Day 11

September 11th is a lot of things to a lot of people. Flags are flying at half mast all over town in honor of the people who died on the flights, in the Towers and trying to rescue people. On a happier note, it's my neice's birthday...so I try to focus on that since she's such a ray of sunshine in my life.

For me personally, there's one other more private trauma that started on Sept 11, 2001...the beginning of the end of a serious relationship that made me question myself, my judgement, and my self worth. I don't ever mourn the actual relationship, because as I look back, going through the bad relationship is what helped me find John and I'd go through Hell itself if it meant I got to be married to John. In many ways I did walk through Hell to get to John. September 11th brings back those feelings of self doubt and anger - how could I be such a poor judge of character? Was I so desperate to be married that I set aside all standards of how I deserved to be treated and instead let myself fall for the big woo - a person who wasn't at all who he had portrayed himself to be? It's far too easy to vilify people once a relationship ends when one is hurt, bitter and angry. Yet, I've always seemed to vilify myself, thinking that I was just a sucker who was taken in, that I'd wanted to see goodness in him where there wasn't any.

As John and I talked about that this morning he said, "You know, he probably was kind in his own country, in his own environment..but he was so far out of his comfort zone, culture shock is so overwhelming and demoralizing, that he couldn't cope." It thought about that and realized how overwhelming working through the 5 stages of culture shock was for John and for the first time I could look at that past relationship with a little more clarity and compassion. Not just for the other person involved, but also for myself. I think this insite healed a little piece of my soul that's been raw for seven years..and gave me a little more strength to continue taking care of myself, because I'm worth it.

It also really made me appreciate John. Not once during the past three years when he has struggled to find his American legs and a sense of direction has he lashed out at me. He's never screamed at me, berated me or made me feel like his struggles were my fault. Instead he has told me over and over again that I'm worth every bit of heartache and trial. That even if he knew how hard an adjustment it would be, he would still go through it to be with me. I guess my challenge is to love myself as much as John loves me, without a sugar coating of numbness to dull the hard parts.