As I sat there on the side of the bed…. I felt the sickest, deepest pain I had ever felt in my life, my heart had been gutted. I suddenly saw inside of myself, those angry women that you see on the news in court rooms, lashing out at their ex-husbands and spewing hatred from every cell of their bodies. Ready to absolutely Kill. My first husband, father of my daughter had just told me that he had no intention of letting my daughter come back to live with me. After all he said, “you have been through a really hard time, and she is happy and settled with me, now for the first time in a long time”.
Nothing that I had ever experienced before in my life up to that point, and nothing that I have ever experienced since has ever equaled the bottomless pit of despair that I felt at that moment.
At 32, I had arrived absolutely no-where. Almost not surviving a very abusive eight year marriage I now had nothing to show for anything. I had to leave my second husband will the few things that I managed to throw into my bag as I literally ran out the door so he couldn’t physically catch me and hold me back. I jumped a Grey Hound bus from Las Vegas back to my fathers home in Southern California. There I sat, a glass of wine from the handy wine in a box that my dad had on hand and a bottle full of valerian root to calm me down. As I reflect on this moment from the me that I am today, I cry in appreciation, from somewhere deep inside of me, I was offered a quiet voice that said to me, “just focus on getting her back”. “No time to spend on anything else, anything else is a waste of precious energy”.
I did just that. Whenever the horrible feeling of loss started to bubble up inside of me, I turned my attention inward and imagined my daughter living with me in our place. I saw her coming home and telling me about her day and I imagined all the little details of us together. In two days I had found a job through a temporary employment agency, within weeks I was able to afford my own apartment. While my daughter still “technically” lived with her dad, she visited me the first night I moved in. We wondered the neighborhood, stumbled upon the local adult Theatre across the street, the door was opened, we wondered in, they were looking for volunteers. We were both excited, I volunteered to operate the stage lights and she volunteered as a stage hand. She was 12 years old at the time. We had rehearsals every single night, then when the play came out we had a Friday Night, Saturday Night, and Sunday Matinée. It had been two very long months, without her, but we were living together again. I learned something very important from this experience and I have come back to this lesson time and time again throughout my life….
Focus only on the goal. Don’t worry how you will be getting there, just see yourself getting there, and you shall arrive.