Is this real? Is it over? I feel like the battle is done. This war that has been going on for far too long; it’s done. I’ve won. I fought for a cause, and I didn’t give up. I lost so much, but I continued on. Because something inside me told me to keep fighting with everything I had. It told me to fight through the pain, and the loss, and the mistakes, and wade through all the shit because there was something better coming. I lost my way a few times, but never stopped. It doesn’t feel real yet.

I guess it all started when my ex-husband and I decided to get a divorce. That’s when the story of my change started. Once we decided, and I was done, something died inside me, but something was also born. When he had the movers come get the furniture he was taking with him just a few days before our 4 year anniversary, it was finally real. I remember standing in the middle of my living room while they were taking his things and I cried. Everything was moving so fast, yet I was frozen. I cried because I wasn’t only losing a marriage, I was losing my best friend. He would be gone, and I could never tell him my stories anymore. At least, not in the same way. It was a death. The death of a marriage. It wasn’t an easy thing. It was terrible to just say goodbye to a relationship of 7 years. I started my adult life with this man, and I chose to walk away.

Shortly after he left, I was packed up and ready to sell our house. Literally, pictures were scheduled the very next day, and I was having friends over to clean. My stuff was in storage, and I was ready to go. I had a friend who was willing to take me in while I got back on my feet. I was shattered and broken. She was buying a new house, and I was losing mine. She was expanding her business, and mine was going to move to a stand still. My life would be packed up in boxes, and hers would be blossoming in her brand new house. I was jealous, of course. But it was more about me watching my life crumble before me, and seeing her moving in to her new place just made it all the more real.

I found a different friend who was willing to help me out by moving in to the main floor and I would live in the basement. I would live in the guest room of my own house. But I would get to keep my house. I didn’t think it would work because of my business. But we worked it out, and they moved in. Things worked very well for a while. And I cared deeply about every one of them. I still do. I attach to people, and they helped me through a very trying time in my life.

During this whole time…I made a mistake. A big one. I attached to an inappropriate person and fucked up. Hard. I wasn’t in the right mind, I was hurting and I was vulnerable. I hurt someone incredibly close to me, and I can’t ever fix it. I cope with what I did; I reached out to people who didn’t want my heart, but everything else. I put my heart in a box, and used people to fill a void to make me feel like I was beautiful, needed, important. I did this in all the wrong ways. I was using people. And I didn’t care, nor did I know it at the time. And then I found someone who caught me. I didn’t realize at the time, but I was caught in a brand new web of fucked-uppery. It wasn’t like that the whole time…or so I thought. Information came to light later where I realized there was a lot more going on than I originally thought. I was used and manipulated in the worst way.

I gave my heart to him. I gave him the whole damn thing. Every piece of who I was, I gave it away eventually. I wasn’t me anymore, I was a lost, broken soul, but I didn’t know it until much later. I unhealthily attached and became a co-dependent. Never thought in a million years I would be that person, but I was so lost, and I was enabled to continue being that way. Then, I broke my foot. Any bit of independence I had was gone, and I relied even more on him. I was literally useless and totally at his mercy. I was miserable, but trying not to be. I was fighting so hard to stay positive, even though I felt like a worthless sack of shit all the time. I was in pain, my mental stability was one of insecurity and dark thoughts. But I fought it with whatever inner strength I had.

Eventually, the relationship fell apart when I started to get back on my feet (no pun intended, but go ahead and take it that way). I was devastated and had no idea why it happened. I could get into details, but it doesn’t matter. What matters was that my soul was destroyed. I was betrayed in nearly every way. I needed a fresh start; I had too much baggage. So I decided to sell my house as quickly as possible and start over. I started fixing it up. I was insane manic for weeks… no, months and I used it to do house projects. I learned so many new skills, I faced so many of my fears, I met new friends, I started getting out and doing things for myself again. I felt empowered and felt like myself again.

It was about this time I decided I would never let another person take my independence. I will never lose myself like that again. I want to share my life, BUILD a life with someone, but never will I give away my pieces again. I want to build the puzzle together with both our pieces. And I never want to waste my time on something that is fake again. I want real and I want to build that god damn puzzle, even if that means we’re missing pieces sometimes, and we have to use glue, gum, and duct tape. I would rather have that than a fake fairytale. Anything else isn’t worth it. This was a milestone for me in my ‘recovery’.

I sold my house. I found a temporary place to go. I thought it was safe for my business and myself. I was sorely mistaken. It was alright for a while. Until it wasn’t, then it was a nightmare. The house I was going to put an offer on fell through. My temporary place was now looking like I needed to stay there longer. I kept looking at houses, and more and more properties were falling through for one reason or another. I had been looking for months, but nothing was going right for me. City laws, building codes, permits, the property was already sold, problems with legalities, ‘gentlemen agreements’ gone bad… One thing after another was falling through, but I managed to keep a smile on my face for the most part and kept on truckin’.

I had to move out due to a variety of complicated, stupid reasons. I have a client who has become a friend, who offered me some help. She thought it sounded so silly, but said I could live on her property until I figured something out. I graciously accepted. It was a loft in the tack room on her horse property. She has a beautiful house and a lovely little ranch with a chicken, cats, dogs, horses, and a really cool deer skull. I accepted and cried later. I was almost going to be living out of my truck for a few weeks, and she provided me a much better option. Though I have been homeless, it’s more a mental state of mind than physicality. They are a wonderful family and each and every one of them has a beautiful soul radiating with love and warm, inviting vibes. This was just where I needed to be at the moment. I hope I can help them as much as they helped me once I am able to.

I found a place and was under contract. I thought this was it…Until it fell through days before closing. I was crushed, yet prepared because I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. And it did, so I started looking for houses again. Found another one, and was under contract with the new one THAT NIGHT. Negotiations, buyer’s agreements, paperwork where you sell your soul and your first born child, inspections, appraisals… you know the drill. It all finally went through. And we are set to close on Monday of next week. It’s not real until I sign those papers, but I feel like this time… it’s different. This time, this isn’t a dream. In my mind, I feel like the house is already mine, and I’m talking about the yard, and my plans, and I’m telling people. I have asked for help moving, and on all the other ones, I didn’t feel like making any set in stone plans for people to help. I do on this one. This one feels like me. This one feels like it’s the one. Though, I’m still cautious and careful because I have been so burned in the past.

So, here I am. Days before closing, and I’m being as still and silent as I can, to not interrupt the universe at work here. I don’t want to scare the very fickle ‘deer of a deal’ I have going on here. I’m making sure all my ducks are in a row. I’m doing everything right and by the books, so this can go through. I have worked so hard, and here I am. Final days.

This is more than a house.

This is a new beginning.

This is a new start.

This means I am free of the baggage I have been carrying around.

I can let go, I can move on, and I can build again.

This is so much more than just a house.