Eat Pray Love.
What is it that I’m learning lately that I want to share? What is it that I even want to share at all? Right now I’m in a makeshift blanket fort (that I built over the top of my bed), snuggled in with my laptop and my giant red labradoodle while I cry quietly so I don’t wake the dog. Let’s not pretend that I have it all together.
I guess of late there’s been a lot of changes taking place for me. In the last six months I’ve separated from my husband (amicably, don’t go thinking Guys Like You had anything to do with him - poor guy, I wrote that before I even met him and he’s even sung harmonies on that song and local media here had a headline that could easily be misinterpreted - insert frustrated eye roll). Over these past six months I’ve also obviously moved house, been to the CMAA Academy of Country Music, the Tamworth Country Music Festival, I’ve released two singles, recorded my first film clip, formed a band, had a launch, started doing live performance again and then the corona virus has hit and the world has been upside down.
I’m finding my feet all over again. Figuring out who I want to be, where I want to be, where I want to go and what I want to do. It’s all a bit messy frankly. I’m considering moving down the coast to where my extended family live. Especially now that corona means we can’t travel and we can’t go and stay with relatives outside of our homes, all it makes me want to do is move down there somewhere close so I can take my Pop or my Aunty or my cousins for a walk and a talk and just be near them.
I miss my family. All of them. The family of five I had a year ago is now a family of two, and corona means the distance between everyone is even larger than it was. I miss my step daughters. I miss my grandparents and thinking about their vulnerability right now sends fear right through me and I don’t want to ignore it or push it down, but I also don’t want to let it consume me. Same when it comes to my separation and impending divorce. I don’t want to get lost in the sadness and grief; the loss of a story, the death of a hope of the future together, the loss of a lot of things really, even if it was a wise and necessary decision for both of us - it doesn’t make it any easier. Grief is still there. I guess I’m only kind of wrapping my head around it now. It’s been nearly six months and I’m only just able to start kind of talking about it. Until now I’ve said nothing publicly besides the odd off hand comment. I didn’t mention it in my radio interviews in case I lost my shit. I have only been able to talk about it to my inner circle and even I haven’t been able to share my inner workings on it. Partly because its intensely personal, partly because it’s not just my story and I don’t want to overstep any boundaries for him either. This is hard for everyone.
I am happy we can be friends. I am happy that we still get to be in each others life without hating each other and I can’t even put into words how grateful I am for that. That gratitude wets my face with tears. Tears mixed with relief, and a strange sense of pride - I’m proud of both of us for the way we have treated each other with respect and kindness through this, tears mixed with a deep, sorrowful sadness that it really is over and my time in this place, in this space, in this role is done. I’m also faced with questions about what the future holds. Where I am going to be based, how my life is going to look. God. My son is going to be 18 in less than three years. What am I going to do then?
Silly questions arise like is this it now? No more children for me? I’m 38 in a week and my ovaries are surely about to dry up. Adoption? I’ve always wanted to make a difference in the life of a child… but perhaps I’ve done that already and I need to just focus on healing, and maybe chuck a Liz Gilbert and eat pray love.
I don’t know what the future holds. In my heart I believe that God has a plan and whatever direction I end up choosing he will use this somehow. I believe I will continue to heal, but that I will be forever changed. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe I needed to go through this too. Ah the life of a songwriter. Nothing is ever wasted.
Whatever it is that you’re going through right now I hope that you hold onto the hope that nothing will be wasted for you either. I know this isolation stuff is tough, but we will get through it.
Much love,
Michelle.