A couple weeks ago in We Can Do Hard Things I said uprooting your life is really hard.
What I didn’t say was how to make it easier. Why? Because I hadn’t figured it out yet. I’d recently decided to separate from my husband and was planning to another long road trip. I was distracted.
Now that I’ve made the most painful, difficult decision of my life—and I just drove back to the other side of Canada—I’m learning how to do harder things than I’ve ever done before.
Here are the three most important things I’ve learned in the past few weeks.
1. Do yourself a favor
Be honest with yourself. Suppressing the truth isn’t just hard on your spirit and soul, it wreaks havoc on your immune system, blood pressure and heart rate. Researchers who measure the negative impact of lying on your body say even the littlest “white lies” hurt.
The big lies hurt you more than anything. Are you hiding an unhappy marriage, sexually confused teenager, alcoholic sibling or abusive grandparent? Sometimes we don’t even know we’re lying because we can’t face the truth. We can’t admit it to ourselves, and definitely not to others.
Let the truth rise to the surface. You don’t have to tell anyone yet. In fact, it may be better not to confide too early. I prefer writing my truth in my private journal—especially if it’s something I can barely admit to myself—because I don’t want to be swayed by others’ opinions.
Telling yourself the truth is the hardest, best thing you can do for yourself. Just sit with it. The pain eventually subsides…especially if you let God’s still small voice filter through the cracks.
2. Allow yourself to change your mind
After I finally faced the truth about my unhappy marriage, I slowly realized I didn’t have to live this way forever. I could actually do something about it. I didn’t have to grit my teeth and work through it because “God hates divorce” and “until death do us part.” I was shocked.
It was a long, slow, painful process. I made it harder on myself because I didn’t know that I can change my mind. I’m an adult, and few decisions are final. Any path can change. I can arrive at a destination and realize it’s not right, good, or healthy for me or for the place. And that’s okay. Nothing is forever.
In my situation, it made more sense to separate from my husband, rediscover myself, and give him time to re-evaluate his life. Maybe my mind will change, maybe not. Maybe his mind will change, maybe not. Who knows what the future holds?
3. Hold the future loosely
Last month, when I returned to Vancouver from a four-month road trip across Canada, I knew I couldn’t go back to the way things were. A month later I re-packed Ruby and re-hit the road. Now I’m in Fredericton, New Brunswick. I’m looking for an apartment to rent for the winter.
I’m definitely in the “hold the future loosely” stage. I don’t know where I’ll live, how the separation will unfold, or who my new friends will be. But I do know that even though this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’d rather face difficult challenges and be free than have an easy life and be unhappy.
Are you doing something hard? Congratulations! You’ll look back on this season, you’ll wonder how you survived, and you’ll be amazed at your resilience. You may even be grateful because you trusted the still small voice—which you learned was whispering the whole time.
With love from New Brunswick,