Of course. This is just part of my trail.

I love a morning walk. Sunlight, trees, moving my body — I come home a much nicer, more fun human. Set up for a good day.

The trail in the pic above is one of my favorites. Some mornings, I'm the first person on it.

How do I know I'm the first?

Because every ten seconds, I'm wiping a spiderweb off my face. 🕸️

Clearly, no one cleared the trail before me.

At first, the webs annoy me. Ugh. Again? Really? But after about the fifth one, I give up. They aren't going to stop. This is what it means to walk this trail in the morning — you walk into spiderwebs.

I could turn around. There is, in fact, a sidewalk. A perfectly good, treeless sidewalk not far away. People walk on it. They have lovely web-free mornings.

I do not go to this sidewalk. I keep choosing the trail.

—

Occupational hazard of being a divorce coach: I see analogies for divorce in just about everything. Spiderwebs included.

Going from a one-home family to a two-home family is like that trail.

Emotions pop up the whole way. Grief. Anger. Frustration. Sadness. Fear. You walk a clear stretch — feeling okay, feeling like you've got this — and then whap, you walk straight into another web.

You're the first one walking your trail. No one cleared it for you. And maybe — let's name this — you didn't even choose to be on it. Somebody else put you here. That makes it harder.

Either way, you're walking. Going back isn't really an option. Which means more webs. More feelings. 

You could try to stuff them down. Push through. Pretend they're not landing. People do this all the time — and honestly, for a while, it can work. Until your body starts insisting. Until rage leaks out at your kids when they complain about dinner. Until you're crying in the grocery store parking lot for no reason you can name. Feelings don't disappear because we refuse to feel them. They just find another way out.

—

You don't get to skip the spiderwebs. But you do get to pick how you greet them.

Option #1: Why is this STILL happening?? I thought I was past this. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME.

Option #2: Oh. There's another one. Right. That's the trail.

In both versions, you arrive home with web in your hair. In both, you are tired. Only one of you is extra tired — from fighting with reality the whole way.

You'll get to the end eventually. The webs will thin. One day you'll walk this trail and notice you didn't flinch at a single one, and you'll think — oh. Look at that. I'm a different person now.

But that day is not today. Today: Web. Face. Wipe. Keep going.

💛

Meg