I woke up at 01:45am this morning and I couldn’t go back to sleep.
Thoughts about my divorce just kept flying through my brain. The reasons, the things my ex husband said, the bulimia, my mom and dad crying with me in a parking lot. All those thoughts just flooded me and I was overpowered by shame.
I kept panicking about what A’s parents are going to say when they find out. Will they like me less and respect me less.
Sometimes I just feel so much guilt because I feel that A is the sweetest most incredible man and he deserves to be with a woman who wants the pretty white dress and who has idealistic views and is still naive and filled with innocence. I know this is just my ex husbands voice speaking to me, telling me that I am used up goods. I just can’t help these thoughts however.
I’m terrified of what his family will think when they find out about the eating disorder and the depression and the divorce.
I know I shouldn’t feel this shame, because my past is a part of me. And if it wasn’t for my past I wouldn’t be with A right now. So it has all happened for a reason.
It’s the past and it’s over and it does not define me. Yet It causes me a lot of anxiety as to what they will think when they find out the truth about me.
Forget the mirror. Forget the folds when you pinch your sides, the days you spend wishing some parts of you will melt away, or disappear, pinch your neck, your arms, your thighs, take everything out. As a young girl you wished you could use knives to make it all disappear.
But you were always meant for so much more.
You’re a woman and you can do anything and achieve anything and be anything you want to be.
Its the century where we have the world at our hands and we chose to be thin and we chose to be pretty. Intelligence, kindeness, perseverance and strength didnt appeal because Anna and Mia defined strength as something else.
Forget them. Forget the mirrors and the whispers form others. The magazine covers, the false idea of beauty and strength. Forget them.
Clench your fists and tighten jaw and take it back. Be the woman you were born to be.
Life is too short to live one life and it’s way too short to waste. It’s too precious and its too special to spend all your energy on hatred for yourself. Life is a gift and your body is the only home you have. Why destroy your home?
Forget what they say because it doesn’t matter.
You can be whoever you decide to be. Take back what the illnesses stole and be the woman you were born to be.
If you told me a year ago that I would be this happy right now. I wouldn’t have believed you.
I knew I would recover from the divorce and the eating disorder. That I would adapt to living alone in a tiny apartment, that I would love myself, that I would love again and start new relationships. I knew it would happen. But at the same time there were times where I felt paralysed in the pain and stuck and I felt scared.
I knew I would never be the innocent girl I was. I knew my views would change and that life would be different. I got divorced at 25, was accused of having affairs, harassed and slandered. Things were never going to be the same again and I was never going to be as carefree and as naive. I knew things would be different.
What I didn’t know was; That things would be so much better.
That I would grow so much. That I would know myself better than ever and that my relationships with friends and family would become so much more meaningful and magical. That I would be confident enough to start my own business and be excited about the future.
And never would I have thought I would be in a relationship. I knew it would happen, but I could never have imagined this.
There are of course moments of insecurity and fear, but the belief and confidence and drive that I have gained is incredible.
I never imagined that it would be so much better…
So much more magical than it was…
And so much more magical than I could ever have imagined.
Tonight is the first night that I am spending at my flat, I have been at A’s house and my friends house and then at my parents. Tonight I am home and it feels so amazing, in bed writing with my candles lit and listening to music.
I honestly cannot believe where I am. The way my life has changed.
The person I am today and the person I was a year ago. How this past year has shaped my life in so many ways. The divorce and the bulimia and the depression. Having my whole life uprooted.
If I stop to think about it, if I really pause, tears come to my eyes. I am so incredibly lucky and fortunate.
Last year was the most difficult year of my life but I wouldn’t change a thing. All the pain and the heartache, I will never for one second wish that things were different.
I have grown so much. I am so proud of the woman I have become.
I don’t care if people judge the divorce, the eating disorder and the depression. I don’t care if I seem weak because i needed therapy, because I needed medication and I don’t care if someone says I should toughen up and get over the eating disorder.
I am so fucking proud of myself.
I am so fucking proud of my struggle!
Tomorrow is my last day in Israel. I fly to instanbul in the afternoon and then back home and I’ll arrive home on Monday at 11:30
I did it.
A backpack and a tent and no plan. I hiked around the Sea of Galilee and slept in my tent next to the Jordan river. I managed to get a volunteering job when I ran out of money. Sold my tent and a lot of my belongings to pay for bus tickets to explore the country a little more.
I did it.
I wanted to go home earlier. I didn’t want to stay for the two full months. I was all alone and I knew no one. No amount of adventure could replace the love I felt back home. I was tired of living outside of my comfort zone. There were so many days where I wasn’t sure where I was going to sleep or where I was going to fill my water bottle. It was tough. There were days where I lay on the grass trying to convince myself that it was not that bad. Moments where walking to the zavitan waterfall and falling asleep next to it with a bunch of medication didn’t seem like the worst idea. Where I had to just sit and hold the fear and depression and anxiety and let it pass.
I did it.
I met people that have changed my life forever. Seen the most beautiful sights. Walked roads and hiked up mountains and I have so many blisters that my feet will never look the same, if I went for a pedicure, I would get chased away.
But I did it.
There were times where I didn’t think I could do this alone. After my marriage I felt so small- like I would never be able to do anything alone. After being told I was a child, that I was self absorbed and not intellectually stimulating. I lost all confidence and I honestly felt that I was always going to be the little girl that I was made out to be. That my eating disorder would always control me and that I was weak and I had no willpower. That I would always need help and I would never be able to survive alone because I was too fragile. Because I looked like prey. ‘You have the voice of a little girl and you nice to everyone, you can’t go camping alone in Israel with no plan’ they said.
Well I did it.
I hitchhiked with strangers who didn’t speak my language, but with smiles and hand signals we managed to understand one another. Standing on the side of the road counting on the help of a stranger to get me from A to B. I will admit that I pointed the middle finger to every car that didn’t stop for me sadly. But I’m grateful to them either way.
I did it.
I connected with strangers and learnt that we are all just winging it. No matter where we are from, we all struggle and we all love and we all have a broken heart and a broken dream. But we all have hope and we all in this thing that we call ‘life’ and we’re all in it together.
So we did it.
With courage and resilience I made it through and it’s with a heavy heart that I say goodbye to Israel and goodbye to this chapter of my life.
We did it.
With my family and friends and every person that I met on this journey. It would never have been possible without all these incredible souls. I would have given up. But because of you all, I didn’t.
We did it!
Two guys that I met here at the hostel that are volunteering with me leave tomorrow!
So we did a quick hike this morning and now baking a farewell cake 😊
You meet so many amazing people along the way, saying good bye is always strange. You form such quick connections and make memories that will last a life time. Then all to say good bye to someone you most likely will never see again.
I’m the lucky one. The pretty one. The favourite one.
This is what my ex husband thought of me and my family, I was the lucky one and my sister was the underdog. My brother and I were lucky, we fitted in, we were closer to my parents and we were closer to each other. C was the outcast he said, she was the underdog. Perhaps that is why he was always so fond of her.
It must have been incredibly difficult for my parents raising C and it must of been incredibly difficult for C to grow up in our family. ‘You don’t understand how hard it must have been for her when you came along. You the little princess.’
When I was a teenager I always wanted to be like her. She was thin and she was beautiful. She wasn’t sticking her finger down her throat, she wasn’t cutting herself. She was always incredibly loving, a mother by nature, she was a caretaker. She got married a virgin.
Of course she rebelled, she rebelled the most out of us the three of us children. She was flawed, but she was herself and she was perfect to me. I wanted to be just like her once a upon a time.
She was the lucky one. She was the pretty one. She was the favourite one.
Thats how I saw it when we were growing up. Yes my brother and I are closer. I’m the princess, I am. I’m the firecracker and the risk taker and most say I am the favourite and the pretty one. I’m different and I’m a good listener and liberal and supportive. Does it matter? She’s pretty, she has set values, she’s the most wonderful mother. She is smart and she is driven. She is the one that is filled with love all around. She is happy and she is funny. She is a role model. She is kind and she puts family above all.
It doesn’t matter what we are or who we are. We are sisters. It never was and it never will be a competition. It doesn’t matter.
We are who we are.
We are the lucky ones.