Moments.

Sometimes I have my moments and the idea creeps into my mind: What if I’m destined for a life of solitude?

I’m being a little melodramatic given that I have a beautiful family who would never leave me in complete solitude — they’re literally always around. And I also have two amazing children who will always be a part of my life and I of theirs, whether they like it or not.

But it’s that desire for companionship. That want for someone to lay in bed with at night and talk to and tell them about all of my ideas and tell them about my day. I remember those conversations with R. They weren’t very often but when they’d happen over coffee in the morning or late at night before bed, I savored those moments and I still hold them close.

There were many times that I wanted to walk away from that marriage but I’d remember about those tiny moments and I’d think, “If we can create a handful of those memories, then I can stay just a bit longer…” And on it went, I’d stretch it and stayed.

So often people settle because it’s comfortable and familiar and because there is so much history, but those are moments we lose out on. I can reflect and think of all the years I could have saved myself but I try not to dwell on it because it’s a part of who I became.

Thanks to that relationship I grew as a woman and learned to love and take care of myself more, in order to be kinder and more loving in everything else that I do. I was married for 12 years and all those moments, the good ones and the bad ones, they helped shape what I eventually want from someone.

I stayed after he told me he was no longer attracted to me because the moments before that awful moment were beautiful and dear. I won’t ever forget that time, there I was 27 and had just given birth to our first child 6 months earlier. It was a summer afternoon and our baby was napping. We quietly walked to our bedroom and began to caress one another, but something was not quite right.

He looked at me and then turned his back to me. I laid there, half-naked, pulling the blanket over me, tucking it under my arms, “What’s wrong?”

He sighed and shrugged.

“Is everything OK?” I leaned over and put my hand on his shoulder.

“I just don’t find you attractive anymore,” he said.

Typing those words still hurts me. Placing myself at that moment is still heart-wrenching. It was a moment that I can’t ever forget and especially to someone who had always felt insecure about her body, those words destroyed me.

I turned away from him and cried into my pillow and wished for the baby to wake up so I could walk out of there. After a few moments, I got up and got dressed and figured I should start exercising and eating better, we had better moments besides this one moment.

Things like that continued through the course of our 12-year marriage and in that particular moment, I was unemployed and living in another state away from family, with a newborn. I wanted to make it work regardless of that comment, though I never forgot those words. I suppose I also feared that what if something better would never come? It was that fear that also made me stay in such an unhappy marriage: what if this is the best that’s out there for me?

I continued to work towards making us happy and whole. There were other times not quite like that one that make me laugh or smile. R had a way of finding one specific thing that I loved and he’d do it over and over. He knew I loved coffee in the morning and before he would walk out the door for work, he would come to kiss me in my foggy, sleepy state and tell me he loved me and that the coffee would be ready when I woke up.

Or the time he was there for the birth of our son, holding my hand during the c-section and reassuring me as I looked around in fear. He was so nurturing and thoughtful in those moments. He saw what I went through and for a little bit, I felt that he appreciated me wholly.

All those moments, the big awful ones, the sweet small ones, they all shaped my vision of how I wanted to be treated. As time past and I realized that ‘on my own’ was when I accomplished more. I began to realize that I was being dragged down and towards the end, he would say it: You don’t need me, you’re better without me. I just drag you down.

I can’t be angry about how I navigated that marriage. Everything I did in those moments was thought out because I had to make it work at that time. I learned. I grew up. I learned that I was more resilient than I ever thought. I learned that I was smarter than he gave me credit for and that I could do so much better. I relied a lot on a beautiful group of women who I needed in those moments and whether they knew what was happening or not, they helped carry me through some very hard times.

Moments. As that one saying goes, life is not measured by time. It is measured by moments. And songs… I definitely have a soundtrack for every moment of my life. But that’s for another post.

The biggest take away from my experience is that in my current life I am experiencing and living a much more fulfilling life and though the doubt of finding someone at my age casts itself on me from time to time, I know it’s because all those experiences with R — the good ones and the bad ones — shaped for me the idea of what I deserve.

Maybe there is someone out there who can fulfill me and maybe not, but for now, I will create as many moments as time allows with my kids, my family, and friends… And I will continue learning and growing.