The Fight to Get Here

Recently, an agent stopped me in my office hallway and gave me perhaps the best compliment I could receive, “Jen… you look really happy.”

I paused, tilted my head in surprise, and responded with, “… you’re right. I am!”

But gesh, I’m not happy because circumstances are perfect. I have tough days and crap hits the fan sometimes. I’m not happy because I have it all figured out, I’m happy because I’m happy with ME and I fought hard to get here. 

I fought to uncover the best version of myself I could dream up (it’s still a work in progress btw).

That meant I had to walk through a lot of pain and discomfort to get here. 

I began this journey by leaving a career that I had spent over ten years in, obtained two degrees that cost me nearly $100,000 in student loan debt, and I was just barely scraping by. Now, what I jumped into is one of the most glamorous industries you can imagine.

I became...drum roll please... a Realtor.

It was one of the most gut-wrenchingly difficult decisions that went against all logic, and also one of the best decisions of my life. I knew it was right. Thank God I listened to me. I could not be more in shock, awe and gratitude for how that road has brought me to my position now. 

Around the same time, I left my church job as the foundation of my religious beliefs began to shift. It was after my brother passed away, and then more shifting and some crumbling when my Dad died. It wasn’t their deaths per se, that caused me to question life after this earth. Rather, it was their deaths that made me realize just how short life can be. Their deaths made me question EVERYTHING. It was this visceral response causing me to fight like hell for MY best version of life. One where I would find my greatest joy, so that I can share my best self in a way that helps others do the same. And it just so happens that my spiritual beliefs came under some serious scrutiny. 

In order to incubate and self-discover, I couldn’t risk anyone fracturing what I was beginning to build. And very transparently, I couldn’t emotionally handle defending myself. I was already weary enough. This meant I ended up leaving my church community and all my close relationships. While I’m certain that not everyone was judging me. I got my fair share of “I’ll pray for you” and when word of my divorce got out, I got more “Is there hope for reconciliation?” and “We’ll be praying you can mend things.”  I’m certain those were well-intended comments. However, it seemed that I couldn’t be embraced as any form of “new me.” I would constantly be questioned and encouraged to doubt my instincts so that I’d stay in line with doctrine and rules. Where I came from there wasn’t much gray. I’m grateful to say that I’ve found so much peace and joy in my faith now. It simply has a different shape and color.

And another huge hurdle you heard correctly, my marriage of 16 years to an amazing man came to an end. A man that I married when I was twenty years old. That was well before I knew the woman I’d become. I had to face some super hard realities in order to live the fullest, most true life possible. I couldn’t keep shoving myself in a box to make that relationship work. The more me, I became, the less connected we became. And I wasn’t able or willing to continue compromising myself. It was easily the toughest decision of my life. It’s still painful. But it was right. 

And last but not least. Grief. Plug your ears. 

Grief is a mother-fucker. She’s a real dirty bitch. I had to steel myself. Get strong. Be tough. Pay the bills. Be emotionally stable (you know, normal adult things), Because of that, I still hadn’t grieved the loss of my Dad, my brother, and my marriage ending. I didn’t create or take space and time to feel the pain. But boy oh boy, did I have the tough-girl, bitch-boss thing down.

Loves, if you have experienced loss and haven’t grieved, you need to hear this (I can literally feel the knot in your chest right now) there is NO way around it.

You cannot escape grief. It will chase you down. But here’s the oddest thing I’ve learned. It will chase you down because you need it. When we slow down, and feel the pain, and let the tears well up and run over, it’s like rain after a dust storm. It’s a necessary cleansing and healing release.

Darling, walk through it. Have courage. Surrender to it. It will hurt and it will heal.

Also, it’ll get easier. 

Here’s what I know now. I’m not alone. I’m not the only one with a story of struggle and fight and redemption. If I was, it wouldn’t be the stuff that Marvel movies are made of.  If you’re struggling today, if you’re fighting for YOU, keep at it. And remember, a fight for your best, is inadvertently a fight for others. They need your light. 

You will come out on the other side.

You’ll be like a shiny pretty penny. Or a diamond. Yes, let’s go with diamond. I feel like we could write a song out of this… I can see it now… “Shine bright. Like a diamond.” ;)  

So, when someone says I look happy, next time I’ll respond with, “Damn straight I am! I worked like a mother f-er to get here! And I am going to shine bright. Like a diamond.” 

Just kidding. I won’t say that. But I’ll think it. And then I’ll giggle and go on my merry way. 

x, Jen

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