I look back through the past year and I’m amazed at how much I’ve changed and grown - and the winding path I took to get where I am. Then, I look at where I stand and can’t help but wonder if I did something so terribly wrong to be standing in what looks like a heap of rubble.

But, then I wonder if perhaps it’s not rubble - but only a collection of incredibly hard but valuable lessons that I’m supposed to be learning and experiences to encourage growth of all involved. Perhaps I just can’t see it for what it is supposed to be because I’m looking at things all the wrong way, from the wrong perspective.

I see the glowing embers of anger, their edges bright and hot and remember all the times certain people have called themselves our family and our friends - how often they’ve told us they’d be there for us and that they supported us, and wonder where exactly it is they are when we seem to need them most. Both of us. I see the flickers of light as I can’t comprehend how they don’t understand that there are no sides in this, that we BOTH need support. Love. And, still they seem to walk away in one way or another.

I see the ashen shards around me that remind me of the messages I’ve seen about changing oneself in a relationship and the resentment seems to rekindle itself, because I know that no matter the changes *I* make, they’ll never truly change the issues we’re having now. I feel like shaking all of those who have pressured me to stay without even considering what that would mean for me - or my girls - in the long run…

I see the broken glass at my feet and my own broken reflection startles me. I’m alone and every decision I make is a weighty one, decisions that could forever impact the lives of not just myself or husband, but my daughters. I can see the fear etched in my face, so afraid of making such a monumental decision and it being the wrong one. Feeling like every decision is forever set in stone with unfathomable consequences.

Or, maybe I’ve been looking at my feet - seeing only shards, rubble, and glass instead of the materials which are meant to shape me into someone else. Better. To teach me lessons.

Maybe I’m supposed to learn to love with unconditional love even those that are the hardest to love - those who if judged by their own set of credentials could even be judged as unworthy of such love. Maybe I’m supposed to remember that in SOMEONE, SOMEWHERE’s eyes - that, perhaps they see me in exactly the same way. Maybe I’m not supposed to be learning to retract myself from such situations that would involve trusting others who have never proven themselves time and time again, but instead learning to love them anyway.

Maybe the changes I’m supposed to be making have nothing (directly) to do with my relationship, but rather as a person - as myself. Perhaps the changes I’m supposed to be making are to help better my own self - so that other areas in my life may be indirectly affected at a time I cannot even begin to comprehend now.

Maybe I’m supposed to worry less about the damage I will unintentionally do and forget what certain others have said. Maybe I’m supposed to focus on doing the best I can and remembering that I’m not the one in control - that these are things I can’t control, but my God can. Maybe I should worry less and have more faith that no matter what happens - whether it’s what *I* (or anyone else, for that matter) thinks is for the best and accept that sometimes even the biggest of blessings can only be reached by the most windy roads.

Maybe it’s not what I’d hoped for, but maybe that’s because I had settled on mediocre when I’m destined for grand.

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