Damaged Goods

Three things percolated to the top of my mind this week and solidified into a realization:

Thing number one. I am reading Stephen Covey's book The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. Yes, I am probably the last person on earth to read it. Anyway, not that he comes right out and says it, but I got the vibe that Mr. Covey believes that if one got married then one should stay married.

Thing number two. I am writing a book about divorce. Since birth, I've had a shitload of experience with it so I am writing about the good, bad and ugly in the hopes that it will help people. I am passionate about the idea that we can do divorce way better. I was writing a section that debunks some of our hurtful stories. The debunking of the "If a marriage ends, it was a failure" story, the "Marriage is supposed to be forever" story, and even the "Divorce damages kids" story all flowed pretty easily. By comparison, I thought the "I am damaged goods" story would be a piece of cake. Nope. Blocked.

Thing number three. A ways back, a friend asked me whether or not I care what people think. And I admitted that I do. Funny, it felt a bit like a sinful confession.

I am divorced from my first husband and separated from my second. And these three things combined into one clear, horrific thought. "I am damaged goods." What?! No way! I went into major self-help mode. It was meditation and mantras to cleanse myself of this terrible idea. And my healing came in an unlikely form. Acceptance. I am damaged goods. Sort of like the Velveteen Rabbit except not as sweet. I am battered, ripped and stained. And real. I am damaged goods and I mean that in the nicest possible way.