Better Half to Whole

I get the intention, but this phrase assumes home is safe, which isn’t always the case.

What do you do when home isn’t a place you want to be?
When turning inward feels overwhelming?
What about when you don’t feel anything?

When your sense of home gets disrupted, it’s not necessarily a safe place.

Divorce brought on total disruption to my experience of home.

HOME was shared with a partner who didn’t want to be there.
HOME was filled with constant reminders of the strain in my relationship.
HOME was hollow and charged at the same time.
HOME meant being one version of myself when friends were over, but then dropping the facade and crying myself to sleep later that night.

It was disorienting: the double vision, the confusion, and the tension between what it appeared to be and the actual experience of being in the relationship that felt like it was ripping me in two.

“Coming home to myself” was not a place I wanted to be.

I remember the morning I took our wedding photos down because I couldn’t handle looking at what felt like a lie. The blank wall was easier to accept than the pictures that felt like they were judging my innocence for believing in love.

I’m not as cynical now, but there were times when commitment felt like a bait and switch.

Divorce feels a little bit like an UNO reverse card or like every day is opposite day because things that once felt grounding and comforting can become the most intense sources of pain and anguish.

There aren’t too many things that I still have from my married days, but I’m sure I’ll unearth some as I continue to unpack.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the concept of home with this most recent move and I’m curious to see what “home” means for me here.

So if it’s not “coming home to ourselves”, what healing looks like somatically? DM me for the link to my next workshop. AND I’d love to hear in the comments what HOME means