I have a past. There I said it. Not a sordid one. I wasn't a stripper, didn't have sex with the football team, didn't commit any felonies (or misdemeanors).
My past is an abusive long term marriage. I'm not in one now. In fact, I am in the polar opposite marriage.
Riddick and I aren't perfect, in fact we are both basically dorks. But we are loving, god fearing, gentle dorks that respect each other and others, and try and stumble through this earthly existence without doing harm to anyone else.
We remind ourselves when we get tired and worn out from this life, that our reward is not here on earth but in heaven.
But, well actually, not but, more like a heavy pause.
This past weekend was a tough one for me, and in extension, Riddick. My past came to bite me in the butt in a way and through a person I did not expect. When you live a life with abuse and don't tell anyone, when you do tell people, you don't always get the support or understanding that you want.
Maybe they can't give it to you because they don't have it, or maybe they (like in this case) don't really get it, and probably never will.
So I'm looking to let go. Finally let go of all the hurts and just let people think what they want and be who they are, without me having the need for them to understand me.
I'll let you know how my journey goes, I'm nervous, frankly thinking I'll never be free, but I'm praying, praying like I mean it, and loving like I mean it so I'll keep plugging along.