I was in a group discussion the other day and myself and another woman were talking about leaving our homes. Homes that we put blood, sweat, and tears into (literally). We both had different stories, but stood on such similar ground.
Though she had to leave her home of 20 years for reasons different than mine, we cried together. We felt each other’s stories in our bones.
This was a home I had when I lived in Tallahassee. The kitchen renovation was all my vision. I had a clawfoot tub that I would soak in just about every evening. I loved the sound of the original hardwoods under my bare feet. The original crown molding and old windows set my soul on fire. I even used one of the guest rooms as a studio for my boudoir sessions. I would invite clients over to have wine while we talked about their custom art pieces we would create.
When I made the decision to leave my marriage, I also knew that I had to leave that town and home behind. It shook me to my core.
This place hosted my closest friends and family. It’s where I hosted dinners and where I spent the hardest year of my life, 2017.
It seems superficial or even crazy that a home cradled me in ways that humans couldn’t at that time, but it did.
The woman I was speaking with asked, “I’m wondering if you had a similar experience when you moved into your new home. I hated it. I was angry at it for not being my last home. Not having the garden I spent 20 years creating, the characteristics, and everything I had poured into it”.
God, I can relate.
I replied, “We bought our home in July. My former home, my former husband bought. I do hate that this new home doesn’t have the character that my old one did, but I paid for half of this house (with my partner paying for the other half). I DID THAT. I left a marriage where I asked for nothing financially and I did that by building my business over the past 3 years. And, there is love here (through heavy tears at this point). SO MUCH LOVE. My other home didn’t have that. There was no love there.”
And we cried.
What I’ve realized is that places and humans serve very significant purposes in our life. Sometimes it’s just to carry us until we get to our next destination. Often times we hold onto things and people for longer than we should because we don’t know, yet, that we can stand on our own.
I thanked my ex in that moment for giving me that home. I thanked that home for giving me a safe haven when I needed it the most.
Thank it and release it.
Thank it.
Release it.
I was going to share photos of my old home, but instead I’m going to share photos of women’s stories that I photographed there. The reason being is that these women are who allowed me to create and be where I am at this point in my life. Because of their trust in me, I was able to begin the healing process (I just didn’t know it at the time).
