My ex-husband glowered at me just over three years ago, “walk out that door and you’re not coming back” and without hesitation I spun on my heels and did just that, with my two little girls in tow. After camping out at a friend’s, we moved into a borrowed home which would be our healing place for the next year. I took this photograph of my girls the day we got the keys. The three of us danced and wheeled from empty room to empty room for what felt like hours, with the music cranked up as loud as we could stand it. Then we collapsed into a pile of pillows and I wept as they napped.
I’ve been thinking about how vastly different things are for us now from what they were like three years ago when I took this picture, and how strong I had to be to in order to become the person I am today. I’m proud of the choices I have made, both for myself and my girls.
Now, extreme change is again hurtling toward my tender little family – but this time it’s not scary and dark. It’s the happy, exciting, adventurous sort of change that comes about after generous quantities of love and support have been added to the mix. The sort of change that feels like I am skipping jauntily toward the sun, rather than tearing myself away from a dark place. The sort of change that keeps me up at night giggling in anticipation, and distracts me from my work during the day with daydreams and ideas. Soon. Until then, we dance!