I have kept this blog a little impersonal and at an arm's length.  I love to write and I have used it as an outlet for pent up feelings, but I have left the specific causes of those feelings out of my writing. Reading back over my posts I see that I have switched to a less selfish view now.  I also see how incredibly sad and wanting to be hopeful I was. I have read that divorce makes those involved go through the grieving stages and I whole-heartedly agree. I guess today I must be the in I want to have fun stage.

I have thought how I would describe the things that encompass me.  Like all of us modern day women, I have many roles.  Some of them I have taken on because of a previous role.  So here goes with a description of what I am. First and foremost, I am a mom to two amazing kids.  They are honestly people I would have chosen for friends if I had not been so incredibly blessed to be their mother.  I admire their shared grit and the individual traits they have as well.  They are very different people, my son has an extreme amount of self-control, while my daughter (like me) has none.  He is more thoughtful and she completely careless.  He tactful and her tactless.  They are so great and I love them both with my entire being.

Because I am a mom I am also a member of the LDS church.  That might seem like a simple answer, but it is the driving force that keeps me rooted in the church when things are difficult.  I have had many experiences that have proven without a doubt that there is a God who is my Heavenly Father,not just a far away diety, but MY Heavenly Father.  I appreciate that knowledge and the assurances that I have felt from him.  To not acknowledge His existence would be extrememly ungrateful after the many times I have been felt His hand ease my fear, pain, and remove my loved ones from harmful situations.

The LDS religion is the one that I was raised in and the prominent religion in my rural Idaho community.  In a general sense of things, people are either extremely LDS or not religious here.  There are some exceptions of course, but going to church usually means a three hour block of meetings that include some priesthood and relief society time.

So the reason for me being LDS might seem simple,but nothing I have ever done is simple.  The conformity to my family,community, and experience drives me crazy!  I longed to be a different religion from everyone I knew, but then I found that the LDS religion answered all my questions and fit in to what I was looking for.  That might be because doctorine has never been simple itself, since the beginning of time there was a how, what, and why.  I want to know them!  That knowledge brings me peace and makes me happy. I find quietness in a world of turmoil from the LDS religion and from the doctorine found in the scriptures.  I want my kids to feel that peace and comfort, so I am LDS because I am a mom.  I am LDS for me, not for those around me.  This sometimes makes me outwardly look like a not great LDS member.  I also differ a little on the complete truth and complete falsehood that sometimes casual onlookers see in the LDS member (and some casual LDS members see in the non-member).  I completely believe in a Heavenly Father that loves me more than I can understand because it is beyond my capability.  Just like I could not love as deep before I became a mom, I cannot love as deep as my Heavenly Father can.  It is part of his godliness.  Heavenly Father does not reserve that for His LDS children.  Those that acknowledge His presence and draw near to Him will enjoy Him drawing near to them, regardless of religion!

I am an abuse survivor.  I typed victim and erased it.  I survived it for today, tomorrow might be a different story because I have broken days that are lasting effects of 17 years of abuse.  They put me back in to the category of abuse victim.  I had all the classic signs that you read about, but I did not realize them in myself because I believed the abuse was my fault (I know, one of the most telling signs, right?!?!).  On broken days I still wonder what I did or what I am that was so terrible as to elicit that from the one that chose to make me his wife.  At some point he valued me enough to want me in his life forever, and when I left he wanted me to stay there.  I know it was to heal some kind of brokenness inside him and he had to break me too so that it was comfortable for him.  I would still be there had he not tried to break my son.  I knew it was not his fault.  I knew that wonderfulness that is him did not deserve that from his dad.

Because I am an abuse survivor, I am a divorcee.  Divorce is not a pleasant thing and I would not wish it on anyone.  But in this world of quick fixes and giving up there are necessary divorces.  Those involved are the only ones able to decide if the ending of their marriage is necessary.  That is not the onlookers place to unsolictidly advise, judge, or meddle.

Because I am a divorcee I am a teacher  (I am the bread winner in this family and bread comes from employment.).  I love it!  I am especially excited right now as a new school year looms ahead. I have been teaching middle school math and am making the transition to second grade (I wish I could insert a super scared face here.).  So I am sure you will be reading a lot about that transition soon.

I am a runner.  This is in direct relation to the touch of ADD that I inherited from somewhere.  Focusing can be tough for me and making decisions is nearly impossible at times!!  When I run the jumbled thoughts that run around in my head stop floating around out of reach and streamline in to a tunnel where I can assess them.  For real this happens!  I see it!  I also run because it makes me feel strong, not like the weak person I felt like when he abused me.

Surely not least, but lastly I am a fast horse riding, history loving, baseball freak!

The anatomy of a race horse is a testament to a high being and always has been for me.  The intensity of their hearts, the smoothness of their balanced bodies that bulge and effortless move with controlled muscle and speed cannot have just happened.  Someone made them, someone with intelligence and love for His creations.

History is amazing and people are amazing.  We need to study it in order to connect with those before us, so that evils do not repeat and to find who were are.  To progress toward a perfect humanity, we need to look at history.  The resilience of the human race gives glimpses in to the divine nature we inherited from our Heavenly Father.  It is inspiring.

Baseball is a culmination of history, resilience,and dirt.  Yes, dirt!  While America has continued on its march of industrial progress, men have relatively stayed the same.  The ground that once soaked up Patriot's sacred blood, shed to benefit the giver's posterity went on  to feel benefactor's cleat marks as they played the game they loved after working where ever they could in the off season.  To me there is a feeling of reverence in a baseball stadium, not because of the players there now (except for their love for the game drifts through the air and permeates through the skin to the soul) but because of the history contained in the dirt.

I hope to provide some useful words to someone out there through the many parts that are me.  I hope somehow you relate and are helped through this mortal journey of life.  Thanks for sticking with me through this long post.

My son will graduate next week.  This is a change in a world of change that is taking a part of my soul, elevating my hopes and exciting my nerves to previously unknown levels.  I want him to be happy,not today or this minute, but I want lasting happiness.  That happiness that I have found in the calling of his mother. I want that to last forever for him.  I want him to not know pain anymore.  Although I know this is an unrealistic want, it burns deep within me, filling my chest with such a longing that the pressure hurts. I  want to turn my eyes heavenward and ask, "When is it enough?  Please give him a break, lead him where you want him, but give him a break."

The life of his childhood has been filled with uncertainty and unrest.  We have bonded over the ease of an absent father, dreading his arrival from work and the inability to predict its outcome.  We have spent hours in the past three years, trying fruitlessly to keep evil at bay by ourselves.  We have experienced the real saving powers of the Holy Ghost as he snatched us from the evil grip of a forced, early death.  We are bound together through tribulation that should not have been his.

I hope for this time to be his, without the need to look over his shoulder.  I hope that he can relax and finally taste some of the normal worries that someone his age should have.  I hope for the burden to lift from his shoulders and that his lungs might fill with freedom.  I hope for the talents and dreams that pull at the seams of his being to burst forth and create the future that he was meant to live.  I hope for him to live the life that he was designed for, the life that was predestined to be his and that I have glimpsed a few times over the years as I looked in to the unique eyes that are his.

I have watched his character grow on a baseball diamond.  His big heart and determination have risen when backed against a wall.  He was shown class and his love of the game against adversity.  As his pitcher's arm waned and his catcher's arm developed, my admiration for this young man that shares my genes grew immensely.  He is adaptable, he is strong, and he is a fighter.

The next chapter in his life will have to been written alone.  I am sure he will do well because it is who he is.

Tonight it feels like there is validation in conformity.  There is comfort there and safety there.  Here in this small town we all march along in the tight formed lines of the public eye, caring what they see, caring what their mouths say when all they really want is someone to feel like they do.  They want someone to be the same as them, so that their mediocrity looks normal, so that it comforts them in their cookie cutter beds and their cookie cutter life.  The life that is cut from the same place that every other one around them is and that all our ancestors before us lived.  The fear of being different is a fear of being lesser.  If we are the same we are not less.

I want to be different. I have known this my whole life.  I am not content to wear someone else's name like a badge of honor, living how they think that I should.  I love my kids and I want to be the best mom that I can be for them.  I don't want the public sticker that says I did a good job.  I want moral character and true happiness rooted so deep inside their souls that it radiates and leaves a trail that twists and turns throughout their lives.  That will be my measure of good parenting. I don't want them to conform.  I want them to be their best selves.  It seems like some people frown on this desire.   It seems as though they think that I should not want that for them. I should want other's definition of happiness. Happiness is being true to myself, every belief and experience.  That is where my happiness lies.