** DISCLAIMER: This is a long one. This is a brutal one << for me, moreseo than you. This is truth. This may or may not alter your perception of me, but for the sake of sheer prudence, if nothing else, I'm going for it. This is for me, more than it is for anyone else. But feel free to follow.
*Deep breath, Cori.
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| transparency | photog:khristianmendoza |
I think it's about time I let my fingers have some unabashed leeway on their little keyboard canvas. Since the construction of sentences has been a passion of mine since I could read them, you'll have to bear with me, because only once will I be bearing some of my innermost thoughts. Here we go.
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Hi. My name's Corin. I go by Cori, primarily to any and everyone who met me around college junior year or so. I tired quickly of the mis-pronunciations of my name, and so hacked off a letter to simplify it for even the most nubile mind. Phonetic accomodations, you're welcome.
I'm a mother of one. She is, for lack of any other descriptive term, my world. As I believe is the case for any parent of a small child or small children, it is with an indescribable fascination that I watch her progression from one day to the next. On certain days, I find myself in a state of contention over whether or not I will be able to keep up with her as she flies through absorption of tasks at which I'm sure I spent much more time when I was in her shoes. She's smart. Super smart. And funny. And a lot like me. It sparks some fear, yeah, in me, but then I remember that I am not the only parent in the world, let alone the fact that my child is healthy, happy and loved.
I am a daughter. I am a sister. I'm adopted. Most of you know that, but just in case there was any rumor of my being the biological product of two Caucasian parents, well.... :). I love my family. We're not perfect. My parents, peerless as I regard them, were guilty of certain faults during my childhood, just as every one of us is guilty on even our best days on this journey through earthly existence. They love me, unconditionally. I am thankful to be a reflection of that endearment, free from any stipulation. I've inherited their passion for helping other people, for open perspective, for art, for music, and for embracing life.
I am an employee. I work for a cause in which I do truly believe [well, I do now; Clearchannel doesn't count. Ever.], and I love what I do, even on the days that test the very thread of my patience.
I am a friend. Sometimes I'm not a good one, and more often than not, any breakdowns could easily be attributed to my languishing of friend responsibilities. Good news for me is that I have friends who realize I'm just a straw short of crazy, and that in all my bouts of irrational and brash decisions, spontenaeity and/or ill-planned endeavors, I'm still worth a fight. I don't deserve that much credit, but I am grateful for it.
I am a wife.
Stop.
Here's where it's going to get real for me.
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I am a married human being.
I am part of an independent family entity.
I am failing miserably at it.
Didn't see that coming? Sorry.
REWIND:
Earlier tonight, I had dinner with a friend of mine. At her bidding, though subliminally at my absolute need. I had hesitations a mile and a half high on obliging. I'm a talker, but I'm not a talker. As much as try, I'm not and never have been inclined to willingly divulge the hieroglyphics that live on my brain's deepest cave wall. It's just not my thing. That being said, guess what I did tonight?
.... I divulged some of those scribbles to my friend, and didn't regret doing it. The taste of vulnerability to me is something like 1 part vinegar and 1 part raw flax seed oil; I run from it like any human being would. I let go, for the first time. I said things that up until tonight were only inner dialogues. I honestly couldn't tell you what my expectations were walking into it, but I can tell you this: here's what met me:
"Cori, I'm here because I love you. I'm here to listen. I'm here."
Whoa.
Here's the really un-fun part. It's called accountability, and I absolutely loathe it in the context of self-application.
I am fickle. I am broken. I am unhappy, and I am stubborn. I am self-righteous in spite of the standard set for me to be the opposite. I am undecided. I am a fighter, but I am tired. I'm disorganized but meticulously detail-oriented. I feel disheveled. I'm complacent; numb. I'm stuck. I'm wrong more than I'm right.
I am not the only person who has ever struggled through a relationship. I'm not the only person who has found themself so deep in a stream of controversial thought that it develops a +tax currency of sleepless nights. I'm not the only one who has stood around with an auto-pilot smile below eyes clouded by my own diffidence. I was reminded tonight that I am not alone.
One of the things brought to my attention tonight was that my blog outlet has carried a certain facade up to this point, too.
*Thanks a lot, Cori, for throwing a rusted wrench in what should be a care-free blog.... :/
** To which I must reply, "Welp........."
Friends, call this what you will, but I caution you: It's about get raw.
By raw, I mean this:
My marriage has failed.
I didn't get to this point on my own, but at the same time, I didn't get here without blemish, either.
This was not an overnight verdict, nor was it an overnight wrong turn or for that matter an overnight fix. There is something to be said about something for which you fight, and fight...and fight some more, only to wake up in the same broken spirit and disappointment.
This is not a blog for bashing. This is not a blog meant to bring forth and display all the malarky that comprises what ultimately is "my failed marriage." I am not proud of this. I have fought my entire life for the things in which I believe, for the things about which I am passionate, but more and most importantly for the people in whom I trust, believe, admire, respect and love.
For many reasons, I have lost many of the aforementioned in my marriage. I have reached ground zero and my heart has, in spite of my incessant pleading prayers, turned cold and complacent in regard to the hope of resolving the issues at hand and striving to salvage this mess.
Please feel free to judge me. I know many and most of you have, if not for any other reason than the fact that my silence is, to most, viewed as a sign of defeat, admittance of guilt and/or a guilt-laden conscience. I would only ask that you recognize that my refrain from the fight is none of the above, but more absolutely my choice to advance along a higher road, without slander. Those who are genuinely interested in the entire picture for more than just the element of dramatic social muse, you know exactly where and how to find me, and are more than welcome to do so with any questions.
I oblige my own notion that there are more people in the world than just myself facing the big D word. Like I said before, I'm not proud of it, and for all intensive purposes, it goes entirely against the core grain of my religious beliefs. I personally serve a God whose vision of marriage is a life-long commitment, purposed to withstand even the most ruthlessly brutal circumstances. I get that. What I also believe is that I serve a God of forgiveness. I serve a God whose love for me is unwaivering, regardless of whatever ailment I have - especially the emotional ones. Lucky me, because that's a long list.
My brain is exhausted. My heart? Even moreso. I don't expect many of you - if any, to take sides with me. I really don't believe there should even be sides, but rather a level of maturity we could all achieve in recognizing that it really just didn't work out, that we should BOTH be blamed equally, and that in the interest of moving on in a civil fashion for our daughter's sake, the hostility that can so easily creep in must be dealt with promptly and agreeably.
This isn't going to be easy, but what I can say, is that this particular chapter in my life is ending. I never planned it, nor did I ever expect to get here, but what I refuse to do is extend it any further than I already have, just for the sake of putting words on a page, so to speak.
I am still me.
I am still Corin... and she is still Cori.
I am still a sister, a daughter, and a mother.
I am still a Christian. I'm a broken one, but I'm still here.
I am still hurting. That is normal I hear, and as much as I detest acknowledging emotion, I will, and for the time being, I'll embrace that as part of the healing process.
I am still capable of and willing to love, unabashedly and without judgment, but it will just take time.
I still love you, dear friends.
...... I think that's about it for now.
*Sigh.
xo | cmd
