In the land of private privilege, quiet luxury, well-resourced convenience, pedigreed names, old-money casual with a new-world accessibility- I found myself behind the hedges. Walking on Main street in a pair of distressed jeans and Chanel espadrilles, I caught a glimpse of my reflection as I zipped up my Celine nano, blinded by the white diamonds and pink sapphires shining on my left ring finger, courtesy of the man who made me a wife and gave me our son. Who was that woman looking back at me: so effortlessly chic with her hair up in a messy bun leading what looked to be a perfectly manicured life? Was that me? Yes it was. It was the present-day me. What a stark contrast to the last time my own reflection made me stop in my footsteps - i remember that day too vividly, but that is for another post, another story.
Ten years ago I was numbing the pain of a devastating heartbreak. I was unraveling into my addictions. Pills for breakfast, liquid lunches, lonely dinners - falling into the arms of strangers with desperation I don't care to recall. What a difference ten years can make. Today I am walking into 64 Main Street to pick up a custom-made outfit designed by Jonathan Simkhai for the annual fireworks celebration at 1030 Meadow Lane.
Eight years ago I was learning how to have my feelings without spiking them with toxic artificial sweeteners like Xanax and vodka. It was a new way of being for me. I couldn't remember the last time I felt my emotions, raw. I only remember running from them in search of a bandaid like food, exercise, pills, men, shopping, achievement, starvation, approval.....anything that would make the bleeding stop quickly....anything that would keep me from seeing the blood drip slowly...anything that would just make me stop feeling. Newly sober and unemployed, back living with my parents, still reeling from my heartbreak - you could say I was going nowhere fast.
Tonight I'm lounging outside by the pool. I look around the property, with the 20-feet tall well-clipped hedgerows of privet maintaining our family's privacy. My husband getting ready to jump into the pool to cool off after his workout. Our son is running around the perfectly hydrated yard, laughing each time the automatic sprinklers get him wet. He is joyful, he is blissful, he is God's grace, he is perfection. This is the life we were blessed to create. This is the life I prayed for.
Five years ago John asked me to marry him. He gave me the emotional security I longed for - the safety I was searching for. His love was stable, his love was lasting. Deep down I knew this, I felt this. But I struggled with the conflict between the person my family expected me to be and the person I actually was. Reconciling the simple truth with the contrived expectations ate me up. I was so much more than the "forced ideals" my parents set out for me. The centuries old archaic infrastructure of how I should feel, who I should love, where I should live, when I should speak - drowning me in shame - I couldn't be that formulaic. I tried my best, nearly losing my life in the effort to fit that mold. In my truth - I was freer, more loving, more compassionate, more open. As my husband says - don't be afraid to play big in the world. I didn't want to be afraid any more.
Last month we celebrated our eight-year anniversary of the day we met. Something felt different that afternoon on the summer solstice... as the sun shined high and my heart felt less heavy. What was that feeling? that levity, that foundational stability, that deep connection...it was God doing for me what i couldn't do for myself. This moment feels equally profound - as we pack up our things with comfortable ease, no rush, no urgency. this feels natural. this life of playing big, being bold, full of gratitude while maintaining the quietness of humility...we have arrived, we are home.
from behind the hedges - xoxo,
ElyVas
No comments :
Post a Comment