The Three “D’s”

Sequoia sempervirens and visitors in Redwood N...

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I once heard it said that Death, Divorce, Desertion (also known as the three D’s) were cause enough to force a woman into rebirth.  Well, here I am.  And, although I was the one who deserted and am the one doing the divorcing; there was still a death of sorts; a grieving period. What I want others to realize is that the death is of the dream that we women have, that dream of the life we dreamed of for ourselves when we planned our weddings, picked out everything from the wedding dresses, to the flowers, to the wedding cake, the venue and right down to the vows.

In my case, I picked out the dress, the flowers, the venue, even the cake and practically the vows.  My ex?  Showed up.  Somewhere along the way (and most likely all along, stemming from childhood) I said to myself that it was ok for me to say “no” to myself, to step aside and allow others to walk ahead.  That other’s needs were far more important than my own, that other’s opinions of me meant more than my self-respect and happiness and my opinion of myself.

I’m not entirely sure where and when this whole idea of mine started.  Is this the cause of my birth order?  Who knows?  What I do know is that I’ve carried loyalty to a fault, right down to where I have my nails done, my hair, my gardener and housekeeper.  The place can be horrible, can treat me like crap, and I’ll always give them just one more chance.

Well, that was the way it was with my marriage.  My husband had a problem, an addiction, and every time he fell off the wagon, I’d give him “just one more chance” until I pushed away, so much so that it forced him to push away.  Or was that reversed?  He pushed away, by drowning himself in a bottle, forcing me to push away?…  I don’t know, doesn’t really matter.  What does matter is that there is something way down deep that must be uncovered and that “something” is what I intend to get to the root of and why it is that I will cut so much slack for everyone else, and not give myself the same courtesy.

And so, it is with this question (that will lead to many more on this journey for that I can be sure) that I have decided to dedicate the coming year to my search.  I intend to delve into and dig deep into the depths of a woman known to many as Ann MacGregor and known to me as “Annie” the little girl who never grew up.  A girl, who never found her voice and never seemed to step in from the shadows long enough to see her own reflection in the mirror.

So, with your help, I hope to find in this next anniversary of my birth, Ms.  Ann Mac Gregor.


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