Invisible Victory

Weddings, engagements, college and high school graduations, baby showers, baptisms, and birthdays. These are but a few examples, a collection of celebrations, that mark  a new beginning or milestone in someone’s life. But what do we call it when a marriage ends (for better)? Or when someone finally can and does choose to leave an abusive relationship? In which category does that party fall? Does the graduation-themed card or book “Oh The Places You’ll Go” by Dr. Seuss fit the occasion? Do you send flowers or a fruit basket? Sure, the exams were hard. But what if finally leaving, letting go, walking away (alone) from love you once wished for, and more importantly, coming home to yourself has been the hardest thing you’ve ever done? You’ve grown and learned more by what you endured and survived. Is there a plaque or certificate for that, too? Where’s my trophy?

Building the relationship you left involved two people. Two people created inside jokes and stories, dialogues from road trips or “remember that time when?”Even the fights and struggles are woven into a unique tapestry that only the two of you will know firsthand. Healing and rebuilding, on the other hand, is a solitary endeavor, a road you walk alone. Party of one. Even if the other person was abusive or simply wrong for you, there was still a hand to hold in the making of that house of cards. Now your hands feel empty. There are no inside jokes to tell, no stories anyone else but them will understand. What’s left is an aftermath of dust and bones from your past. The thought fills you with an excruciating emptiness and ache. At times, wearing this new reality feels heavier than the suffocation and heartache you endured in the relationship itself, the reason you left to begin with. 

solitude feels bitter

when you’ve been abandoned

but time alone gifts you 

the courage to live a life 

that thrives in the absence 

of those who do not deserve

your presence and light

(~r.h. Sin, My Dear Wildflower)

They say Rome wasn't built in a day. Grieving, moving on, letting go, and eventually rebuilding deserve their moment in the sun. College degrees take years to earn, and marathon medals require months of sacrifice and commitment. They say that when you train for a marathon that is the real work; that is the marathon. Race Day? That is just the celebration. Making the final choice to walk away from a relationship you helped create, let alone the act of leaving itself, is no different. The choice is built upon months - or even years, and countless hours crying alone in the bathroom - of needs not met, of eroded trust, of apologies not meant or not made. Closing the door to what doesn't serve you, let alone what is bad for you, is simple but never easy. Sacrifices were made. Hours were put in. Miles were tread to get here. What happened in an instant, took ten thousand hours of doubt and suffering transformed into determination and redemption.

Leaving someone you love behind, no matter how fitting the choice, is filled with a thousand painful goodbyes, to what was and what could have been. But walking on, in solitude, choosing yourself, yields endless warm hello’s. This is the ultimate celebration, the victory lap, the welcome home parade. Just as a wedding or a graduation marks a new chapter in one’s life, so too does building the strength and courage to choose yourself, to choose peace, and to start your life anew. The path you were on has ended, but still you walk on. 

as if, all along, you had thought the end point might be a city

with golden towers, and cheering crowds,

and turning the corner at what you thought was the end

of the road, you found just a simple reflection,

and a clear revelation beneath the face looking back

and beneath it another invitation,all in one glimpse: 

like a person or place you had sought forever, 

like a broad field of freedom that beckoned you beyond; 

like another life, and the road still stretching on.

(~David Whyte, Santiago)

Getting to the end of this road may feel like a silent, albeit invisible, victory. There are no cheering crowds, no finish lines to cross, no medals to wear, no signs with your name on them to read and motivate you to carry you forward. But that doesn't mean there isn't beauty in the breaking. That doesn't make this feat any less transformative. And it certainly doesn't make you anything less than victorious. Sometimes you have to lose to win. And sometimes you have to leave in order to truly come back home.