Seriously ladies and gents, let me save you some time with this amazing life hack- Don’t get married on a holiday. Boom. I know, mind blown. And, you’re welcome.
My go-to camo tee (similar found here) is my favorite patriotic topper for this July 4th weekend. I love pairing the unexpected together, so it only seems right to wear camo with pink bowed heels and pearls. I mean, why not mix up the ultra girly with the ultimate masculine? I’m ain’t scared.
Fourth of July is all about barbeques, red white and blue, American flags, fireworks, etc. One of my life fails, was doubling up on using this pre-made themed day, and making it into a wedding day too. My thought: “how perfect?! I don’t have think of wedding colors, a theme, etc, its already done!”. I went with a *july 4th in the most chic way, without being tacky* for this red, white, and blue wedding shing-dig. The worst idea. Absolute worst.
Yes, this wedding was many years ago, and no, I’m not ‘living in the past’, as some readers might be thinking. Now that I have successfully navigated through the divorce process and have found happiness and peace on the other side, I think it’s only fair, for my own heart, to throw out this topic.
I was having dinner with my sister last week and we started discussing this same thing. Yes, the feelings are gone. The emotions are tucked away. But even with her past relationships, like mine, there are certain landmines that still exist. Certain activities or restaurants are now slightly tainted with a passing thought of the other person. For me, this is July 4th. Every year, I have the momentary thought, and make the mental count of “this would have been our _____ year anniversary”. Let me be clear. I don’t want to be in that marriage. I would rather be tortured, in my pink heels, by Islamic terrorists. Too politically incorrect? My bad, my bad. But honestly, I would rather be in Iraq, in my camo tee & pearls, dodging war tanks, than back in my marriage. However, some days still suck. For me, this day, every year, is July 4th.
The whole world is waving their flags, watching their fireworks, and I’m grabbing my emergency supply of nerve pills, all while trying to keep a smile on my face. The hope, and good news, is each year it gets better. The first July 4th that I was alone, I took enough sleeping pills to tranquilize a small goat, and slept the entire weekend. Went to bed Friday afternoon, did not leave from under my covers until Monday morning. Except to pee, of course. The second year, I binged watched Netflix until I was in a tv and pizza induced coma. This past year, I bought a red, white, and blue scarf and ventured out to a fireworks show. Progress is progress.
Am I out here on this cliff of landmines alone? Anyone else avoid certain coffee shops, burger joints, or bars, not in fear of the other person, but just simply out of not wanting to think about the past?
Sometimes, avoidance isn’t a cowardly thing. I think it can be healthy, in moderation.