With Lettie Lutz’ voice still echoing in my head, I walked out of the theater into bright blue skies and warm sunlight holding the small, chubby hand of my three-year-old. My heart swelled with the satisfaction of taking in the ebullient music and message of “The Greatest Showman,” AND successfully attending a movie with almost the entire family (we got a babysitter for Clara) without a major catastrophe. As we began our drive home the volume in the car gradually became more and more elevated with a variety of sounds and temperaments. Someone in the back seat was annoyed with a brother next to him, the offending brother was vocalizing his defense, the three year-old was being tickled by the 16 year old, producing a piercing, albeit happy, response, and peace was quickly escaping the vehicle. As Seth and I looked at each other acknowledging the growing noise, I could see that he and I were experiencing this moment very differently.
When we planned the aforementioned movie outing, I did what I always tend to do. I quickly envisioned how it would be: First, we would tell the kids on Friday night that we were going to the movie after lunch the next day. They would be thrilled, because we rarely go to movies all together. Then, upon waking up with excitement to begin the day, they would cheerfully do all their chores in record time because they felt so grateful that we had been so thoughtful as to plan a movie trip. After lunch all would pile into the car with smiles on their faces and no one would be bothered by the thigh touching that results when everyone is in the van at once. Upon arrival at the theater, all would wait patiently while ordering tickets and snacks and no one would whine for something they didn’t get and nothing would spill. As we would view the movie together, we would glance over at each other throughout the show and smile in acknowledgment when an especially impressive scene would take place. THEN, as we exited the theater we would laugh and talk and discuss our favorite lines and songs and characters. This would be followed by a philosophical conversation in the car in which we would draw parallels to our own lives and how we treat people who are different than us and about how much we love each other because WE are the greatest show on earth. OUR family.
Well…that wasn’t exactly what went down. There were complaints over chores. There were extra messes to clean up. The almost-17 year-old hoped he could stay back and watch his own show at home (not a chance.) The backseat occupants were bickering within 10 seconds of entering the car, there were no mid-movie emotional connections made, and my five year old and I were about the only two participants in the post-film analysis during the car drive home.
Yeah, it wasn’t exactly what I had envisioned. But it was pretty close! The kids loved the movie, people were happy, and life felt pretty good.
I felt content inside listening to what I would have termed harmonious havoc as I thought of the final scene of the film, with P.T. finally understanding that the greatest show on earth was actually the one right in front of him: his family.
Seth was not feeling it.
Oh, he enjoyed the movie just fine. But for him, noise and chaos don’t quite fit in the same sentence with contentment.
There was something striking about that moment for me, and it wasn’t the incongruous nature of parents not being on the same page. Nor was it the cacophonous reminder that our life is not perfect. It was because what was transpiring there, in all it’s imperfection, was surprisingly symbolic.
I thought of my favorite character from the movie…Keala Settle. The power she pulled from her soul to sing her anthem was so inspiring to me. I loved that after being shut out by Mr. Barnum, she took a moment to feel. But only a moment. And then she rose, unapologetic, to meet the crowd. She was no longer embarrassed or afraid. Or at least not enough to stay down.
That is how I have been striving to be for some time.
Right now, my family is my life. They are me. I am my own person, but they make up a large part of my identity. In times past, I have sometimes wished that my family fit the mold a little better. But I am learning to reject the desire for a more white-washed, homogenized presentation and be proud of who we are, who I am.
As a blended family, we have unique challenges that sometimes result in life simply not being as smooth as it seems to be for other families. My husband stepped into parenthood the moment we stood up from the marriage alter. He had the impossible task of learning effective parenting techniques in mere months as an instant dad as opposed to the years of gradually understanding children as they come one by one, as is the experience of most fathers. There has definitely been a steep learning curve, for all of us. I am learning to appreciate that our family is different than many and that there is a certain beauty about that.
This is my life.
This is me.
Truly embracing ones identity after divorce can be a formidable process. That challenge often reemerges when a second marriage takes place and a new family is built. Having a basic understanding of what one might reasonably expect at these life junctures can aid in that process and help you have the confidence to continue to rise. As I have looked back on that period of time when it all felt unfamiliar and a little unpleasant, I have thought of four expectations I wish to share with you today that will hopefully help you to rise confidently to meet whatever crowd is before you.
#1. Some people will judge you.
This is just a reality. I truly believe that most everyone is doing the very best they can with the understanding they have. Unfortunately, some people who don’t fully know your situation or you as a person will find fault in your choices or circumstance. Try not to let this affect you. You are accountable only to yourself and to the Lord. You owe no one an explanation except perhaps those who are directly affected by what you are experiencing.
Years ago when divorce and subsequent single motherhood became a reality for me, I wondered if I would be surprised by those in my life who would treat me differently. I was. Certain friends faded away; even some extended family members felt the need to shame me, both in private and in public. It hurt at first, but I learned quickly that there will always be those who see me as inferior to them in some way and there is no need to spend a second of my time worrying about how I am perceived or received by others. To quote Charity Barnum, “You don’t need everyone to love you, just a few good people.” And I had some amazing people in my life.
This is me.
#2. Some people will choose to exclude you.
This is rarely out of unkindness. I have found that most people who don’t respond with eagerness to get to know our family are simply unaccustomed to interacting with a family that is structured differently than they are. How do they explain this inconsistency to their children? There also seems to exist the assumption that where there was a divorce, at some point there must have been misdeeds of one kind or another. Was it her? Was it Him? Rather than risk broaching a sensitive subject, they just avoid the potential awkwardness altogether by forgoing a friendship.
After I married Seth it took some time for me to not worry about whether others saw us as a “real” family. Whenever we would be introduced to new couples, there was always this feeling of trepidation as I anticipated the moment they would learn that our family was different than theirs. Would they remain this interested in getting to know us, or would they just be saying hello from now on? Sometimes that happened. It hurt at first, but I learned not to be offended. I understood. It’s hard enough to find adult friends with whom you have enough in common to build a connection. So why befriend the couple whose children don’t all share the same last name? I get it. And I don’t mind. We now have many wonderful friends who love us just as we are.
This is me.
#3. You may feel the need to overshare.
Sometimes in our desire to be understood, we assume that by sharing our story with everyone we meet this goal will be met. Resist this impulse!
There is no need to force the understanding that you were not the one responsible for the failed marriage. There is no need to describe the sins or infidelities of your former spouse in order to absolve your culpability. There is no need to build the narrative you hope others to have of you. Just be you! In time, those with whom you associate will see the real you and any curiosity they may have had regarding your personal past will fade because it simply won’t matter. Good people, the kind of people you want to have in your life, are not out there eager to evaluate your performance in life. Most people are just trying to work on themselves. Inevitably, those with whom you become closer friends will eventually know more of your story because it will come naturally to a conversation. But no one is going to be your friend because you declared your innocence first.
Let others discover who you are and have confidence that the right people will stick around, no matter what occurred in your past life.
This is me.
#4. You will eventually ease into your normal.
There WILL come a day when your life will begin to flow more naturally and you will easily recognize the person you have become. One day you will wake up to the rays of morning sunlight shining through the window, and with a sense of calm and confidence you will begin your day as though it has always been this way. It won’t feel unfamiliar or raw any longer. It will feel real. It will feel right.
I recently had such a moment, as I have had many, many times in the past few years, reminding me that life is just as it should be. One of my older sons has been going through a mom-is-so-not-cool phase. He is still fairly respectful and he still gives me a hug before bed every night, so I guess I shouldn’t be too worried. But as is typical for teenagers, he hasn’t wanted much to do with me and has resisted any attempts I have made to talk about anything at all. I’m not entirely sure why he is bugged by me at the moment, and it is discouraging at times. But last night something interesting happened that gave me a little bit of hope. Earlier in the evening before we read scriptures and had prayers as a family, Seth overheard this son talking disrespectfully to me and came out of his office to gently rebuked him for it. I could tell that it sunk in. After reading, praying together, and saying our good nights, Seth called him into his office. For the next 45 minutes or so, I could hear them talking. Just…talking. Later, as Seth and I were going to bed he expressed to me that perhaps I shouldn’t be too concerned about our son not feeling very close to me at this stage in his life. Because he has him. I knew immediately that what he said was true. Seth is a wonderful dad. And this child is especially close to him. That is something to celebrate.
Our family is unique. It is also exactly the way it is suppose to be.
This is me.
I have a past that includes some unpleasant themes. I am bruised, in some ways.
I have a non-traditional family. I have an imperfect family. Through the grace of Christ we do better every day. Because of Him, I am brave.
When I was young I dreamed of a life full of pleasantness and perfection. I am living a life now that is different than I ever imagined.
And it is making me who I am meant to be.
This is me.
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I would love for as many people as possible who might benefit to be a part of the conversation<3.**