A New Beginning

Can you make out those words?

“Just engaged”

Well that was a horrible fucking idea.

I just signed divorce papers, friends, and while this sucks and was nothing I wanted, but not doing it would be worse.

While he never admitted it, I’m fairly certain Cohiba cheated on me and couldn’t live with himself. I really did think the world of him, but I put lipstick on a pig for too long and didn’t entertain the possibility that he was a big ass punk.

I have my own shit to work through, and I thought he’d stick with me.

But that was a different time, and I’m a hell of a different woman. I’m still a Rennie, still adore Wee One (who is 11!). I don’t remember how much I talked much about Muay Thai, which I took up after my 40th birthday, but I love the art of that martial art.

I’m back to work counseling, and I’m so so so thankful I had a master’s before I got married and a chunk of savings to get away with. Young women, always make sure you can take care of yourselves and any kids you might have!

I got an ADHD diagnosis last fall, which makes sense to everyone who knows me IRL but shocked the hell out of me, and there might be some autism in there, too.

When I moved to Ohio, I moved here with a suitcase, a diaper bag, and my husband’s promise that everything else I owned, put into a storage unit by his new employer, was safe.

The storage unit got new owners and he just… didn’t renew with them. I don’t know when.

I lost everything.

My hospital records. My grad school textbooks. My thesis research. My gifts from Couchsurfers around the world, and my own trips. Shelves my grandpa made. My flute, which I’d had since I was 11, high school photographs and mementos, me step-dads army jacket, a carbon fiber Trek, my abundant Ren Fair garb. Wee One’s newborn baby book with dates written in there.

But I still have this blog. And a new beginning.