Stupid shit and poor decisions.
My life the last year had been one big shit show of pain and embarrassment. I have done a lot of stupid shit. I have acted crazy. I’m pretty sure that I have become the queen of poor decisions. There have been more tears and drunken texts then I care to admit. Plus quite a few sober acts of desperation. But here’s a fact, women are powerful. We have a crazy pain tolerance. Women birth babies for fuck’s sake. Here’s another fact, a woman’s ability to maintain composure during times of turmoil, stress, and pain is like nothing you will ever see. Women in divorce especially.
I had not wanted to broadcast the divorce, make a big scene, cause drama, be mean (well sometimes), or generally let anyone know anywhere that I was experiencing divorce. I didn’t erase all our photos or post a new single status on social media. I truthfully just didn’t want anyone to know. I felt like a huge failure. I was incredibly embarrassed by the loss of my marriage. I was overwhelmed with a soul-crushing grief. I wanted to maintain the appearance of not falling apart as much and as long as I could. But keeping my composure was damn near impossible sometimes. So I have found solace in watching how other strong women deal with heartbreaking circumstances and somehow maintain their composure.
Music = Life.
I have told you before that music eases my soul. There is healing in listening to songs that say exactly what I am feeling or thinking when I can’t seem to find the words. I would listen to Miranda Lambert’s Weight of These Wings. Her grief became my grief. I felt connected to her in a way that seems silly but it’s as if she knew me and spoke right to my heart. I listened to Jana Kramer’s Thirty One and sang along as she told me to Dance in the Rain. I found strength in her ability to raise a new baby while experiencing divorce and infidelity, as it was broadcast on every celebrity news channel in the country. I felt hope hearing her story of abuse. I marveled at the fact she had three divorces and still managed to be awesome. I cried through Lady Gaga’s Million Reasons while I played it on repeat.
Gaga Five Foot Two.
I crawled into bed recently to watch Lady Gaga’s documentary, Gaga Five Foot Two. I enjoy getting to know stars on a deeper level. I know, I’m weird. But I truly felt if these women could keep going when the worst heartbreak of their lives was being broadcast to millions of people, that I could get up and face my small world where people don’t really give an actual fuck about what’s happening with me. Now I know it may be easier for celebrities to move on and feel better about heartbreak. I mean, they are rich, famous, and gorgeous. I’m sure they have minimal trouble finding new men. So while I watched Gaga share her life with the world, it brought tears to my eyes. That’s composure. It gave me strength watching someone in devastating pain both physical and emotional, handle it and face the world. She bares her soul through her music, reads about her breakup in the tabloids, and feels that same heartburn I’m feeling, then performs on stage for millions of people. That’s big. Like super bowl big. It blows my mind she could perform at the Super Bowl, while I could barely get out of bed. It’s crazy powerful to think about doing that when your heart is breaking. It’s empowering. The composure it takes to maintain that kind of control when you are also maintaining a broken heart.
They’re Just Like Us!
My sisters and I love the US Weekly articles, Stars – They’re Just Like Us! But don’t get me wrong. I’m sure they are not in fact just like us and it is probably a tad “easier” to deal with heartbreak as a celebrity. I mean, she has a team that does her makeup and hair, ‘nuf said. There are people around her all the time. But as she said in her documentary, there are people around all day, talking to her and at her but, when she goes home she is still alone. There is no amount of money or stature that can take that feeling away. No amount of famethat makes you free from the crushing pain of heartbreak. She still has to feel the heartbreak, like all us regular women, but she has to face the world. Not just our regular world, a couple coworkers, some family, and a few friends but literally millions (26.4 million people follow her Instagram) People all over the world, looking up to her, expecting her to be a certain way.
Trauma Bonding.
I dragged my sorry ass out of bed, into a shower, and prepped my team for the weekend. While I thought I may die of a broken heart, my assistant puked in the bushes, team members slowed with exhaustion, mistakes were made and clients bitched me out. Somehow I kept going. I mustered every bit of strength and composure I had left and pulled it together. I solved problems. I hosted a game show until 5am for high schoolers then got up for spin class at 8am. I didn’t have the luxury to fall apart or die. I had a a team to lead and events to produce. And I did all the while I wanted to die, or crawl back in bed and sob indefinitely. But we made it through the weekend. We rallied and produced 7 events in a few days.
Choosing me.
The X hated what I do for work. He hated sharing me with the world. Even my small world, including family, friends, my team, my industry colleagues He hated going to events with me. In my business, we do half our business for the year in the first three weeks of December. It involves crazy long days, nights, and a shit ton of stress. Maybe he just wanted me to do 8 to 5 like everyone else. But that’s just not me. As our marriage ended last year and we physically separated, we cried together in our bedroom as he packed to leave me. The memory brings tears to this day. I asked for a physical separation because I was incredibly overwhelmed with the rapid devolving of our relationship. I needed to focus on our upcoming December season, our 59 events, and try to lead a team of 132 people to success. He now likes to say I chose my job over him. But this was never what I wanted for my marriage or my life. I wanted to make it work and I tried so fucking hard. I put myself on hold for years as I tried to fix him and fix us. But the truth is, I finally just chose me over him. I couldn’t do it anymore. It was physically and mentally killing me.
More Gaga.
So I cried while I lay in bed watching Gaga, two nights in a row. It broke my heart to watch her pain from a broken engagement and a physical injury causing her debilitating pain. Yet she did the fucking Super Bowl. She gained her composure after a broken engagement and after the physical pain, she was in. Then with only a few minor breakdowns, anger, and bitchiness, she leads her huge team through a Super Bowl performance. I can’t imagine the stress and the nervousness or the composure that it takes to keep it together long enough to do a show in front of the whole world. All the while I’m sure she wanted to break down, lay in bed, or cry indefinitely. But she did it. And it was phenomenal. Now, friends, I understand Gaga may not be your spirit animal, like mine, but find someone who inspires you to keep moving forward.
Drop the mic, and walk away…
Friends, you may not be a celebrity. You may not have anyone to do your hair and makeup. But I promise you, you have more strength then you know. Strength doesn’t come from what you can do, it comes from doing what you thought you couldn’t. So next time you want to die, just get out of bed, shower, then pull a Gaga and rock the super bowl. But you know on a normal level. Gather your composure, knock it out, drop the mic, and walk away. I promise you got this. Women are powerful. And maintaining composure under stress or heartbreak, ain’t no thang.
#micdrop
XOXO – J
How do you maintain your composure when you want are crushed by embarrassment and heartbreak?
