The Leading Lady

5
92

There are two types of women in the films – there are the leading ladies and best friends. You, I can tell, are a leading lady. But for some reason, you’re behaving like the best friend.

(Author Abbott,  ‘The Holiday’)

It seems I’ve spent my life as the supporting actress.  I should be acting like the lead lady in my own life story, yes? What kind of woman is that?

The first Easter Sunday after my divorce was final,  a sheriff and constable came to “assess a situation and talk” with the father of my children as he sat in my driveway in his van waiting for unwilling children to leave with him for the holiday. He had already set one to tears, so two others had made up their minds not to leave with him. I can’t remember if it was he who called the police because I refused to force the children to go with him, or if it was I who called because he refused to leave my driveway without them.

One of the armed officers talked with him first, then the other took over when the first gave up the attempt to reason.  After talking with my former spouse, there was head shaking, deep sighs, and knowing looks exchanged between the two men as they looked in my direction. Out loud, one of them wondered “how anyone could live with…”

Then I heard it in my head that statement I’ve heard people say over and over: “what kind of a woman puts up with that for twenty-five years.”

Hmm, what kind of a woman…

The years leading up to my divorce were witness to my (former) spouse’s arrest for domestic assault, the sale of the house I designed and had built, and moving five of my children and myself seven times in three months.  We found, bought, and made livable an old house previously inhabited by hoarders and drug addicts, and survived together the first volatile year of an OCD diagnosis in one of the teens.

Two and a half years after my separation, my civil marriage ended in the judge’s chambers.

And it was “supposed” to be done.

I kept moving forward until I couldn’t move anymore.

But then new grief set in. It seems that all the healing and all the peace that I had begun to process at the beginning of the separation from him flooded over me like a tidal wave. I thought the divorce would propel me into the next role of my life, but I was caught up in the momentum of ‘moving on’ and lost track of each moment I was living.  I totaled my Suburban and within three weeks I totaled the Suburban that was loaned to me while I awaited settlement from the insurance company from the first accident. The second accident left me with a rib broken in two pieces. I kept moving forward until I couldn’t move anymore. I made more trips to the emergency room in two years as a single mother for stitches, snake bites, x-rays and unexplained pains than I had during my entire marriage. All of these things fueled the feelings of having failed when I decided to leave.

Further, I found that divorce did not end the memories, it did not end the flashbacks, and it did not stop the voices in my head calling me names and telling me that I am not “good enough”  for the starring role in his story.

But what it did do was end my role in his story. It took some time for me to realize it, but when I signed that decree, I was signing on for a new role. At times it seems I’m living more of a docu-drama than the Hallmark movie for which I had hoped. But what is important is that I now know that I am the leading lady in the story of my life, and I am definitely good enough for the part.

Previous articleThe Language of Love
Next articleAre You Too Much in Control?
Linda Turner
Linda Turner is a writer and photographer for her blog Dancing with Scapulars, where she chronicles the journey with her children toward Heaven. She earned a Bachelor of Science degree from Troy State University, with studies in Human Services, Corrections, and Criminal Justice, and is trained as a labor doula; she is presently trying to figure out on which of those paths she should trod the more. Linda's writing focuses on themes of healing, compassion, and moving forward through trials, drawing from her life experiences as a Catholic home-schooling single mom, as a mother of a childhood cancer survivor, and with her ministry as a photographer with Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep. She lives in the Texas countryside in a fixer-upper farmhouse with her flocks of children, sheep, and ducks, one German Shepherd- and far too many cats.
avatar
  Subscribe  
Notify of
Larry Tyler
Larry Tyler

Such a sad story. Very similar to what I went through many years ago, yet your story has courage and strength. It also has wisdom in that you knew what was best for you and your family and did it. Thank you for sharing such a heartfelt story.

Laura Staley

I feel your challenging story, Linda. When we get ourselves to some safety, the body finally begins to process the deeper traumas we lived in our lives-to heal, to find resilience, to really uncoil completely like a caterpillar turning to goo before reforming into a butterfly. You demonstrate much courage, wisdom, and fortitude in freeing yourself, in becoming the leading lady of your life. You are here. You matter. I celebrate your healing and evolving journey. May the cruel voices in your mind become quieter. May you continue to connect with high quality people. May you continue to find great peace, grace, and strength in the home of your soul. Thank you for sharing your difficult, rising strong story.

Lynn Forrester-Pitocco

With this healing or learning the boundaries in any relationship, one cannot do this without a strong sense of faith in the creator of all things, which you have.