The Whole Damn Thing
Image by Will O
Half my life ago, I dated a man I thought I’d marry. We met through theater and spent quite a bit of time together before we moved into more-than-friends territory. He was a decade older than me, had a full-time job in an interesting field and a beautiful living space, was bi-lingual, played guitar and football, and owned more grooming products than I did. He was also funny, thoughtful, charismatic, intelligent, and handsome. We had great chemistry, shared similar views and hobbies, and our lives quickly became intertwined. Being together was so easy and delightful, when he started talking to me about marriage, it felt like a natural progression.
Image by Saif Memon
While I’d never felt that way with anyone else and hadn’t really considered marriage before, I could see myself with him longer-term and found myself open to it. After all, we had fun together, he made me feel fantastic, I liked his family and friends, and he liked mine… I’ll never forget the day I learned he’d been sleeping with his ex though. Of course, I was devastated – we’d agreed to a monogamous relationship and he’d told me I was “the only one” for him. But somehow, despite the grief and anger, my emotions around the betrayal were tempered with a sense of relief, like I’d just narrowly avoided something fatal. (Turns out, I had. But that’s not my story to tell.)
The aftermath sucked and the uncoupling was painful for me. I tried for a while to keep on with my regularly scheduled programming, but our lives had become so intertwined, it proved exceedingly difficult. Eventually, I had to completely disentangle myself so I could heal. This meant cutting ties in many places, including leaving the theater company, church, and even a friend group I’d been a part of for years. It wasn’t a good time, but in every ending is a beginning. And there were so many valuable lessons for me in that experience. One of my favorites came from an unexpected place – pie.
On a particularly excruciating day, my sister-in-law was comforting me, assuring me that I wasn’t broken and I really could trust and love again and that there was someone else who fit even better than I thought my ex and I did (before he cheated on us). Out of seemingly nowhere, she said, “Sarah, he was just a slice of that chocolate silk. But honey, you deserve the whole damn pie!”
Image from Bakers Square
My sister-in-law doesn’t swear so her even saying the word, ‘damn,’ was a big deal. It made me pay attention and, in that moment, I had a shift. I realized I’d been so focused on what was in front of me, that I wasn’t allowing space for what was to come. And I’d allowed my pain to overshadow the gifts, not even seeing the “piece of pie” for what is was. So, I chose to let my grief turn to gratitude.
Even though things hadn’t worked out as advertised with that man, my experiences with him had been enlightening. Our relationship showed me glimpses of what was possible. Helped me learn more about myself, my limits, desires, and capacity for growth. Our uncoupling helped me learn more about the importance of one’s environment on levels I’d not paid much attention to before. That man, that relationship, that slice of pie was simply that. A piece. And I knew in that moment that there was SO much more for me and available to me, which helped in my healing process.
The lesson about the pie has stayed with me and helped me reframe quite a few situations (not just romantic ones). It’s helped me see what I like and what I don’t, what is working and what is not. It’s helped me delight in what is – what’s already here that can be celebrated – while still moving toward what is to come. It’s helped me embrace the reality of abundance, and increase my capacity for more. Yes, I can still delight in a piece of pie – in all the pieces. I can also enjoy the whole of it. I know there’s more where that came from.
Here’s to celebrating where we are in the journey, in life or love or creativity. To seeing the beauty and gleaning the lessons wherever we are. And to knowing there is so much more available to us. Here’s to not simply settling for a piece, when we can have the whole damn thing.