Some of you have commented that I haven’t been as involved on social media and maybe I’ve seemed less engaged lately. Thank you for your concern, patience and support. You were not wrong. My life has undergone a seismic change over the past year, but it’s only now I’m ready to share. This is probably the most vulnerable blog post I have ever written and I’ve been hesitant to write it.
You may recall, in August 2023, Todd and I celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary in Costa Rica. At that time I wrote a blog about how hard it was to keep a marriage together when you are parenting children with disabilities. As I wrote it, I was truly hopeful that our marriage would survive. After all, twenty five years ago Todd and I said our vows to each other and our life was wonderful in so many ways.
You also may recall that last summer I embarked on writing my memoir. Writing the book gave me an opportunity to reflect on my life - the blessings and the challenges. During this process I processed a lot of trauma - some I didn’t know I had - some with Todd, and some by myself. It also caused me to come to some stark realizations. My kids were getting older. Todd and I were going to be empty nesters in a few short years. For nearly the whole of our married life, my life had focused on the needs of my children. For once I was reaching a stage when I could focus on myself. What did I want for myself? It was a daunting question.
In trying to get to the heart of it, I realized that I had put a wall up for much of my marriage, not even knowing it. I had closed myself off. I knew I wanted to feel again - but I wasn’t sure where to begin. I couldn’t even share my story and feelings with the writer I had hired to help me with my memoir. My co-writer struggled to get me to open up and she still laughs about it now. I was so used to sharing my story in a very unemotional, organized way.
I had devoted the last 25 years of my life to advocating for, supporting, and loving my kids. I tried to be a good wife. Meet everyone’s expectations. But there just wasn’t enough time for everything - and certainly not enough time for me.
The Beginning
Early on when I found out about the kids’ diagnosis, I did whatever it took to help them. I didn’t prioritize myself or my marriage. I didn’t take care of myself and as a result my physical health and my memory suffered. While my kids thought it was funny that I lost my cell phone so many times a day, it worried me. I couldn’t remember anything unless I carried a notebook around. My doctor said it was stress related but I just got frustrated and internalized even more. I rushed to do more. I thought that if I just wrote one more email to the IEP team, if I reached out to one more person to explain Usher syndrome and deafblindness, things would be better and then I could slow down. But it didn’t work that way. Instead I ended up lost and numb.
Over the years I’d lay in my bed at night wishing things were different. But soon my thoughts would turn to problem solving for whatever was the issue of the day. I tried to think positively like “I’ve almost solved this issue with Dalton’s IEP and once we get more support, he’ll start to thrive again and I can stop being in fight or flight mode.” But with four kids, there was always some other problem to solve. I just couldn’t get off the hamster wheel. My mind was always running on hyperspeed. There was no time to relax because there was too much to be done. If I didn’t help them, who would? I didn’t know how to feel anymore.
I now know that it didn’t have to be all on me - I could have asked for help, especially from Todd. But, at the time, I didn’t think that. I just felt alone and I was silently drowning, while on the outside my life seemed perfect.
The Awakening
One day last fall I woke up and wondered where the joy was in my life. I felt lost. I knew at my core I needed to make changes but I was afraid because anything I did for me might hurt the kids and Todd. Then I took a step back and realized that that is not the lesson I wanted to teach my kids about life and relationships. I wanted my kids to know that it’s ok to be true to their authentic selves. It’s ok to venture beyond the safe and known if it’s what their hearts and minds are telling them to do.
And so I took the first step. I decided to learn to love myself again. I meditated, went to therapy, went to more therapy and tried to rewire my brain to not feel like I needed to be perfect all the time. I took a hard look at the question, “What do I want the second half of my life to look like?” I discovered that, in the deepest part of my soul, even though I was so thankful for the life I had, grateful for Todd, for the kids, and for who I had become, I wanted my future life to be different. Deep in my heart I knew I wasn’t happy, but I really, really wanted to be.
Becoming My Authentic Self
Bravely I began making changes in my life - gut wrenching changes. I moved out, asked for a divorce, and we sold our beloved ranch. I resigned from my job at University of Idaho so I could take care of myself and figure out what was next for me. I told you, seismic shifts! It’s been hard! Although I believe these changes were right for me, I feel like I’ve let most of the people down in my life and that feeling is awful! I still am coping with these feelings.
But, finally, I do love myself again and I’m happier than I ever could imagine. Once I got to that point, I also realized that I deserved to be loved. I am truly a different person now than I was a year ago. So many people have commented on it recently. My spark is back - it had been missing for a long time. I’m more calm and present in my own life.
Funny what happens when you are happy and least expect it, Bergen walked into my life. I just knew that I was meant to be with her. With her I didn't feel the weight of my life - I could laugh, be vulnerable, cry, and most importantly, feel again. I experience joy and love each and every day. I’ve cried more since I met her than I ever have in the rest of my life and it feels incredible.
The Lessons of Discovery
This journey has been hard. Everything as I knew it a year ago has shifted as I have reimagined and rebuilt my life.
I learned that I am so much happier now, not just because of Bergen or anything specific I “did” but because I was brave enough to choose myself - to realize that I can still be an amazing mom while being true to myself. I don’t have to hide my feelings from everyone and it’s ok to be vulnerable. And that vulnerability allowed me to understand my needs and desires.
I’m now able to be thankful for the last 25 years, the lessons that my boys have taught me about myself, for the laughs that Todd and I had as we messed up multiple times. I am so grateful for Todd, the joy and love of our marriage. I am grateful that God chose me to be those boys' mom. It has been my greatest joy.
I am also grateful for Bergen for looking past my pain on that first day we met and seeing that there was light inside me. Thank you for loving even my most vulnerable parts.
I am proud of my bravery this past year. My life is truly beautiful, it always was and I just couldn’t see or feel before. I can’t wait to see what is next on my journey.
What’s Next
Some things haven’t changed. I’m still doing what I love in the field of disability. I’m still focusing on helping families like mine and I can’t wait to get back into research again. The memoir I told you about, it comes out this summer and I hope you will read it.
My story, just like yours, is unique. It can be messy, chaotic and overwhelming, but it’s beautiful and it’s mine. If I could change anything it would be that I wish I had realized sooner that I didn’t have to lose myself in order for me to be the best mom I could be. I wish I would have learned to be vulnerable sooner.
My words of hard-earned advice: be true to yourself, whatever that looks like for you. If you open yourself up to something different, you never know - something even more beautiful might be right around the corner. And know you are not alone. If I can support you in any way, please never hesitate to reach out.
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