Tag Archives: moving on

#10forNala…in memory.

One week ago, I lost my fur soulmate.

And in about one more week, I plan to run 10 miles for Nala. 10 miles in memory of her short – but most cherished – years with us.

I haven’t run double-digits since this time last year, when I was a #runsherpa for my sister and brother-in-law’s marathon, but the day after Nala’s passing, it all came together in my brain.

I wanted to run for her. Run for her memory. Run for her companionship. Run for her loyalty, love, and laughter she gave me for the last 10 years. And run for me. For the therapy and its cathartic abilities as I mourn the loss of her.

We ran 7.5 miles on Friday. We ran 8 miles yesterday. We’ll run 9 miles early next week…and perhaps next weekend, we’ll run #10forNala. I’ll send an update via instagram when we decide to run our 10 miles in memory…and if anyone would like to join #teampeixoto virtually, we would love that. You can run 10 miles. You can walk 10,000 steps. You can run a 10K. You can run for 10 minutes. You can walk for 10 minutes. You can do anything that makes you happy.

Are you in? #10forNala…the most charismatic and unforgettable kitty ever. Always remembered, never forget. 8.26.03 – 9.25.13.


So, about that secret…

About this time last Sunday, we were putting an offer on a house (the secret!). One that we felt, at the time, was ‘it’. Everything we were looking for. An offer that got accepted late on Monday evening.

And today, at almost the same time, we are backing out of that very offer.

I sit here in tears, saddened at what I thought – what we thought – was truly the house we had been looking for, as it had the perfect mix of move-in condition, yard and deck, and feel to it that screamed ‘us’ and in a town that we both really love.

But after a home inspection yesterday, and some sage advice from a few close family members, combined with our own growing apprehension about these concerns they, and we, began to have, it became clear that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t *it* after all. As hard as it is to see past the plethora of good qualities in this house – and the list is pretty endless – the bad, the possible warning signs became just too evident, and hard to see beyond. From a very old roof (that we’d likely get stuck footing the bill for) to questions about past flooding (three sump pumps seemed three too many…), to some bowing in the floors that seemed perhaps more than just age and natural settling, we began to wonder if those opinions of others were right…and that maybe we were letting the good qualities of this home cloud our judgement.

After watching another episode of Joel Osteen this morning, his message was focused on praying BIG prayers, and not settling for less, or for ‘just enough.” Dream big, expect more and don’t settle for less. If that isn’t a universal truth and screaming clear message, I don’t know what is. As we sit here and mourn the loss of ‘what couldn’ve been,’ we are focusing on blind faith, trust, and the bigger truth of ‘what WILL be’ in our future...the right home, the right time, the right next step to continue where our story began.


Do we talk about divorce *too* much?

And by we, I mean society.

I’ve read so many articles about a certain celebrity who shall remain nameless (because I don’t honestly want to focus on *that* either!) and her quickie marriage and pending divorce, and several blogs on the same topic, but this one from Emma  at Divorced Before 30 struck me most, on Divorce Stats for People in their 20’s, about just how common divorce is at this age range, and well, all ages, really.

But my question is…so what? 

Why does it matter that divorce rates are high? (I realize I am going to get a lot of differing opinions on this one!!)

Why do so many automatically start judging?

Why does it feel like a black mark (or appear as one)?

And why does it feel like failure? The ultimate life failure, at that.

I guess since I have gone through it, I just don’t see it as a negative anymore. I don’t see it as failure (clearly!), I don’t judge (nor did I previously either). More than ever, I think divorce is almost a fact of life where many have been touched by it or affected by it. If they were not divorced, someone in their family is, or a friend, or a coworker.

Divorce happens. 

Move on.

As much as I believe in the sanctity of marriage (and yes, I can believe in it, even though I am divorced, I firmly believe) and as much as I want to be married again…to be a wife, to have a husband, I don’t think there is always ‘just one’ person for everyone out there. Clearly, this was not the case for me. There are plenty of examples where this is the case for some (I obviously have many friends and family that are married to who I believe, are their ‘just one’), but I just don’t think it’s that black and white anymore. I just feel so strongly about this and get so frustrated when I read headline after headline about divorce and they are always negative.

Why can’t there be a happy ending? There can…because there almost always is a happy ending after divorce.

I am living proof.

I know many that are reaching  (or reached) their happy ending (hello Shannon, Sunshine/CBG, T, Nicki, Sally, SingleishMomMistySoccer Mom, Magnolia, RondaNew Beginnings, Ms Brookie, and Emma, just to name a few!!) post-divorce. And that makes me so incredibly happy to see, because it takes bravery and courage to get through divorce. Divorce takes guts. Divorce is not failure. Divorce is, in some cases, a triumph. Divorce is, in some cases, the best decision ever made for you (*raising hand*). 

If we talk about divorce so much…I just wish it was portrayed more realistically. Like this. Celebrated for what you become on the other side, not trashed because maybe you made a bad decision, or maybe there are circumstances that nobody understands that led to divorce.

Divorce, at its simplest, yet most gut-wrenching form, means irretrievably broken. But it also means finding out what you are made of, and how to use it as an inflection point in your life towards the better.

The life you were meant to live. 


5 Years and 6,000 Miles.

5 years ago and 6,000 miles away…I got married.

And today? Well, today, I am nowhere near where I thought I would be on this day, 5 years later. In truth, this date sort of snuck up on me (the date ‘sounded familiar’ and I wasn’t really sure why), and in truth, the ‘milestone’ itself is insignificant to me now, 5 years later. And let me tell you why.

Simply, it just isn’t.

One of my best friends (who is also divorced, but also now remarried and about to have a baby. Talk about full circle, right? Incredible.) told me early on (as she was sort of still fresh from her own divorce at the time): ‘those anniversaries, those milestones and memories…they fade with each year, until you no longer remember them or their significance.” And she was right.  Eventually, you don’t get a lump in your throat when you see the date appear on the calendar. Eventually, you don’t get the urge to text, email or call them on said anniversaries…to commiserate, or just to say hello. Eventually, you don’t see your life in that light anymore because you aren’t living a post-divorce life, you are just living life.

Eventually…you move on. 

But at the same time, I can’t help but use this date as a way to do a little retrospective on the then vs. the now. Because it is just such a different life. It is a blessed, full, happy life that I don’t quite think I’d ever have reached if I were still married to my ex-husband. I don’t know that I ever would have saw it that way either. Never mind ‘not seeing the forest from the trees,’ I wasn’t even seeing the trees in the forest.

Then…I loved immaturely. We were young when we fell in love, and quite honestly, that’s where our love stayed. The love we fostered at age 19 and 20.

Now…I love deeply, with my entire being. The love I feel for M starts from the tips of my toes all the way through to the strands in my hair. It is radiating.

Then…I followed. I reacted, but didn’t act. I smiled, but didn’t speak.

Now…I lead. I try new things, I take chances. I do things that scare me.

Then…I agreed. I went with the flow. I didn’t make waves.

Now…I confront when I need to. I speak my opinions. I question.

Then…I lived.

Now…I live an amplified life.

5 years and 6,000 miles…“I hope you never look back, but you never forget…I hope you always forgive, and you never regret ”

The here and now.

No, I will never forget 9-11-01.

I don’t think anyone will.

And while I will never forget and while I have read some beautiful posts reflecting back on the day that changed America, I wouldn’t do it justice to try and post one of my own on that topic.

But what I will reflect on is the day that changed me forever. Well, not even so much the day, but the journey that culminated in that day, two years ago.

The day of my divorce. 9-11-09.

It was a bittersweet day. I arrived with Pete, much to the puzzlement of both of our attorneys, and as we sat side by side at the courthouse, waiting for our turn with the judge, I felt like I was sitting there, watching a shell of myself. The shell of myself slowly starting to return, because, at that point, I just wanted to move forward, not sit in limbo of not-quite-married-not-quite-divorced. We sat there, chatting about our upcoming short sale, which was set to close about a month later, on 10-8-09, and then our names were called.

We stood at the podium. We answered the judges questions…the one question I will never forget? “Do you believe your marriage is irretrievably broken?”


Without skipping a beat.

Out we walked. Didn’t really talk too much, other than to say, ‘wow, it’s really over, isn’t it?” He dropped me off at our house. I said goodbye, and walked inside. It was then that I broke down. I sat on the couch, and I cried. I don’t think I ever felt more alone, yet, in a small way, feeling ready to move forward. I looked around, and I couldn’t wait for the day to come where this would be just a faded memory of a lifetime past.

Today is that day.

Three days ago was the anniversary of the day I met the love of my life. The here and now.

That time? A faded memory. I will not forget. But it will not define me. I define me. This is my life.