In early January, my dad found out he had colon cancer. On January 31, he had surgery to remove a large portion of his colon to try and get rid of the cancer. Tests were immediately done on 24 of his lymph nodes, and after a few days, we found out that all the cancer had been successfully removed. Even with the cancer out, he was still very weak, tired, and in a state that made him very uncomfortable.

My sister (Jule) and I went home for a week to help my mom out and be there for my dad. Interestingly enough, I discovered he was there for me as much as I was there for him. So I thought I’d write him a letter…

Dad,

So this is going to sound weird, but I don’t think I realized how alike we are until you had cancer.

When I got divorced, I didn’t want people to worry about me. I wanted to be seen as strong, moving forward, happy, on the other side.

I said “yes” to so many things. I filled my schedule. I loaded up my social media with all the great things I was doing.

However, a couple of months ago, I think everything hit me. I was so tired. My self-confidence was low. And I just didn’t feel like myself.

I started figuring out I had to say “no” to more things. I needed to prioritize my health and my well being. I had filled my life with too much, and I wasn’t letting anything new in- or cleaning anything old out.

I needed to let myself be weak. I needed to let myself be ok with not being the strongest. And Jesus- I could cry sometimes.

Dad- when I saw you at the hospital, recovering in your bed, you were weak. You were tired. Just thinking of your face as you looked at me- I could see it in your eyes that you didn’t want me to see you that way. I know this- because I’m the same way.

When I got divorced, I didn’t want people staring at me, feeling sorry for me, asking over and over, “are you ok?”

“Um, no. No, I’m not ok. Ok?”

But I wasn’t going to respond like that. How could I? I don’t want to make people uncomfortable, or God forbid, awkward. That’d be the worst.

But wait. Maybe- just maybe- I should be ok with not being ok sometimes.

Look- I went through divorce. You went through surgery- and cancer! Let’s be honest. Maybe we should let ourselves be weak for a minute here.

What I learned from you this past week, Dad, is just because I’m weak, doesn’t mean I’m not strong. Just because I’m sad, doesn’t mean I’m not happy.

You taught me to be vulnerable.

So now that I’m vulnerable, I’ll just get these things out that I haven’t really been forward about with you or anyone in the family. I am so excited for Jule to get married. But maybe it’s hard to hear about the wedding all the time. I was told by the person I cared about more than anyone else, “you are not my priority.” And that affected my confidence. And sometimes I’m just not going to be happy and social and all smiles. And that really has nothing to do with all of you. I just need time to myself.

I wanted to give you that permission too. It’s ok that you’re weak. It’s ok that you’re tired. It’s ok that you’re scared. Because you’re still one of the strongest, most loving, and most fearless people I know. And I will always love you, no matter what.

Love, Miss

“And we sang our song for the little thing
Magic call, but the joy you bring
Running it down the line
Wish you could find that love is a fragile thing
Magic call from a pretty thing
Maybe it might be time
For a better day.”- Avicii

There are an incredible amount of tough moments when going through a divorce. Even after it’s all said and done, there are so, so many hard days. You have those moments when you realize that’s it. It’s over. Everything you built up, that you worked on- it’s not happening anymore. Life as you imagined it has changed forever.

But my hardest day was the day I signed it all away.

When I was going through all of it- the decision to end, the couch hopping, moving, sharing the news with friends and family- I guess it just didn’t fully sink in that it was final- because it technically wasn’t. But let me tell you, when you’re sitting with these papers in front of you, and you know that at that moment- at that single moment- when the ink hits the paper- it’s done- that’s a moment. It’s almost like your life flashes before your eyes. When we met. (S) College. (a) Dating. (r)  The proposal. (a) Moving in. (h) The planning. (R) The wedding. (o) The dog. (s) The house. (s) And. Now I’m no longer married.

I honestly didn’t expect it to hit me that hard, but it really is a pretty insane thing. When you break up with someone, yes, you decide to break up, and it’s done. But the act of signing something and officially ending it is pretty powerful.

It’s also pretty powerful because it signals the day, at least for me, that promised better days.

I remember leaving my lawyer’s office in a daze. But then, I opened the door, and it was like this fresh, cold air pushed my chin up, and there it was- downtown. This new life. I went back to work and was greeted by a bottle of red wine. I met friends for dinner that night and was greeted by laughs. I went home and was greeted by love (in the form of snail mail- I’m sorry, but it’s still one of the best ways to show you care).

Yes. I had signed to an end of something that meant so much to me. But I had signed to start something that would mean so much to me. I’m grateful for that hardest day because it makes me so grateful for the better days.

When I went through my divorce, some people would tell me, “You’re so strong.” I appreciated hearing those words, but you really don’t feel so strong when you’re going through it. Yes, you made an incredibly hard decision. Yes, you did something to change your life when others fear change. But Jesus, you just broke a vow. You just ended something that wasn’t supposed to end. You quit. That’s what it feels like. So, yeah. I wasn’t raising my arms up like Rocky at the top of the stairs. I was cracking half a smile in hopes I could quickly get to somewhere secluded so I could shed a couple tears, clean myself up, and keep moving.

They say “time heals,” and it’s true. But it took some time for me to realize my own strength. And it was December 28, 2015 when I first felt like that “strong” person people were talking about.

I tell people that when I was considering ending my marriage, I wasn’t thinking about someone else. I was thinking about a place. And that place was an apartment in downtown Indianapolis. I was actually envisioning a lot of what I’m doing right now- living on my own, doing my own thing, taking care of me- and just me. So it wasn’t a huge surprise when I signed a lease to rent my apartment downtown in mid-December.

But then, I had to move. So on December 28, I got back from Christmas break in Ohio, and I packed. I had already taken some of my belongings to a storage unit to empty out the house so it was ready to go on the market. But there was so much more to do. Boxes and boxes. Clothes, pictures, furniture, jewelry, books, CDs (yes, CDs). I was packing up this life that I had so many plans for.

Then I had to take my bed. My bed I had bought when I had just graduated from college was now one of the guest beds. God, I loved that bed. I was actually very excited to get it back in my life every day. However, when I moved it, I had to move our other guest bed into that room for staging the house.

Let me tell you, moving box springs and mattresses on your own is hard. Let me also tell you- I’m TERRIBLE at asking people for help. I’m sure some of my friends are going to read this and immediately think, ‘Sarah, you should’ve called me!’ But I think I had to do it on my own. I guess I had been doing a lot on my own for a while if I think about it. But this packing- this moving of things- I had to do it by myself.

I moved the mattress and box spring downstairs. I then went and got the other mattress and box spring. They were so heavy. I was pulling, then pushing. Trying with all my might to just get it where it needed to be. Tears started streaming down my face. I was so angry. FUCK. FUCK. WHY THE FUCK. WHY.

And then, it was done. I got the mattress on top of the box spring. I wiped the tears off my face, the sweat off my brow. I put the sheets on the bed, the comforter on top, then the pillows. It was ready to be shown.

I then walked downstairs, and I looked at it. All of it. Here were my things I had just moved into this place a year and a half ago. And now they’re moving out.

‘Jesus. I just did all of this.’

I then took a photo because at that moment, I did finally feel- and actually see- my own strength.

The next day, my sister and friend Todd helped me move everything downtown (yes, I actually did ask for help on that part). Downtown to MY place. My little piece of heaven looking out at the Indianapolis skyline.

Later that night, I had friends over to share this next step with me. This was the start to a new chapter. And I have to say- when you find moments when you’re actually smiling, actually laughing, actually feeling good about yourself, and ACTUALLY realizing your own strength- you have to really cherish them. And of course- open a bottle of champagne.

I’m sure you’ve heard the saying “when you assume, you make an ass out of u and me.” (Get it? It spells assume. With the a-s-s and then the u…ok, you get it.)

One of the hardest parts of splitting up with someone is the stories that accompany it and the assumptions people make. We’ve all been there- either in the relationship that ended or outside of that relationship. People hear things, say things, and believe things. And when it gets back to you, it hurts.

Now, there are different tiers of outsiders to the romantic relationships we have. We have our acquaintances, colleagues, and those we interact with mostly on a social level. What they say or assume may hurt a bit, but I’m not really talking about them. I’m talking about the people that you were closest with while you were in your relationship, and now, some of them may have a completely different view on your character because of assumptions.

I unfortunately learned about this the hard way. And you probably think I’m going to tell you the story of what I have heard being said about me. But no. I wanted to write about when I really failed at being a friend by making my own assumptions.

About four years ago, my friend Jack got married. I was actually in the wedding. They had a daughter shortly after, and they then moved out of the state. If you know me, you know I’m terrible at the phone. Therefore, I’m pretty terrible at keeping in touch. Luckily, I have a lot of friends that are the same way, and we pick up just where we left off. Anyway, I digress. Point is, we didn’t talk much after he moved.

About a year after Jack moved away, I heard from a mutual friend that he was getting a divorce. Not only was he getting a divorce, but he had left his wife and daughter and moved about 8 hours away.

I was disappointed. I was angry. ‘How could he do this? That jerk. What the hell was he thinking? Leaving his wife and daughter like that. Dick.’

I didn’t hear from him, so I assumed this was all true, and I assumed he wasn’t talking to me because he was ashamed to tell me what he had done.

About a year later, Jack reached out to me after a very long time of silence. Ironically enough, he reached out right when things in my own marriage were getting to their worst. I told him what I was going through. He then told me his own story.

He had been cheated on. Yes, he did move, but he had his reasons. The important thing now is that he was currently on the way to moving back to be closer to his daughter.

A few months after I split up with my ex, Jack came to visit. We talked and talked and talked. And I finally got the opportunity to apologize.

Well, not only did I learn how important communication is from Jack, but I learned how important forgiveness is as well. My apology was followed by a big hug from Jack. “Please, don’t worry. I know how it is. I forgive you, and you know I still love you.” I was shocked.

With it now being over a year since my split, I get it. When you’re first going through all of this, your head is spinning. You’re thinking, ‘God, what do they think? What is she saying? I haven’t heard from her. Oh God, does he think this was all my fault? I loved them, and I’ll never speak to them again. They probably hate me.’ But after a while, you come to peace with it, and you forgive. Because again. We’ve all been there. And honestly, it’s hard on both ends. Look how long it took for me to talk to Jack. And I was in his wedding for God’s sake.

I wanted to share my story about Jack because I learned the following:

If you hear something about someone close to you, just ask them what’s going on. I don’t think any close friend minds you checking in or clarifying something you heard. They’ll probably appreciate it more than you know. Wouldn’t you?

If you are on the other side, and you haven’t heard from someone, don’t assume they’re not thinking of you. They’re probably in a hard position too. Look forward. Move ahead. And I can bet that if your friendship is a true friendship, you’ll be able to someday reconnect. And when you do, embrace them, and tell them you forgive them.

And let’s be brutally honest here, there are probably people you were close to that you just may never hear from again. You may never talk to them again. I have some of those, and it’s still hard to think about. But if they know me, if they truly know me, then they know I tried my hardest. And hopefully they know, even through the silence, I still appreciate their presence in my life, even if it may be over. And I will always love them.

But if you’re reading this, and you are in a position where you are still feeling down about what you think others are saying, assuming, or gossiping about, I leave it to Mr. Steve Jobs and these wise words:

“Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma- which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”

“Happiness, not in another place but this place…not for another hour, but this hour.”
― Walt Whitman

It was the morning of February 28, 2015. I was getting ready to go to the gym. Then I got a phone call from my co-worker, Jessica.

“Karen had a heart attack last night. Sarah. She didn’t make it. She didn’t make it…”

Karen (in the yellow sweater in the picture) worked with us at the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra. She spent 28 years of her life there. I saw her just the day before. We had celebrated her birthday just the week before.

Karen loved our team so, so much. And we loved her. But Karen was always stressed and seemed to always have something challenging her in work or her personal life. I worried about her because I felt like she had all this anxiety that made her unhappy.

I calmed down for Jessica so we could understand each other as we made plans to meet and figure out how to tell the rest of the team. I hung up the phone. My knees went weak. My right arm dropped, my hand went limp, and my phone fell to the floor. My body followed shortly after, and I sobbed. I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. Everything went through my head. ‘I just saw her. We just laughed together. We just had coffee together.’

‘Wait. Was she happy?’

The sobbing immediately stopped. I inhaled, exhaled, inhaled, exhaled. Then it came out of my mouth.

“Wait. Am I happy?”

I’ve been watching this new show on NBC called “This is Us.” Great show. I highly recommend it. In one of the episodes, the daughter is on a plane to New York to visit the rest of her family for Thanksgiving. The plane hits a lot of turbulence- the kind of turbulence that immediately leads all the passengers to believe that this may not end well. It suddenly stops, and the daughter, Kate, realizes that the woman next to her had held her hand the entire time. They take a minute, and then the woman says, “I thought I was going to die.” Kate nods. And then the woman continues. “My husband is cheating on me. And I continue to take it. I’m getting a divorce. Life’s too short to settle for that nonsense.”

So. What is wrong with us? Do we really need death to make us realize that maybe we should do something about our unhappiness? Do we need the threat of possibly not having one more day to launch us into what might be best for us? I knew I hadn’t been happy for a long time, but it took my friend unexpectedly dying to make me realize that yeah, maybe we don’t have much time. And maybe we do. But that’s unknown. So maybe we should start living the life we want for ourselves. Right. Now.

Even writing about her right at this moment, tears are streaming down my face. It was so unexpected and so hard. But wow. Karen. She gave me such a gift. She reminded me that if tomorrow is my last day, I better make damn sure that I’m going out knowing I lived my life to my fullest. And I’m not the best version of me unless I’m happy with myself. And on February 28, 2015, I realized, it’s time to change.