I know I have some people that are new to this space. To those folks, I say hi, I’m Aleesha! I am a mama, writer, coach, early childhood educator, and postpartum doula in training, and I’m working in First Third Ministry with the United Church of Canada. I love that I get to support young people and young families within a spiritual context, as my faith is ultimately what brought me to explore the trainings I’ve taken and build the expertise that I have in this area.
One thing you may not know about me is that I’m also separated from my former spouse. I’ve written about it before, and you can find that post at the bottom of the page. Overall, our separation was difficult in the sense that neither of us knew what it would look like and how our children would be affected; but it was also strangely beautiful. Instead of a 10 year anniversary celebration, we held an unwedding ceremony. We did a hand unbinding ritual with the ribbon from my wedding dress as we spoke our new coparent and friendship agreements. We burned that ribbon and the canvas that our guests signed (something Declan was very excited to help with). We read letters to each other to share what these years have meant and express gratitude for our love, even if it looks different now. And through it all, our children were a part of the process, along with my OG maid of honour, her kids, and the person who married us in the first place.
I’m honestly grateful for the friendship Jason and I share, and now that it’s been 6 months since I moved out, I can say that our kids handled the transition with so much courage. We had hard conversations about wanting things to be the way they were, and I let them know it’s okay to be sad that their family has changed.
Since my separation, I’ve explored dating a little bit, and the amount of stuff that keeps coming up for me kind of boggles my mind. I foolishly thought I had grown so much in the ten years that I was married, and we ended so well, that I was good to go. Turns out that getting into and staying in a relationship that was safe but ultimately not right for me for over a decade simply put my old patterns into hibernation, and being back out in the dating world woke them right up again.
I have never before witnessed the urge I have to self-abandon as clearly as I have in the past six months. As I was making connections and being direct about what I need from a relationship, people were honest in letting me know they couldn’t meet me there. A few times, I went down an emotional tunnel and told myself I shouldn’t have said anything and maybe we’d keep hanging out or that what I want is too much. I knew in my head that neither of those things are true, but there was a part of me that was desperate to cling, again, to something that wasn’t right for me.
I remember putting Sage to bed one night, and once she was asleep, I just cried. Not for the other person, but for Little Aleesha. She was so afraid of being abandoned that she would choose to abandon herself instead. And as I cried, I held that little version of me, physically and metaphorically. I became the adult that she never had growing up. I stayed with her until she knew that I wouldn’t abandon her anymore. As I intentionally chose not to repeat the pattern, what came up was such a deep sense of helplessness—if I don’t dismiss my needs or try to mindread or become a chameleon to make someone like me, then what do I have? How do I make other people stay?
I don’t. I don’t make other people stay if they can’t or don’t want to. All I can do is be honest about who I am and what I need, and bless and release those who aren’t ready to meet me there.
That night, in the softly lit room where my children were sleeping, might have been the first time I chose myself rather than ruminating over how to make someone else choose me. It was certainly the first time I felt the pain of how hard I’ve worked throughout my life to simply not be rejected by the people I most needed love from. Honestly, it was probably the first time I felt truly safe in my own body, a body that was so used to being ignored when it was crying out for my attention.
I can’t control whether someone has the capacity to meet me where I am. I can’t control whether they are willing to invest in a relationship with me. I can’t even control whether or not they tell me the truth about said capacity and willingness. As hard as it is, the only way to discover whether a relationship is right is to take steps forward into the unknown, watch to see if the other person is walking alongside you, and be honest when you see a misstep or notice you’re walking out of sync. And when you’re honest, that person may choose to walk away. This is the risk of cocreating connection.
My friend told me the other day that we choose our lessons, and I think that’s true. I certainly chose to put myself out there to try and find the connection I’ve wanted for a long time. But as I look back over the process, I see that it was less about finding the right person, and more about finding myself.
If you resonate with the urge to self-abandon (I’m looking at you, people-pleaser!), let me know how you are choosing to stay with yourself in whatever season you’re in right now.
Here’s some of my favourite past posts in case you missed them <3
What if Divorce Is the Most Loving Thing to Do?
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September 23, 2024
It is currently not widespread news that my husband of nearly ten years and I are now separated. We have told the people that need to know and trust that over time the information will slowly disseminate. It’s decidedly not the same as the excitement of telling others you’re dating someone, or getting engaged, or pregnant. As soon as I tell people, it’s quite awkward. Even though both of us are honestly enjoying the fact that friendship seems to be the most authentic expression of our relationship, other people assume we must be devastated. I don’t feel like a sad, single mom—I feel like the bravest, strongest, wisest version of myself that I have ever been—and yet I still must contend with the shifty eyes and uncomfortable apologies, as if it’s their fault.
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