I’ve heard the quote (or some variety of), “When someone shows you their true colors, believe them,” a million times, but it’s so hard to comprehend until you really experience it. This week, I finally had the opportunity to get hit over the head with the truth.
As I’ve mentioned before, I semi-recently got out of an engagement, what I didn’t mention is that until last week, we were still living together. He traveled a lot, so was gone the majority of June and July, and due to renting standards, it was pretty hard to find a place/roommate in the middle of summer that didn’t have a lease that ended immediately. So I was waiting to find that place, with the perfect lease terms that would allow me the ability to leave in December and head to KC to begin anew. Last week, I found it. Which proved to be a very good thing.
Over the past couple of weeks, since he returned from his last voyage, he had been spending a lot of time with his “son” at his baby-mama’s house (whom I had never met in our 4.5 years of dating,) including a couple of nights until 10 o’clock and almost a full weekend (coming in only late at night.) I know, you are probably thinking you are over, so what’s the big deal. Well over the 4.5 years there had been a huge gut feeling in the pit of my stomach that through his denial, was something more for this woman. I mean, she mothered a child of his. He denied adamantly any feelings or any involvement.
Well fast forward, Saturday evening, he was pretty much pushing me to get out of town to hang out with @annaundercover, which I was fine with, but through a series of events I came home early, to an empty house. That’s cool, no biggie, he’s out with his friends he’s supposed to be here in the morning to help me move anyway. So I go to sleep, and wake up around 11am, physically and emotionally drained from moving and separating 4.5 years worth of crap. Still not home, no phone call, not answering his phone. I start to worry, as I do about anyone I care about. No matter if we are broken up or together, I will always care for him, as I do any friend I may or may not talk about. If I let you into my life, I will always care about you. So finally around 2:30 after moving a load of stuff by myself, I finally get a call. I asked him casually if he had fun with his buddies, he said he wasn’t out with him. I ask about the baby-mama and he says, “I don’t want to talk about it.” My heart sank. My suspicions were confirmed. I wasn’t even out of the house and he was already with the other woman. This was the biggest kick in the babymaker anyone could have given me, I had to pull over and be sick. If there’s one thing I couldn’t do, it’s start a relationship before the last was over, especially with someone (well the only person) that my ex-fiance would be devastated by finding out about. So to get to the real point of this…
This isn’t about him, it’s about me. This was a reality check. His mistake was my chance for me to finally see what others ::coughannacough:: have been trying to tell me for years. I am strong. I am the only one I can rely on. I don’t need anyone else.
**SIDENOTE** As I write this post about not needing anyone else, I find out via a FACEBOOK UPDATE from my little sister that my grandpa (the person I am closest with in my family, has a brain tumor...**
I always have known I was strong, I’ve been the over achiever, the only college graduate in my family. I’ve worked full-time and part-time while in school, given my beautiful baby girl up for adoption, etc. Oh and I’ve lost 75lbs already and want to lose about 75 more (I raised my goal!) I feel like this week has been my cosmic intervention to see my true self. The self that I lost through layers of fat, a broken relationship and a broken home. It’s an awakening that even though I have more baggage than one of the Kardashian sisters on a two vacation to Turks and Caicos, that I am a strong person. I’m a fighter, and I’m determined to shine and make those that love me proud.
I know its corny, but I believe in signs. This is a sign for me on many levels, that if I can handle things now and still work and do everything else I have on my plate, that I can make it at any level. I’ve been plateauing on my weight loss, mainly because I was pretty bummed about the breakup. If anything, this past week has shown me that the breakup, although huge, really is nothing but a drop in the bucket to me. 4.5 years may seem like a long time now, but when I am 85, what is going to be more important is me and my health. So the breakup, along with the information about my grandpa, has made me realize that couch to 5k I have started and stopped 7 times, will be finished this time. For me, for my children, and to add one more notch to my true colors and true strength. Plus, it would be nice to start my new life in KC about 30lbs lighter and little hotter too