For Once, I am Alone

For once, I am alone. Surprisingly, I am okay with that. Marilyn Monroe once said, “A wise girl leaves before she is left,” but the thing is, I have not decided if I was wise for leaving, or if I was foolish for not having left sooner. The relationship in question was not just a relationship, but a marriage. A short-lived, broken one at that. We were the type of couple that looked happy and put-together whenever we posted on social media. Loving selfies by a cliff-face while on a hike, feeding each other dessert after a romantic meal. We even took photos together in our scrubs and surgical caps, since we both worked in the same hospital, me a nurse and he a doctor. We were quite literally the picture of a healthy relationship. Behind closed doors, a different story was unfolding.

My initial interest in fitness was nothing less than coerced. Back-handed comments about fitting into a size 8 wedding dress, or how we were honeymooning on a beach, not in the mountains, were his way of letting me know that I did not look the way he would have liked. I quickly started to feel how tightly my clothes were fitting and how my soon-to-be husband did not find me attractive. I decided to invest in a personal trainer, a food-delivery plan, and get myself together for our wedding day. Very quickly, I realized how great I felt after becoming more active. I was stronger, quicker, and I looked like a new woman. My confidence gained an enormous boost as well. As much as I anticipated my fiance to bask in this new svelte woman on his arm, I was greeted with the exact opposite. The back-handed comments did not become less, they just changed their mask. I was no longer permitted to visit the gym “unchaperoned.” I had to wear unflattering gym clothes, even though they were uncomfortable during my workouts. I had to be knocked down a few notches every so often so I did not become too powerful in my own skin. These tactics unfortunately worked.

So I gave up, and I gained almost forty pounds. I would sit on the couch and watch television for 6 hours after work, inhale an entire stuffed-crust pizza while downing a whole bottle of Pinot Grigio in my flannel pajama set and matching bunny slippers. I ended up squeezing into a size 12 on my wedding day. He was not thrilled and I could tell. The photos even show it.

Once I hit two-hundred pounds, the wedding photos came back, and the weight remarks were unbearable, I took a stab at fitness again. If he did not like me, at least I could try to make an attempt to like myself. I escaped to the gym for two hours after work everyday, leaving him to cook himself dinner and watch his own dishes, make his own lunch and set out his own clothes for the morning. We quickly became roommates instead of loving spouses, and that was a bliss that I did not know that I needed. It did not take long for me to realize that the gym was not what was making me feel better about myself. It was being away from him. Being away from his constant emotional abuse about how I was not good enough, the house was not clean enough, dinner was not ready soon enough, I did not make enough money, my ambitions were silly. I was sick of it. So I finally left.

Now I am by myself. My first time in ten years to be able to say that. Since I have been on my own, I have gotten to know myself, and done things that I was not permitted to do before. I became a Certified Personal Trainer and a Certified Nutrition Specialist. I joined a CrossFit gym. I joined a local band as their lead vocalist. I moved back to my hometown to be closer to my family. I decided to love and embrace myself, and with that decision, wellness has followed. I am now the healthiest I have ever been in my life. So yes, I start the year off alone, but there is not necessarily strength in numbers. There is strength in independence, and I am determined to be strong.