A year ago I wouldn’t have believed you if you told me we’d be five months in to a global pandemic and life as we know it would be completely changed. I also wouldn’t have believed you if you told me that during that pandemic I would separate from my husband and move out of my home in to a small apartment.
2020 has been a year for unbelievable things. And once again life has demonstrated that a lot can change in a year.
I moved out of the home I’ve shared with my husband for the past nine years on May 16, eight days before my 38th birthday. I truly believe it was for the best… for both of us. And I take comfort in knowing that we tried to save our marriage. But in the end, it became clear that our marriage was irrevocably broken. I accept responsibility for the pain and damage I caused. I wasn’t always easy to live with. And I wasn’t always kind.
Some things just can’t be fixed. And sometimes people are simply incapable of giving their partner what they need or want. And eventually, you just stop asking. Some people learn to go without.
I am not willing to go without.
When realization punches you in the stomach, it fucking hurts. But whether you act on your newfound clarity or not, you’re in for discomfort no matter what. So you need to decide which discomfort you’re willing to take: the discomfort of fear, denial and your current situation; or the discomfort of taking action and implementing change.
I want more from life. And so I made the most difficult decision of my entire life… the decision to change it.
I attribute the work I’ve done on myself over the past six years for getting me to this point. It’s been a long, hard road. And I will be completely honest with you — some days the road feels insurmountable and I lay down and cry. Nothing about this has been easy. And although some days I feel so overwhelmed and sad that I can’t breathe, I have never once considered going backward. And as I sit here typing, tears streaming down my face, I take comfort in that. I know with absolute certainty I made the right decision.
This is the first time I’ve ever lived on my own. It’s been an adjustment. I am re-learning about myself and who I am and how I like things. I get lonely. I get scared. The pandemic doesn’t help. I don’t see many people. I go days without leaving my apartment at times.
But there are also good days and bright spots in my life for which I am beyond grateful. I am becoming my own friend. And my passion for cooking has returned. In fact, cooking in my small kitchen has inspired a new creative project that I am excited to share with you all soon. In the meantime, I invite you to follow Big Appetite.Small Kitchen on Instagram to see what I’m cooking up.