What do you pack when you leave your husband?
It’s a question I asked myself one year ago today.
Well, you pack pajama’s and work clothes. (Because you have grand illusions of not falling apart and having to leave the office.)
Today, more than any other day, I mark as the date my marriage ended.(although it wasn’t “official” until June). I could have picked a number of other dates that followed -because after February 27, the cards fell like dominoes.
The day I found out about her (March 4)
The day I filed. (March 7)
The day I moved into my apartment (May 1)
The day I resurfaced on my blog (May 6)
And so on.
But I picked this date because it marks the hardest thing I had ever done. The bag had to be packed. The rest of the milestones were part of the unpacking.
And today is a day I can celebrate how far I’ve come, the inner strength and beauty I found within and the friends and family who helped me along the way.
Because over the course of the past year, I’ve unpacked my bags and I’ve come home.