Epiphanies

I'm still here. I survived Pesach, and all the togetherness that it entails. I even survived the Chol Hamoed trips, although I learned that there are some things I may not be willing to do ever again, even in the name of shalom bayis. Much too hard on my nerves. I'm learning to be more selfish, and last night, my newest therapist told me that it's not only okay, but important for me to focus on myself more and not push myself too hard. Ah, validation.

I almost didn't go to the new therapist last night. When I first called to make the appointment, I was my (now normal) basket-case self. But over the last weekend, I had the latest in a series of epiphanies that I've been having ever since the full extent of my misery sank in. Every so often, I would suddenly see things in a new way; I'd start to wonder, "Why didn't I ever realize that before?" Of course, once the thrill of discovery wore off - or if I tried to share my epiphany with anyone else - I'd realize that I hadn't actually realized anything new. It was all the same things I'd known all along, but perhaps I was seeing new connections between old facts or new perspectives on old information. It's that magic "Aha!" moment. It's what I keep telling my husband can't be forced. Yes, I know in my brain that you're a wonderful person and perfect in every way (that was sarcasm, fyi - I'd better clarify before you commentors start bashing my lack of reality), but I don't feel that you're perfect for me, and I'm not in love with you. Even if I'd like to make myself love you, I can't. You can't force yourself to feel something. But every so often, something clicks inside of you, and suddenly you do feel - well - different, at least. Something changes inside you. It's probably what falling in love feels like, not that I'll ever know from my own experience. You see, what happened over this weekend was that I realized that it's entirely possible that the reason I couldn't find anything wrong with my husband or relationship - nothing concrete to tell the therapists and rabbis and concerned family members - is because there is nothing to tell. The reason it all looked good on paper is because it is good on paper. But I'm just not the type of person who is going to change my identity all that quickly based on paper. I need to feel certain things to be able to do certain things, and - barring falling in love or other strong narcotics - I'm not going to magically start feeling differently just because some stranger put a ring on my finger. I know it's been a while since that magic moment, and so I should have had time for all the good things to fall into place, but the stress that my marriage has been under pretty much since Day 1 kind of held everything in status quo. Of course, there's now a whole lot of baggage that wasn't there before, but also we've both changed in a lot of ways, so it might be possible to try starting over and this time do everything much, much more slowly, to give things a chance to develop a bit more naturally. It's certainly worth a try. At the worst, I'll still be where I am now, but I'll know myself much better. It's going to be tricky, because I'm not sure I can tell my husband about this epiphany - that might ruin all the development till now, because if I give back hope, he may revert to his old, super-confident, super-clingy, super-optimistic self. But of course, if I don't tell him, then he may give up on the whole thing, and that would certainly also defeat the purpose of trying again.

It's so funny how people -including, sometimes, me - insist on trying to pin problems on external factors. "She wasn't really committed to kollel." True, but I don't have a problem with kollel either. I think it's a wonderful idea, although not for everyone. Is it for me? Maybe. (Terrible answer to give to a shadchan - don't ever, ever say it.) "She should have married an older/ more experienced/ more mature/more ambitious guy." I probably would have had less trouble connecting to and respecting such a person, but I think it would have come with a different set of issues. Put two type A's in a small Lakewood apartment and wait for the fireworks. "She shouldn't live in Lakewood." Okay, no arguments there, but it's not like I have a problem with living in Lakewood, other than the fact that it's the middle of nowhere. And there really aren't all that many good options for where to move.

No, for me, the whole thing is about how I feel about the person I'm irrevocably bound to. If I'm connected to him, I can support whatever lifestyle I have to. Of course I'd rather not have to work, live in a mansion without a mortgage, be free to travel the world, not have to worry about bills. But assuming that I know why I'm doing what I'm doing - assuming I have a goal that I'm happy about - I can accomplish anything.

The best part about my latest epiphany isn't even so much that it put some hope back into my marriage. The best part is that I have regained my confidence in myself. All those people who are telling me that I'm terribly flawed and psychologically disturbed - I know with confidence that they're wrong. Maybe I work differently from most people, and maybe I wasn't sure quite how to express that so that I could help those who are completely different from me relate to me, but there's nothing wrong with me, and I won't let anyone take away that knowledge again.