Trust.

Recently, I heard someone say, “Sometimes, trust hurts.” 

And this definitely can be true of mortal relationships. Sharing part of your heart with someone can be a blessing to you, and it can also hurt if the person on the receiving end doesn’t treat it with care and respect.

I’m so grateful to know that there is a God who we can trust completely. If you choose to give your heart to God, you choose to let Him help guide your life. And you can have 100% confidence in him. You can trust him. Why? Because “when faced with temptation, He shunned it. When offered the world, He declined it. When asked for His life, He gave it.” President Monson.

I’m grateful to believe in a God who is faithful to me- always. ❤️

I’ve been trying really hard to trust in the love He has for me, including for my physical appearance. That’s been hard. I’m honestly not sure what to do with my thoughts which constantly tear me down. But forever ringing in my mind is the thought that “God created ME. And he doesn’t create mistakes. In fact, he saw that I was very good.” The Genesis account uses the words “very good” to describe all of Gods creations after he created Eve. This phrase can also mean “precious” or “beautiful.” 

And that’s how God feels about his creations.

So I’m trying to believe him. 

Which leads me to the photo - I cut my hair, hoping that it could be a fresh start in believing God when he tells me things. I miss my long hair, but I think this is going to be a great start to a new kind of trust that my appearance and looks have nothing to do with my worth, AND I am beautiful. 

Fairytales.

 Ever since my divorce, there has been a thread of questions on my mind that I know are based in fear and doubt, but they come up so often that I have a hard time cutting the thread and throwing them away. I know it is likely hard to dispel these thoughts because I have reinforced the negative, faulty core beliefs about myself for so long that I readily and easily can convince myself to believe a lie. Manipulative relationships are the worst - including the one I sometimes live with myself. 

My thread of dark questions is related to a loss of hope: Is it really possible that someday, someone will want to love and accept me for who I am, who will actually want to be loyal to me for the rest of his life? Does that actually, really exist?

You know, like a fairytale? 

A thought recently came to my mind that I have clung to ever since my most recent battle with that dark slew of questions : 

Alissa, you have permission to believe in fairytales.

I often find myself thinking that I want to marry a best friend - someone who I spend time with because I want to and he wants to. But so often in this dating world, every time I want to be friends with a guy, he never continues the friendship. No matter how hard I try to be kind, to reach out, to invite, to just be a human being - he doesn't reciprocate. It leaves me to wonder if guys don't trust me, or perhaps they don't like me at all and that is why they reject me. What is so harmful about wanting to just be his friend first? 

That's when I tell myself that it's okay to believe in fairytales. And actually, I have the permission to do so. Fairytales in books and movies are so wonderful and yet so heart wrenching. They are so beautiful and yet they bring the tears so quickly when I find myself asking if that really does happen in life. Do men really want to win the girl's affection? Do they really care about her kindness and personality and not just her looks? 

I have always believed I'm plain. I've always compared myself to my beautiful sisters. They have the most gorgeous faces and I have always just had mine - usually red, dotted with acne and freckles, and never knowing how to put on makeup because I feel awkward in it. Almost like I'm someone I'm not when I wear it. I always used to tell myself that I hoped my personality could shine through what I lacked in beauty. The only man who ever told me I was beautiful later turned on me and said I wasn't the model wife he had wanted. And he was disappointed in that. I hear his voice every time I look at myself in the mirror. Not because I want to hear it, but because it hurt so badly when it came from my husband, the one man whom I loved the most and hurt me the deepest. 

And I think, looking back on that moment….that was the day I stopped believing in fairytales. That moment when he wouldn’t let me leave the car until he had said what he wanted to. That moment when I wasn’t sure if I would be safe or not. That moment, there, in the dark, where no one knew where I was…That moment when I could no longer look at him, for fear of his ever piercing glance. 

Fairytales. I think I hope that they are true, but I don’t have the courage to believe that they are. 

And maybe, by the word “fairytale,” I really just mean a story where both people are so intimately and emotionally and spiritually connected to one another that no matter what happens, they’ll fight to keep their love strong. What else in this world could be better to fight for than love? Even the gospel of Jesus Christ is built in the love of God and the love of the Saviour. Surely, the life I live can reflect but a small aspect of that love. 

Yet, here I am…incapable of even loving myself. 

And so, I sit and repeat quietly, with tears in my eyes, “Alissa….It’s okay to believe in fairytales…”

Lyrics

 I love music so much - it’s hopefully going to keep being a hobby that I work at and make time for. I love music because I can feel peace, joy, happiness… I connect to God because I feel the music touch me in my mind and heart. Truthfully, it’s a spiritual experience. 

Every once in a while though, a song touches me because I’m grieving, and it puts words to my feelings. Today, I just want to leave those here - get them out of the dark, secluded, grief stricken chambers of my heart and let someone know that today, I was hurting. 

“Don’t wish, don’t start. Wishing only wounds the heart. I wasn’t born for the rose and the pearl. There’s a girl I know. He loves her, so I’m not that girl.” (I’m not that girl, Wicked)

“Hand in my hand, and you promised to never let go. We’re walking a right rope - high in the sky, we can see the whole world down below. Never sure- will you catch me if I should fall?” (Tight Rope, The Greatest Showman)

« Les jours défilent, mais tu n’es pas là, et dans la nuit je cherche encore tes bras. J’ai baissé ma garde mais tu as tout changé. Je m’étais habituée à être celle que tu aimais… » (The days go on, but you are not here. And in the night, I still reach for your arms. I let down my guard, but you completely changed. I was getting used to being the one that you loved…”)

(French translation of  “Someone you loved, chorus)

It's hard again.

I have been pondering for a while about the past couple years of my life. I constantly wonder if I am healed in certain areas because I go through waves of feeling like I still don’t know who I am. I know I have rediscovered parts of me that were lost, and yet… I know there is a long way still to go to feel like I am "me" again. 

I just wanted to compile a list of some of the things that tug at my heart; a list of what I experienced that sometimes my brain tells me weren't real, or were entirely my fault. I don't fully understand why I feel the need to write this, but if it can be of any help to anyone who may have / have had similar experiences, then I write this to you. And I want you to know that I have full confidence that the Savior can heal it all. 

I know what it's like to sit next to a spouse in the car, at church, at the dinner table, who is depressed and distant. I feel the heaviness of wondering how to help them climb out of the darkness and the hope that they’ll realize you’re trying your best to help, to stay positive, to carry the load with them. I know the feeling of wanting to connect with someone who wants to disconnect from everything, and realizing you are powerless to help.

I know how it feels to listen to a spouse - the one you are sealed to in the temple - doubt their faith and wonder if any of it means anything. I know how it feels to listen to them reason God right out of existence, doubt the veracity of the Book of Mormon, and criticize doctrine. 

I know how it feels to ache to be hugged, to ache to have a loved one reach for your hand like they used to, only to realize that they haven't initiated hand holding for weeks now. I know the anguish of heartbreak when your loved one relapses, when he looks at porn over and over, when he weeps and weeps about his mistake, but doesn't bother to ask you how you are doing.

 I know the heartache of going to the temple alone, without your spouse; the feeling of "this isn't right" as you leave him in the waiting room while you continue into the temple because, of the two of you, you're the only one worthy to enter. 

I know self loathing and self denigration. I know the depths of gas lighting and manipulation. I know what it's like to not know who to trust, to not even know what to pray about, and to not feel connection to anyone or anything. 

I know the weight of carrying a secret about him on your shoulders, wondering what he will do to you if he finds out you accidentally told it. I know the sadness of watching him choose not to partake of the sacrament, wondering if you should put your arm around him or squeeze his hand a bit tighter so he knows you’re there, yet not wanting him to feel like you’re drawing attention. 

I know the deep darkness of isolation and fear. I know about distress and anxiety in intimacy, and never feeling like my body was beautiful enough. I know about worrying if what is happening to you in intimate moments is appropriate or not. I know about wondering if you are in danger from your own spouse. I know the feeling of fear, wondering if what you do will make him angry or not. I know the feeling of trying to guess what it was that you did wrong this time - if what you said or laughed at or suggested or shared was what caused the problem. I know what it's like to feel like you are walking on eggshells, never knowing when you would get it trouble next. 

I know the abyss of hopelessness and despair, the desire to leave the world behind because no one cares about you anyway. I know the feeling of planning my death, walking over to carry it out, and being saved only by God - who knows exactly how to remind me of my value and enoughness. 

I understand the pain of working through weakness. The desire to make a marriage better, yet knowing it takes two people to work on it. I know the heartbreak of hearing from your husband that he doesn't want to spend time with you, ever, and that he wishes you looked and acted differently. I know the feeling of confusion when he admits to have known exactly what he was doing by manipulating you, for your whole marriage, yet not seeking to fix what he had done wrong. I know the fear you have to look him in the eye, the fear you feel when you have to bring something up, the fear of offending him, the fear of what to say to him during conversation that won’t start an argument. 

I know the loss of brain power because you rack your brain to find out what you could have possibly done wrong this time… wondering how to apologize, how to do better, how to try harder to not make him angry. 

I know the agony of betrayal, when loving someone so purely and innocently is treated with disrespect. 

I know that feeling when trust is broken and your world is shattered. 

I know the moment you realize you’re in physical danger but you don’t have the courage to leave.

I know the feeling of losing a spouse.

I know the doubt, the uncertainty of choosing to get a divorce; wondering if you could have possibly "made it work" or "helped him more" or "fixed myself better". Wondering what would have happened if you had stayed. Wondering if he would have loved you again. 

I know the pain of receiving that letter from his new bishop, requesting that you write a letter in response to his request for a sealing cancellation so he can be married again. I know the heartache of realizing that she now has the place you always dreamed of having. 

Another time, I will write you all the things I know about the diamonds that came from this furnace of affliction, the pearls from the sand, the beauty from the ashes. 

Another time, I will. But for now, these are the parts of me that sometimes still ache because, well . . . It hurt. It really, really did. 

To hear and to see

Dear self…..

It’s okay that you feel sad. I know it was something you wanted to do, play music with him and talk to him and rekindle a friendship with him. 

In all honesty, you are doing your best to be a good friend. And though you are discouraged because it seems to be thrown back in your face, you can also be happy that you are trying; trying to be good. Trying to be happy. Trying to honor who you are and what you stand for. You stand for humility, responsibility, honesty, and vulnerability. Relationships that last are built on trust - you know this. I am so sad that you feel like you cannot trust him anymore. What a heartbreaking thing. 

I do- I remember how much fun the beginning of the semester was, and how much you looked forward to being with Jacob. I remember how you felt you had a friend - someone who heard you and saw you for who you were. I think that in a way, he still does that - though you may not fully see it. And you are definitely shy and hesitate to talk about that. I understand. I hear your crying and see your tears. I see your heartbreak and hear your prayer to find someone who will be your good friend. 

I know you wonder what has changed. What could have possibly gone wrong because you feel like there’s distance between you two. I don’t know what to do about it, but I know God does. I hear you, Alissa, and your pure heart makes sense. If Jacob feels uncomfortable around you, that doesn’t mean you have done something wrong or are all of a sudden walking the wrong road. It just means he feels differently than you do.

And now that you know what it feels like to be around Jacob (at least, previous to this distance), you can look for that same, deep connection with someone else. Remember that Jacob is his own person and you cannot force your expectations on him. You cannot expect him to do something and then feel hurt when it doesn’t happen. You just have to trust the Lord and trust you will be okay. 

That this isn’t something to be worried about. Marriage will happen when it needs to, and when you find that celestial friend, I think you will know. 

❤️ Alissa

Surprises

 I love surprises. 

The ones that make you giggle and grin from ear to ear. 

I love to plan them and to be the recipient of them. I love to watch people smile as the surprise unfolds, as the door opens and they see twenty people in the room instead of zero. 

And I keep hoping that God is just waiting to surprise me with something exciting, something good. Because…do you ever feel like life doesn’t slow down? That, yeah, there are happy and exciting things along the way, and yet you just yearn for at least one good thing for which you’ve been praying for a very, very long time? 

I don’t believe that God willfully causes anything which, for his own purposes, he permits. Meaning, I don’t think God causes suffering, unfortunate circumstances, or any number of difficult fortunes that befall us. 

Sometimes, hard days go on for many days at a time. And it’s not that God caused them or didn’t hear your prayer. 

I don’t know why it’s like that. I don’t know why some trials last a long, long time.

Nor do I know why it is that when one trial ends, so often another begins. And the “hard day cycle” starts over…

And over…

And over.

And my most recent one nearly took the life out of me. 

Remember that part of childhood when we dressed up and played make believe? When our mothers made or bought us princess outfits and we played outside for hours on end, never willing to give up the freedom of make belief? 

Remember the happily ever after? Well, what do you do when it comes to the previous life you lived, but it doesn’t come to you? What do you do when you’ve tried your whole life to be good, and the story you keep telling yourself (because circumstances reinforce those faulty core beliefs) is that it will just never be yours.

See, one main faulty core belief that I’m fighting is this belief that I don’t get to have a happy endings in this life.

I’m always one song too late.

One glass slipper short.

One dress too old.

One minute too slow. 

….

He’s getting married.

Yes, him. 

The one I thought would be my prince. The one I danced with and sang with… the one to whom I gave my heart. 

That was a lovely Christmas present. 

….Surprise….

And I’m terrified for his new wife. You know, the one in the place that used to be mine. 

It’s like I’ve just gone through grieving the loss of a loved one, who then comes back and denies my very existence. It feels like my tears mean nothing. Heartache? Nothing. Feelings? Nothing. Love? Nothing. 

There was this moment - when he reached out to me to pay a debt from the divorce that he never paid. He had told his Bishop he was up to date on all legal matters relating to the divorce. Well, that was a lie. Intentionally stated or not. But he had been informed of his financial obligation and had chosen not to pay it. Now his new marriage depended on it. 

Lovely. 

So back when he didn’t pay his portion? Guess what. I paid it all. And there was nothing left inside me to fight him to pay his.

Upon receiving news from his bishop, stating he claimed to have taken care of all financial obligations, I responded that actually, he wasn’t current on those obligations. 

The response? 

A text. From my ex husband. 

At first I was angry when I received the text, that he was finally willing to reach out and pay money. 

And then, he had the audacity to ask if I was charging interest.

Interest? On what? The last two years of ….??

As if money could ever suffice, could ever mend a broken heart, could ever take the place of a sincere apology. “Alissa, I’m so sorry I cheated on you, broke my covenant to God, was unfaithful and disrespectful. I’m so sorry I abused you and hurt you and told you that your body wasn’t good enough for me. I’m so sorry I manipulated you and set you up to be the recipient of all the blame. I’m so sorry.”

No, none of that. Just an offer to pay me more money.

Well, money doesn’t buy forgiveness. 

Now, at this surprising moment of finding out that he was preparing for marriage in the temple; at this moment of unexpected feelings, finally, I was able to hold him responsible for one thing. Finally I was brave enough to stand up for myself. 

And in that moment of texting, when he reached out and asked for a way to pay me, I stared at his message, his phone number unsaved in my phone, but I still knew it by heart. 

I was choosing whether or not to congratulate him. I was surprised and hurt and confused at the same time. 

Shocked and speechless are good words. 

My fingers slowly typed out, “Congratulations on your engagement”

And for longer than I can admit, my thumbs hovered over the exclamation point. 

!

Christ gave me strength to forgive him once. Though sometimes it’s a daily effort. And this time? It was a physical sign of whether or not I truly had forgiven him. 

To some people, it may not make sense. But to me, that exclamation point represented how far I had come. And…was I willing to go even further?

….

“!”

*send*

Relief. Tears. Disbelief. Grief. I did that. 

No, no no. I had pushed “send” with my thumb, yes. But Christ had given me the strength to do it. And the feeling of forgiving him. 

And now?

Well…I guess I’ll just keep waiting for a better surprise. 

You know…the kind that catches me when I least expect it. The kind that makes me smile - ear to ear- and laugh and wish that it would never end. 

A surprise worth waiting for.