Hi Lynn, it’s Maura.

Last we exchanged notes we both were going through a tough time. My marriage was over and your old dog had passed away. Those scant three years ago feel like an eternity, don’t they?

Three years hence and I am no longer in Reston, no longer have my old lady dog, and am no longer with Mission BBQ…

I now own my own townhouse, have a brand new 10 month old crazy pup and a fledgling career in communications.

Lucy left yesterday for her senior year in college and Annie Rose began her last year of high school last Thursday. Both girls are doing very well. We’ve all worked really hard at forgiveness. I think our bond is stronger than ever.

Jace and I are still battling one another in court. The next appearance is Sept 14. He emailed me tonight to see if we could settle and then in true narcissist form, scoffed at my boundaries (to see his tax return). I am no longer victim to his bullying. I will not yield just because he tells me to.

I have found my voice. I have found my sense of purpose. On good days I am productive and happy. On others I take deep breaths, and strive to do the next right thing.

I am a work in progress. And that’s ok. I’ve got the rest of my lifetime to learn how to do and be me.

I’m getting there, one day at a time.

Hi Lynn,
It’s Maura. 

I hope you are well and that things continue to grow and prosper at the Center for Relationships. It seems like a million years ago, and yet like it was only yesterday that we were there, going to workshops, individual and group. You taught us so much back then. I wish I could say we’d learned enough:

I’m sorry to let you know that Jace and I separated a year ago, and have been in mediation since February. Our divorce papers were filed in Loudoun County yesterday. What a journey. I am incredibly sad that we couldn’t make it work, but I do feel hopeful about our futures apart. It was beyond time, and beyond necessary. 

I have a lovely apartment in Reston. I love the trees and the walking paths. I have a new old-lady-rescue-dog named Roxie. And, I have a new job as “Community Ambassador” for the Mission BBQ store that opened recently in Sterling. The job is the perfect mix of food and schmooze. I also earned a massage license four years ago, and continue to see a very small number of clients out of my home.

The kids are wonderful. Lucy will be 18 next week and is off to William and Mary in the fall. She wants to re-write all the healthcare policies for women and babies in this country. Annie Rose is 14 and will be a freshman at Potomac Falls HS. She’s arty and is super into musical theatre. Infact, she’s “Taylor” tomorrow night in a summer production of High School Musical.

I’d love to tell you that Jace and I really tried hard. I suppose we thought we had. But the truth is, as perfect as we are for one another on paper, in real-life, we just were oil and water. He’s a good person. I’m a good person, but we couldn’t find common ground anywhere. Our relationship was fraught with tension, resentment and a decided lack of intimacy. In the past few years, I strayed, just to get some desperately needed physical affection. I’m not proud of that, but it was the only way I could reconcile staying together, which we were stubbornly determined to do. 

However, last summer, we decided to “press pause” and take a 90-day separation. We were under the care of the “Center for Relational Recovery,” which I naively thought meant, “Relational Reconnecting,” but in our case, the relationship [we both] needed to recover was the one with ourselves. I’d become esteem-less, depressed and fully believing that I was not worthy of being loved the way that I was, that I was broken. I’ve learned now that that isn’t true. I am worthy of love and I was created the way that I am, and there is nothing “less than” about me. It’s been an unbelievable year. 

I wanted to share this with you, as you’ve been such an important part of our history. There’s a part of me that wishes we’d given up long ago, but then again, I wouldn’t trade my girls for anything in the world. 
So, here I am, starting over at nearly 52. It’s worrisome, but I’m not scared. Not every day will be easy, but as the song goes, “Every little thing is going to be alright.” Sending you so much appreciation for the work that you did with us, and the role-modeling you provided for me that there IS life after marriage.

All the best, Maura

“Sometimes I see myself fine
Sometimes I need a witness
And I like the whole truth
But there are nights I only need forgiveness…” (My Friends, Dar Williams)

“I have this friend in a bright and distant town…” the song starts. Dar singing about her friend, but what I hear is a message for myself: The version who loves and accepts herself.

“She says ‘He’s writing something,
Hey now, why don’t you talk about it?”
And he doesn’t make a sound
He’s just staring at his coffee
And I know there’s all this beauty
And this greatness she’ll defend,
But I think it’s in my friend.”‘

Man, that’s me. The old me, anyway. Defining herself by the reflection of her lover on her face. But I’m starting to learn that the glow I can absorb from the beautiful sun around me, is really so much more about MY OWN light.

Four years ago I left a miserable marriage. And for a long time I believed that I was a miserable person — just because someone else saw me that way. But in these past four years, I have learned that I do not have to be defined by what anyone else sees or doesn’t see in me. Or anyone else’s reflection passed off as my own.

I am whole and worthy just exactly as I am.

I came into this world, all 5lbs 2 oz of me, fighting for survival, umbilical cord wrapped around my neck. That cord is gone now.

I am independent, I am happy, and I am free.

“She’s found a common balance
Where you do your work, and you do your love
And they pay you, and praise your many talents.”

“And I’ll act like I have faith and like that faith never ends.”

‘She says “You know I think you remember every part of me…”‘

I do. Now, I do.