Muscle Memory
There's this thing called muscle memory. It's when you do the same things over and over until your body almost seems to do the task naturally. Playing piano, typing, doing a familiar exercise routine... when we do these things almost on auto-pilot, we have muscle memory.
The heart is a muscle. Even though we don't actually feel feelings with our hearts, it still makes sense to me that my heart is a muscle that remembers how to love people even when I shouldn't any longer.
Yesterday, July 15, would have been my 18th wedding anniversary. We made it to 17 years. We were together for around 20 years. My heart had a lot of years to love that guy. We had around 20 years to get into a rhythm of life and love. 16 of those years we were parents together in the same house.
This weekend, my heart remembered that rhythm. My girls are supposed to have visitation time with their dad every other weekend. I *want* them to have that time. It has always been my goal to do whatever I could to support their relationship with their dad. My girls are busy, busy kids. This summer, the two eldest have summer jobs and activities. Leaving their home every other weekend was just not workable. So, our solution has been for their dad to come over and spend the weekend here with them...in their home. It probably stinks for their dad, but it has been lovely for them. They can sleep in their own beds and maintain their normal lives and have their dad fit into that a bit more seamlessly. In previous weekends, I've been gone during those visits so they had this house to themselves. But, this weekend, I was here. With my boyfriend. And, for the part of the time, with my boyfriend's 10 year old son. We were one big, weird family for three days.
On Sunday, my heart did a lot of remembering. I lazed around in the morning and nursed a cup of coffee while binge watching Netflix. My oldest two went to work and my boyfriend went to golf and do other things. In the afternoon, I was in my house with my ex-husband and my youngest little lady. Just us three. I cleaned the house and they did normal weekend stuff. He wrote a review of a vinyl album on some Instagram account he has. They baked brownies. I folded laundry. We played a game together. He picked up the other girls. I cooked dinner. At one point, he lifted the lid on the pot and said, "Mmmmm... smells good!" Just like he did when we were married. My littlest lady had a great day. It was normal. Painfully normal. The kind of normal where my heart remembered just what to do in the midst of this family life.
Yesterday, on my anniversary of all days (thanks, Universe, for that extra twist of the dagger), my heart remembered how I used to love this man and our life. It remembered the lovely, sweet routines and we fell into that rhythm without even thinking. At least, I did. You guys, I'm not going to lie. Watching my little girl beam as she cuddled with her dad on the couch and laugh as we played a game of "Spot It" together was heartbreakingly beautiful. It was what I had wanted for my girls and, if I'm honest, for myself. No one gets married with the goal to divorce. 18 years ago, I made a promise I fully intended to keep. When I became a mother, I made another promise to make sure their lives were as amazing as I could make them. Yesterday, I felt like a failure.
Only, here's the thing about muscle memory. Sometimes you practice things and remember how to execute them perfectly and other times your muscles remember how to do the mistakes. Sometimes muscle memory takes you down the wrong path. That's why people make the same mistakes over and over again. It's why people hit the same wrong notes when playing the piano or make the same errors while typing. The muscles don't know it's a mistake; they just know it is what you normally do when performing that task.
The heart does the same thing. My heart remembered how to love and live with this man yesterday, but it didn't account for all the routines we'd gotten into that led to the demise of our marriage. We had lovely, beautiful family rhythms, but we also had years where we didn't speak our truth and quietly nursed resentments. I won't outline all of the ways we sucked as a couple because there is no point. However, the honest truth is that if we were to slide back into that life, our heart would remember how to love one another; it would also remember how to do it badly. The familiar patterns of our life together feel normal and comfortable but they are not healthy.
Two years ago, I wrote this post when I was desperately trying to find a way back to each other and train our hearts to love one another in a different, more healthy way. It didn't work. We were too far gone, I guess. That feels like a failure and I guess it sort of is. That admission stings, but as "they" say, the truth hurts sometimes.
Here's more truths. In December 2017, a formal document was submitted to the court and a judge agreed with my ex-husband and I that we had "irreconcilable differences." Yesterday, while we fell into our old, familiar rhythms, I had a boyfriend off playing golf and my ex-husband had a girlfriend doing whatever she does in whatever place she lives. I don't know much about their relationship, but what I do know is that my new relationship is really beautiful. I don't think it is fair or kind to outline all the ways that my new relationship is superior to my old one, but what I do know is that I am trying very hard to train my heart to love in a new, healthy way. As much as it hurts me to think about my ex-husband doing the same with someone else, I do hope that *is* what he is doing. If we couldn't correct our muscle memory in our relationship, I hope we can train our hearts to love in a healthy way with new people.
I will never not love my ex-husband. Never. We grew up together. We have a shared history and much of it is really just beautiful. He is still one of my very favorite people. He is smart and funny and witty and creative. He's a gentle, kind father. I love all of those things and many other things about him and I love him. Only, I'm training my heart to love him differently. I'm teaching my heart how to love a new person in a new and healthy way. At least, that's what I hope I am doing.
Gosh. It's hard work. My heart doesn't unlove people very easily and I've pretty much given up on unloving my ex-husband. I don't want to unlove him, but I do want to love him as a friend and co-parent. I want to create new rhythms and learn how to remember our old life without pain and agony. I want us to each create new lives that intersect where our children exist in our hearts. I want those lives to include our new loves. I hope we can all love each other and I'm committed to training my heart to learn how to do that.
Happy anniversary, Ben. Here's to new beginnings with new loves and a new, different life kind of, but not really, together. I will always love you and I hope your new life is truly beautiful.
The heart is a muscle. Even though we don't actually feel feelings with our hearts, it still makes sense to me that my heart is a muscle that remembers how to love people even when I shouldn't any longer.
Yesterday, July 15, would have been my 18th wedding anniversary. We made it to 17 years. We were together for around 20 years. My heart had a lot of years to love that guy. We had around 20 years to get into a rhythm of life and love. 16 of those years we were parents together in the same house.
This weekend, my heart remembered that rhythm. My girls are supposed to have visitation time with their dad every other weekend. I *want* them to have that time. It has always been my goal to do whatever I could to support their relationship with their dad. My girls are busy, busy kids. This summer, the two eldest have summer jobs and activities. Leaving their home every other weekend was just not workable. So, our solution has been for their dad to come over and spend the weekend here with them...in their home. It probably stinks for their dad, but it has been lovely for them. They can sleep in their own beds and maintain their normal lives and have their dad fit into that a bit more seamlessly. In previous weekends, I've been gone during those visits so they had this house to themselves. But, this weekend, I was here. With my boyfriend. And, for the part of the time, with my boyfriend's 10 year old son. We were one big, weird family for three days.
On Sunday, my heart did a lot of remembering. I lazed around in the morning and nursed a cup of coffee while binge watching Netflix. My oldest two went to work and my boyfriend went to golf and do other things. In the afternoon, I was in my house with my ex-husband and my youngest little lady. Just us three. I cleaned the house and they did normal weekend stuff. He wrote a review of a vinyl album on some Instagram account he has. They baked brownies. I folded laundry. We played a game together. He picked up the other girls. I cooked dinner. At one point, he lifted the lid on the pot and said, "Mmmmm... smells good!" Just like he did when we were married. My littlest lady had a great day. It was normal. Painfully normal. The kind of normal where my heart remembered just what to do in the midst of this family life.
Yesterday, on my anniversary of all days (thanks, Universe, for that extra twist of the dagger), my heart remembered how I used to love this man and our life. It remembered the lovely, sweet routines and we fell into that rhythm without even thinking. At least, I did. You guys, I'm not going to lie. Watching my little girl beam as she cuddled with her dad on the couch and laugh as we played a game of "Spot It" together was heartbreakingly beautiful. It was what I had wanted for my girls and, if I'm honest, for myself. No one gets married with the goal to divorce. 18 years ago, I made a promise I fully intended to keep. When I became a mother, I made another promise to make sure their lives were as amazing as I could make them. Yesterday, I felt like a failure.
Only, here's the thing about muscle memory. Sometimes you practice things and remember how to execute them perfectly and other times your muscles remember how to do the mistakes. Sometimes muscle memory takes you down the wrong path. That's why people make the same mistakes over and over again. It's why people hit the same wrong notes when playing the piano or make the same errors while typing. The muscles don't know it's a mistake; they just know it is what you normally do when performing that task.
The heart does the same thing. My heart remembered how to love and live with this man yesterday, but it didn't account for all the routines we'd gotten into that led to the demise of our marriage. We had lovely, beautiful family rhythms, but we also had years where we didn't speak our truth and quietly nursed resentments. I won't outline all of the ways we sucked as a couple because there is no point. However, the honest truth is that if we were to slide back into that life, our heart would remember how to love one another; it would also remember how to do it badly. The familiar patterns of our life together feel normal and comfortable but they are not healthy.
Two years ago, I wrote this post when I was desperately trying to find a way back to each other and train our hearts to love one another in a different, more healthy way. It didn't work. We were too far gone, I guess. That feels like a failure and I guess it sort of is. That admission stings, but as "they" say, the truth hurts sometimes.
Here's more truths. In December 2017, a formal document was submitted to the court and a judge agreed with my ex-husband and I that we had "irreconcilable differences." Yesterday, while we fell into our old, familiar rhythms, I had a boyfriend off playing golf and my ex-husband had a girlfriend doing whatever she does in whatever place she lives. I don't know much about their relationship, but what I do know is that my new relationship is really beautiful. I don't think it is fair or kind to outline all the ways that my new relationship is superior to my old one, but what I do know is that I am trying very hard to train my heart to love in a new, healthy way. As much as it hurts me to think about my ex-husband doing the same with someone else, I do hope that *is* what he is doing. If we couldn't correct our muscle memory in our relationship, I hope we can train our hearts to love in a healthy way with new people.
I will never not love my ex-husband. Never. We grew up together. We have a shared history and much of it is really just beautiful. He is still one of my very favorite people. He is smart and funny and witty and creative. He's a gentle, kind father. I love all of those things and many other things about him and I love him. Only, I'm training my heart to love him differently. I'm teaching my heart how to love a new person in a new and healthy way. At least, that's what I hope I am doing.
Gosh. It's hard work. My heart doesn't unlove people very easily and I've pretty much given up on unloving my ex-husband. I don't want to unlove him, but I do want to love him as a friend and co-parent. I want to create new rhythms and learn how to remember our old life without pain and agony. I want us to each create new lives that intersect where our children exist in our hearts. I want those lives to include our new loves. I hope we can all love each other and I'm committed to training my heart to learn how to do that.
Happy anniversary, Ben. Here's to new beginnings with new loves and a new, different life kind of, but not really, together. I will always love you and I hope your new life is truly beautiful.
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