Lesbian log zero-seven-ten-twenty-one
There are so many questions on this path, and it’s hard moving forward when you question every decision before and after you make it, and while you’re making it. Did I make the right choice? Is this the right path forward? Will I ever be happy? Will I make it through this? Should I go back? Why can’t I let go of my fear? Why can’t I let go of old behaviours? Why am I always questioning everything.
I’ll admit there’s a tendency to overthink. You find yourself on unstable ground, the fear of landmines and quicksand with every step. There are not a lot of secure spots to place your feet those days. My mind is a constant battlefield of doubt. If I thought my self-esteem was bad before, this experience has brought it to new depths of nonexistence.
Sometimes, in a moment of clarity, you actually think for a moment that you might be on the right path forward. Hesitantly, you begin to feel a little confident in your decision, but the moment you stop and look around, you notice the terrain is unfamiliar and shadows play tricks on your eyes. Fear takes over and you can no longer trust the route you’ve chosen.
It’s hard to believe after more than two-and-a-half years, I’m still questioning leaving my marriage. I’m still questioning being gay. The problem is, when I’m in that state of clarity, I don’t question these things. I have moments of acceptance. I know why I’m here at this point in time, this existential crossroad. I understand intuitively that I have to keep moving forward. But too often, I seem to be running on automatic pilot, just putting one foot in front of the other because that’s the path I started, and I’m too afraid to fail at this too.
And there’s a nugget. I feel like I failed my marriage, my family and life in general. Twenty-eight years is a long time to invest in a path only to suddenly stop cold and realize you should have taken a left at Albuquerque. It’s hard to ignore the idea that the whole debacle was a huge life fail, which is tragic because in so many ways it was a wonderful life. There are so many wonderful things about my marriage to my best friend and the beautiful life we created that it’s really hard to imagine it was the wrong path all along.
I’ve asked myself many times that if I’d know any differently, would I have taken a detour? The point is mute, since I didn’t know I was gay at the time and a huge part of me is glad I didn’t. The time I had together with my ex and raising our beautiful family was worth the heartbreak and every tear when it ended. I will maintain that until the day I die. But when I did make that major life-altering discovery, that enlightenment set us on an uncharted path in new directions. Unfortunately, the changes seemed to happen so fast, I think we both got whiplash.
We couldn’t continue the path forward knowing I was gay. It wasn’t a life either one of us wanted. We could stay together, knowing we only had a part of each other or move forward apart and try to mend the missing pieces. Frankly, both options sucked. However, with a lot of talking, support and love, we realized we had to go with option number two. We both deserved the right to be loved for all parts of ourselves. It was a gut-wrenching choice, but deep down inside, in those moments of clarity, I know we made the right choice. Doesn’t make the fallout any easier.
Staying in those moments of clarity, or bringing them back when my mind has run amuck, is essential to peace of mind. When my thoughts get hijacked by fear, self-doubt and crippling self-consciousness, it’s essential to bring my mind back to a state of balance. Overthinking, fear and questioning just plops me back onto that battlefield and it catapults me right back to the beginning of my journey and into a world of chaos and distress. In those moments, it’s like the last two-and-a-half years of healing and growing didn’t exist.
Being hijacked by fear really should piss us off. It happens against our will. Our mind just decides, because of hormones, lack of sleep, a conversation with a friend, a video on TikTok or any other number of the millions of triggers out there, that it’s going to take over and run a well-worn self-sabotaging program, like a groove in a record, and just keep skipping.
The kicker? It’s damn near impossible to recognize when we’ve been hijacked! We get so caught up in the album and the songs we know off-by-heart, we don’t even realize the needle is stuck again. It’s like we zone out and fear takes over.
I used to meditate every day. I found it helped with my troubled mind. I’ve also used journaling throughout my life as a way to organize the chaos—getting the questions and self-doubt out, like verbal diarrhea is therapeutic. Whatever method helps calm the storm in your mind and helps you regain control over the runaway fears and thoughts that have hijacked your equilibrium, use it.
Fear doesn’t get to run the program. You do. Take back your peace. You embarked on this journey because, despite the inherent pitfalls ahead, you acknowledged an authentic truth. Don’t let the background noise creep back in until there’s nothing but static. Set the tuner to your higher Self. Find your calm centred voice and get back in touch with the truth that will set you free. You already know the answers.
In gratitude,
Marissa xo