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I Entered My Marriage a Girl and Left My Marriage a Woman

From time to time when life gets hard and I break down, I forget who I have become. I feel weak, afraid and depressed. I wonder when life will get easier after divorce. I wonder when I will meet the right one. But then I remember who I am now: I remember that life IS already easier after divorce.
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March is known for coming in like a lion, and out like a lamb.

A contradiction of weather with its storms, snow, rain, wind and then subsequently sunny and balmy days, March is a confused month -- unable to settle into one steady pattern until finally, the month is over. It's like an all-night bender: as the party ends, the wind dies down and everyone goes home for the night.

When I walked outside and felt the balmy breeze of an almost April day and remembered how cold it was the other day, I reminded myself about March's mercurial ways and fell upon that childhood saying. And oddly enough, this saying reminded me of me. Almost exactly but:

I entered my marriage a kitten and exited my divorce a lioness.

I entered my marriage a girl and exited it a woman.

From time to time when life gets hard and I break down, I forget who I have become. I feel weak, afraid and depressed. I wonder when life will get easier after divorce. I wonder when I will meet the right one.

But then I remember who I am now: I remember that life IS already easier after divorce.

That what befalls me now is simply small potatoes compared to all I have been through. That my negative thoughts are just that: thoughts -- not facts. That the reality is, I entered my marriage insecure and needing to be saved by someone. Wanting to be made whole from someone else who wasn't whole himself and who didn't cherish and embrace me.

After two years of utter loneliness, broken promises and cold and silent nights, we separated for good.

I wasn't quite that kitten. I wasn't as insecure and unsure as I once was, but I was not yet ready to roar. The idea of being alone and a single parent was unfathomable. It felt like a rotten curse.

But time proved to me to be the best teacher. And with each challenge of divorce, as much as I struggled at first, I thrived in the long run.

So when on occasion, someone -- whether it be my ex or any random stranger -- tries to remind me that I was once that kitten, I stand up straight, full out my mane and when it's needed, I roar.

I roar loudly -- firmly -- or persistently.

I fight for what is mine and refuse to fight when it is not a worthy cause. I hope for the best and prepare for the worst and weather storms I never thought I could. At the end of the day, I lick my wounds and groom myself and get back up the next day.

Because I entered this marriage a girl and I am exiting it a woman.

A lioness.

A panther.

A full-fledged adult.

And my game is on point, so bring it on Mother Nature and the rest of the world.

I've got this.