christian church:
"Child dedication is not a sacrament like baptism or communion—you won’t find instructions for it anywhere in the New Testament. There’s nothing magical about it—it doesn’t save your child or guarantee that they will eventually come to trust Jesus as Savior and Lord. However, child dedication can serve as a powerful moment, for both family and church, as both parties commit to working together to raise the child in a way that honors God." source

So on May 8th, 2016, I made a promise to raise Hayley and Andersen with a knowledge of who their Heavenly Father is. All of the vows had meaning and were important but my favorite was #4:

"Do you dedicate yourself to raise your children with biblical love, instruction and discipline? Will you take every opportunity that life gives you to diligently teach your children to love the Lord Jesus and observe all that he commanded, knowing that your primary responsibility as a parent is to train your child to be Jesus’ disciple?"

Friends, it was a beautiful day and we were so thankful to the people in our lives who came and supported Hayley and Andersen. In fact, I'm just so grateful for everyone who supports and loves Hayley and Andersen! 

And with that explanation out of the way, I need to acknowledge the fact that I HAVE AN EIGHT YEAR OLD CHILD!!!!!!!!! 

From the time she was little, Hayley always had this huge heart. She was this tiny little girl who would feel compassion toward others. Often times, when she'd hurt her brother or someone else, she would end up in tears because she felt bad for the choice she had made.

Hayley was also born with a lot of sass. She pulls off the duck face better than anyone I know and likes to snap her finger and raise her eyebrows at me---and usually it isn't when she's arguing, she just thinks it's funny.

Hayley is so very, very bright. She loves to read and does really well in school. (Besides homework...homework is another story but she promises me 3rd grade is going to be different.)

Hayley is not only a talented dancer, she is a dedicated dancer. If you ask her, she'll tell you that, yes, she is quitting dance and trying a new sport---when she turns 18. She says up until that point, she won't be quitting dance. :) She works hard to get new tricks and has grown leaps and bounds on RMDC's dance company this past year.

This last picture is of Hayley on her birthday at ages 6, 7, and 8. My goodness, this girl brightens my life.

She is very responsible and gorgeous and happy and compassionate, among SO MANY OTHER amazing qualities.

I am so lucky that God blessed me as the mother of this darling girl forever and ever. She is one of a kind and anyone that knows her knows it.

Andersen Swallowed A Magnet

Oh, Andersen...

I love you. 
I really, truly do. 

Even on the days when I want to hide in a corner because you're not listening to me.

And because I love you, I'd do anything for you. 
Anything. 

Even if that means spending my morning off of work getting abdominal x-rays with you because you swallowed a magnet.

A magnet, dude? I'm trying to picture a scenario where you would've thought to put a magnet in your mouth. And even though I can't, you did indeed swallow a magnet.

And your first thought wasn't to tell mom. Nope, your first thought was whether I'd be upset so you kept it a secret.

Weeks went by and you didn't tell me there could be a magnet inside of your little tummy.

Until last night. 
Last night, you came over to me with those huge puppy dog eyes and said, "Mom. I have to tell you something..." and then you told me how you had swallowed a magnet a few weeks ago and now you were scared because your stomach was hurting really bad and you thought it was the magnet.

Little dude, I just love you. I love how worried you get and how compassionate you are. I love how you make me laugh and comfort me when I cry.

So because I love you and would do anything for you, I don't mind spending the morning getting x-rays with you. In fact, I loved our morning together while sister was at school. I loved listening to you tell me story after story after story with some of the greatest details.

I love you a billion trillion infinity and I'll always be here for you. On your good days and your bad days, I'll always be near.

I love you, Andersen. So very, very much, I do.