Let me start this part by saying that there are no villains here. There are no victims and no martyrs. This is just humanity in its blind, clumsy,
programmed and conditioned state stumbling along trying to figure out what’s
going on with life. That being said, I
can see now how LOA and my own lack of how it works affected everything in my adult
life. At the age of 20, I attracted my
husband to me based on what I was conditioned by my family that I should
marry. Does that make him a bad person? While that topic may still be debated in some
circles, I would have to say no. He has
done and is doing the only thing he knows and has ever known. Unless and until he chooses to know and do
differently, that will never change.
That doesn’t make him bad – just bad for me.
Pretty much the same thing may be said of my second failed
adult relationship. He’s not bad. I’m not bad.
We’re just bad with and for each other at this time. At least we’re still friends and friendly to
each other. That’s something I get to
take away from this relationship that I did not get from my marriage, so I consider
myself blessed.
When I left my marriage of 17 years, I was a very different
person than I was when I said “I do”.
Spiritually, I was on a completely different path, but was still trying
to find my way. I felt some pieces of
the puzzle were missing, but had no clue as to where to look for them. So, I just kept on keeping on, having faith
that I would figure it out as I went along.
Personally, I was a much stronger person all those years later, but knew
that I wasn’t at all close to being where I wanted to be or needed to be. I was just happy that I at least saw the
light shining on the path that I knew I needed to walk.
Very shortly after my husband and I filed for divorce, I met
the man whom I’ve spent the last six years.
We’ve lived together in three different states. It was quite the whirlwind affair and I found
myself pregnant after just three months of us seeing each other. He and I did what we thought was the “adult”
thing to do and began living together as husband and wife. We never married, mostly because I resisted
against it. I didn’t want to be married
again, but I conformed to playing house again.
We never really got to date this whole time, just hung out with each other
and figured it would all fall into place.
Clearly, that didn’t work out for either of us.
One major thing that I felt in both relationships that
eventually led to me pulling away from each of them was resentment. With that one whopper of a feeling came a
whole host of other goodies: Bitterness,
spite, regret, anger, animosity, indifference and loneliness.
I continue to squelch my personal voice in my second
relationship as I had in my first. My
desires, my wishes, my preferences, my choices were all kept at bay in
deference to his. At first, it was done
because I was conditioned to believe that this is just what a good and proper
wife does. The second time was just to
avoid conflict. Most things weren’t
worth the battle to me, and I knew that having contradictory opinions would set
off a fight. So, I wore the role of
doormat by my own choice.
But there was still that inner (higher?) part of me talking
in my head. No, not talking – screaming
in my head! I knew my choices at those
times were utter crap, but did them anyway.
Then, I was reintroduced to the concept of LOA. I already had some knowledge of “The Secret”,
but was introduced to some more meaty sources of information on the
subject. I began this immediate and
radical shift in awareness. Things I
thought were clear before became so much brighter that I realized I had no clue
before in comparison to what I knew and saw now.
Enlightenment came pretty quickly to me over
the course of about six months this past year.
This new awakening brought with it a major fork in the
road. What’s interesting is that I
recognized this place, since this wasn’t my first tour in this area of my
life. However, I saw this fork in the
road entirely differently this time. I
finally saw the truth. I saw further
down each road – more than I had ever before.
The left side was a dark, overgrown, thorny, very well-worn
footpath and, oddly enough, it went around in one huge circle back to where I
currently stood at the fork.
The right side is a side I always used to only see a couple
of feet in – always eclipsed in a fog. I’ve
always found thick fogs to be overtly creepy, so I would usually avoid looking
at that right path for very long. This
time, though, the path was crystal clear like a cloudless sunny day. I could see that it went in a straight line
for as far as the eye could see. I
couldn’t see any real details, but it was oh-so comforting and felt like a
beacon calling me home.
To be continued...
