Tragedy or Fairy Tale?
Mr. Adams and I had a less than picture-perfect marriage for a long time…
In fact, just about six years ago I decided that I was going to leave him and get a divorce. I started searching for houses on the far east side of town to get as far away from the life we had together as possible (we lived in Dearborn at the time). You can thank a competitive real estate market for the fact that I am still married today. I was outbid on so many foreclosed homes in my neighborhood of choice that, by the time I finally closed on my tiny Cape Cod in East English Village, we had reconciled. So we sold our Dearborn house and the whole family picked up and moved to Detroit.Even so, it was still a far from perfect marriage — or even a good one. The incredible pain and sense of betrayal that comes from a near-divorce isn’t easily glossed over… I was reeling from some deep hurt and insecurities. I couldn’t — or wouldn’t — let my guard down. I kept one foot firmly planted in caution. We kept separate bank accounts. My name was the only name on the house. I made sure that I was always financially positioned to be on my own if I had to be.It’s pretty safe to say that I also kept my emotional bank positioned to be on my own if I had to be.
Going all in…
One of the biggest decisions I had to make when quitting my job last summer to start my own business, was the decision to let go of the past and be “all in” in my marriage. I had to give up suspicion and “What if?” and trust that my husband was going to completely care for me financially and emotionally. I had to make myself vulnerable again.Now, Mr. Adams has stepped up in big ways over the past few years — he has earned the right to be trusted. Still the decision wasn’t easy. Know why? Because I had to allow myself to believe that I could have one of “those kind of marriages” — the kind where my partner has my back and would take care of me.
Why is it so hard to believe that we just might have a happy ending?
Now, truth is, my husband could flake out on me tomorrow and run off to Mexico to live out his days as a beach bum. (He threatens it every winter after the first big snowfall, in fact.) This could all be a big huge mistake. I could become a laughing stock tomorrow. Or the SheHive could become wildly successful because my husband believed in me and my vision and supported me in launching it.
Only time will tell how this story actually ends, but I know I have the power to direct it’s trajectory — fear or faith, scarcity or abundance, tragedy or fairy tale. I choose fairy tale.So far, so good.
What story are choosing to believe about yourself right now?
Originally published at www.theshehive.com.