This weekend I was supposed to do something empowering and freeing.
I had planned on attending a weekend of workshops for late-blooming lesbians who were married to men. It’s a yearly event. I wasn’t able to go last year, but this year, I was going to be there…no matter what.
I didn’t go.
Instead I met with a group of college girlfriends, more than girlfriends really…my sisters in a sense. It was a gathering that was long overdue. It had been years since we’d all been together in one place, so it was a Saturday well spent.
I wasn’t supposed to be there.
I was supposed to be with a different group of other women. Women going through the same thing I am. Women who needed to purge their hearts and feel the rare comfort of being among sisters in another sense.
My reason for not attending the workshops wasn’t because of the conflict that arose with my college friends. I had planned a while back, when I learned that both the dinner and the workshops fell on the same weekend, that I would postpone the dinner with my girls to get the help I felt I needed.
I didn’t go because it would have cause even more turmoil at home. In a relationship that is already dead in the water, so to speak, that may seem silly. At this point, who cares about more turmoil…live your life, honey!
But I do still care. I care about keeping the peace and finding a calm way to maintain some semblance of decorum as my husband and I move toward the point of no return. We both already know where we’re headed. There’s no need to throw even more coal on an already out of control fire. I meet with a divorce lawyer tomorrow. My time for living freely is soon.
So despite my disappointment at not going to the workshops— on missing out on something that would have probably been incredibly freeing AND for not being that woman to middle finger everything and do whatever the hell I want— I had an amazing time reconnecting with my girlfriends. I missed them and was more than happy to spend an evening with my amazing, intelligent, and incredibly smart sisters. They don’t know about my drama yet. When they find out I have no doubt they’ll be as supportive and loving as they always have been. So no…the weekend wasn’t a bust by any means. Far from it.
And there’s always next year.
Still moving ahead.