So this happened...

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Out of the shower, there’s a towel wrapped around a wet body I recognize as mine own. The brush slides through hair, no tangles, easy. I oiled, toned and prepared my face. My hair was dried then flattened. I choose my outfit for comfort. Ironically skinny jeans wrapping my legs, my untoned thighs, keep me contained and make me feel secure. I add a velvet accented top that exposes my shoulders and show a little skin; I am going on a date. A date that will literally change everything. No pressure.

I feel classy; wearing my black pearl necklace I give myself a smirk. Classy is a way to walk through life, not a way to change it. Change takes courage, risk and tonight, Vince Camuto 4 inch lace up heels. I cannot think of a better way to shatter an old life than with a stiletto heel.

Uber delivers me to the party. My date is meeting me there; so is my ex-husband.

The atmosphere outside of the party is electric. Bars line the street, people everywhere some looking to numb pain, cure loneliness, others in search of a drink and maybe a phone number. Eager to not be there I leave the street. My place is not with them. My people are inside.  

The room is loud, and a nervous feeling comes over me; “perhaps this is not a good idea” my inner child says. She is the one who avoids conflict, hides during confrontation and silently deals with the aftermath on her own unhealthy terms.  She is the one who never asks for what she wants and accepts only what is given regardless of if it’s enough. I cave and send a text to my date, “I am giving you an out”. His response, “already on my way”.  

My date is my boyfriend although I hate that word. Boyfriend conjures up thoughts of a 20- somethings dating, blindly losing themselves in someone equally as lost. I did that. He is not that; he is my person. He may not be a forever person or maybe he will; time will tell. We juggle mortgages, kids, ex-spouses, work and choose to spend our stolen or free moments together. Tonight, he is meeting my ex-husband and he is showing up anyway. My nerves are silenced by his strength and my heart is growing a little more. I tapped my stiletto on the floor, the glass is beginning to crack.

Boyfriend walks in and I fill a cup for him. We try scream talking over the noisy crowd about our busy days and I intro him to friends from afar. It is one sided, most do not actually meet him but there is no hurry. Half of the room is filled with “friends” that I shared my life with for the last 10 years. The parents of my kids’ friends, my former neighbors, my book-club people, they are the people that made up the life of Wendy and Hunt.

In mid-sentence I look away from boyfriend and see Hunt standing next to me. “Oh hi. Hunt this is boyfriend. Boyfriend, this is Hunt.” Both knew they would meet the other before they got here but nothing feels more surreal for me as when they shake hands. They continue to talk, and I look around to see a few friends watching. Not many, it was not a scene but enough to notice. The glass has shattered. I am standing in the shards of what is left of my former life, looking at my present life and find I am still on solid ground. I am not lost; I am not drowning.

We can do hard things. Life requires we do hard things. That introduction is not the hardest thing I have done but it was not comfortable. Boyfriend and I have over 6 months together. We have not introduced our kids; we did not do holidays together because we both agree it’s not time for that. It was time for an introduction; I needed the introduction to happen. Boyfriend is kind and strong enough to give me that gift. Hunt is strong enough and loves me enough to do the same. I am blessed and in awe of it all.

Tomorrow I will wake up in shock of what I did and what the two men in my life did for me. We are not promised another day in this world. Tonight I declared my intention to live life intentionally, in the light, away from shadows and always in heels.