Public

I purpose to live my life with integrity.  I try to be honest, even when its hard to tell the truth.  I'm grateful I live my life as a woman of her word, because a few weeks ago the last secret became public.  I have been very open about my story, for the most part.  I know that as embarrassing and difficult my experiences in life and in marriage have been, being transparent opens the door for hope.  I didn't choose to be in this situation, but since I am I might as well let as much good come out of it as it can.  So as I am honest and share the truth of the issues in my previous marriage: the drug addictions, alcoholism, and many struggles my late husband had, women in my situation find hope.  I purpose to live my life as a light to the women who are pages behind me in the story life: strong women, who are encompassed by darkness.  This darkness is not self imposed.  This darkness is shed on them by others, and it holds them back, like bars on a jail cell.

But there is one last secret which I didn't share.  I suppose I wasn't ready.  I suppose I still felt a sense of embarrassment, however unnecessary it may be.  I didn't share this last secret out of respect for my children and my late husband.  I'm not one who likes to air people's dirty laundry. While my late husband may not have respected himself, I have always honored him as my husband, in death as much as in life.  I believe that is how God would have it.  I strive to be an honorable women, and so I have tried my best to honor him.  I know I've failed at times.  I called him names, I've shouted at the sky to him.  But I always wanted people to remember him for the good that was in him and not sensationalize his downfalls.

I also didn't share for my children's sake.  I vowed that they would never know, because I didn't want to taint their image of their daddy.  I would tell the occasional person as it seems necessary, but in person only.  I never wanted to put it in print, for fear that they would find it!  And at this point I am still holding to that.  Even though it made its way into print, it wasn't by me.  And though I have been forced to tell my children the truth, it was out of necessity, not of ill intent to dishonor and shame their dad.  Perhaps someday I may write my complete story in a book, but toI even struggle with writing it here.  I have a new life, and I love the freedom of not carrying it with me, not being "the woman who...."  I am not ready to take that step, to publicly share, and associate myself with his final secret, not in that way.  So I will continue to share about the last secret in person only, and in writing generically.

Several weeks ago, the thing I dreaded, the final secret made its way public.  The details surrounding my late husband's life falling apart, that I had guarded for so long, were released in the media.  My life, and personal pain was sensationalized for all to see, simply because its a "good story" and it sells! Looking back I almost laugh because its been so typical in my healing process for me to face everything which I have tried so hard to avoid.  God has brought me full circle to face everything I held as a symbol of pain, everything that I wanted to forget.

Perhaps I couldn't truly move on with skeletons in the closet.  Perhaps I needed to face the pain, for the pain to heal.  I equate it to a broken bone, the kind where the doctor has to break it again so it heals properly.  Thats been my story.  My late husband broke some bones, and in order for me to heal properly and regain full use of my life again, those broken bones must be broken again and reset into place.  It hurt when it happened, and it hurt when I faced it again.  But each time I move past it I feel freer than before.  I feel another chain, another weight taken off of me.  My step and stride is lighter, easier and happier.

I've faced the places I equate with pain, I've faced the people who were instruments of pain, and I've now faced the public humiliation of his actions.  Although I was afraid, and tried to avoid facing it, I'm glad God had me do it.  I trust God enough to let Him guide me through this process, to take my hand and show me all the things I didn't want to see.  I am glad He was there holding my hand.  And now as I walk away, I hold my head up high.  Because I am free!  Nothing has a hold on me.  Nothing has power over me: not a secret, a person, an action, or my past.  I no longer want to define myself, or let others define me by my past experiences.  Taylor Swift sings it best, "Who you are is not where you've been... Your still an innocent."