Today would have been my 13th wedding anniversary, but alas, we only made it to our 10th. In the divorced world, it’s called your anti-versary.
In hindsight, perhaps getting hitched on a Friday the 13th wasn’t actually good luck, like we kept telling ourselves and anyone who would listen. It certainly wasn’t good luck in the traditional sense, but the end result is definitely good.
I am a surprisingly much happier person because of what I went through in that marriage and what transpired in its collapse and bloody aftermath. I’m quickly learning that the best gifts in life often don’t come in the package you envisioned.
So, today I celebrate the anniversary of finding myself and the emancipation of all things sparkly underneath. Cheers!
In honor of NaBloPoMo.