The year I lost myself

My mom said it, and I can’t stop thinking about it. “Well, yeah your first husband took your self esteem to the place where your second husband ended up being an abusive narcissist. I’ve always been mad at him for taking you that low and leaving you there.”

That was 2013. The year my first marriage ended, my whirlwind romance with my second husband began, and then my whole life flipped all the way around without ever actually moving at all.

You see, the thing about that year is, that has always been the year I gave up. That’s the year of the maggots.

What do I mean? I have been working with kids for many years, I can handle lots of gross things, but you know what kids don’t have that trash cans do? Maggots.

Yeah, that’s a weird comparison, I know… but just go with me here, okay?

My first husband had just left me, it was a hot summer’s day and I missed the trash pickup. Which means the entire whole raw chicken that I’d forgotten to cook until it went bad and then threw in the trash was out there.

I don’t know how the maggots got to it in less than 24 hours, but oh, I learned a major lesson that day, and that is to never ever leave raw chicken outside anywhere ever.

This wasn’t some trash can I could just drive off into the sunset. It was labeled with a number that like tied it to my house– this thing had to be cleaned out. And I was incapable of doing it.

I remember giving up. I remember the moment it happened because it was the maggots. I gave up the day of the maggots.

And that’s when Kevin entered my life. He showed up, and he cleaned up the maggots. He was willing to do it, and I didn’t have anyone else to help me. Right there, right then– he had me.

So, this time, until I learn how to clean up my own maggots, that I caused… I can’t even start to heal.

That’s going to be a hot minute.