The Second Act
There’s a segment of my life community that doesn’t know about my first act, my starter marriage. As I reflect momentarily, it isn’t so much an advertent omission of truth as that I just forget. My Father-in-Law died unexpectedly this past Fall. I was so blessed to have a contingent of caring, kind compatriots that I call friend and acquaintance take the time to come comfort me in an intense moment of grief. At the wake, my worlds collided of people that I cared most in the world integrating with each other. One aspect that I hadn’t considered, one friend didn’t know about my prior marriage and the other friend’s husband was loose with his sardonic, sweet sense of humor that conveyed this long ago truth. When I learned of the disclosure, ambivalence set in. I was curious how she would now view me, always the private person who kept confidences or now the mystery who didn’t trust her enough to let her in. It definitely wasn’t the latter. A painful, private chapter of my life that I grew in spite of, surmounted in the face of was one I also put to rest a long time ago. The heartfelt truth is I never think of my first husband, my divorce or the annulment I was granted. When I look back and visit that girl she was full of promise, bright and shiny eyed and then reality visited a few years later. I wasn’t a victim but a partner in the dissolution of a grim, hard lesson. I did my emotional homework at that time so I didn’t have to residually swallow it later. My point being, I hope you’ll view the totality of me and what our friendship has meant. Today I’m more of who I am than that the long ago girl who was still finding her way. While there are open facets of my personality and I am exuberant and confident on many a day, the very core of me is that I am so very private, and that is why I’m a wonderful friend and alli I keep people’s confidences. I’m hopeful that she’ll come around because I truly do miss her. It took a while to learn that I don’t need to share all that my life curriculum vitae has acquired just as others don’t readily share their weight, net worth or grades. It has taken a few decades to accept that colidoscope of emotion, sensitivity, strength and vulnerability that I am. I’m thankful for the friend, acquaintance and family member that have contributed to my continuing evolution. While I’ll never be a completely open book, I’ll make the conscious effort to trust that people I care most about will accept and appreciate me at the page I’m in my life today.
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