How I’m Finding Hope and Healing (in my own story), Part I: An Unexpected-New-Life-Journey
I believe that there are times, in this life, when telling our own authentic story is one of the most courageous things we can do...
A good-many of us are already doing this—in small and simple ways—when we share honest glimpses of our everyday lives—both good and bad—on social media or during a long-overdue visit, catching up with friends and family—over a cup of tea and a video chat—whether it’s from just a few miles away or half-way round the world. Either way, we choose authenticity each time we share not only our most picture-perfect, wonder-filled adventures but also our most heartbreaking moments as well.
Surprisingly enough—when we find courage to do this—we also find that there is both strength (in the sharing of our sorrows) and healing (in our willingness to be vulnerable in the presence of others).
And while we are, of course, under no obligation to share every little detail of our lives, for a good many obvious reasons—whether it's that we simply want to keep our private lives, well, private or because we want to help protect those we love, whose stories aren’t ours to tell—sometimes, despite our best efforts, our lives become so interwoven (and intertwined), that we can no longer tell our own authentic story without first being honest about how the actions of others have helped to determine the very paths we are on—for us—whether we wanted them to or not.
So, out of respect for those we hold most dear, we do our best to share only the most necessary parts of our collective story for us to be able to move forward, in our own lives and our own stories.
That said, I’ve spent well over a year trying to navigate the best way to share my story with folks (outside of those I hold closest to me). While, at the same time, honoring the stories of my loved ones (that are so intricately interwoven throughout my own life).
Because in all honesty, friends, when I first began to set up this Substack, way-back-when, I was living out a very different life story than I am now. A life that—while challenging in many ways—also included much hope and beauty and goodness. And yet—due to the actions of others—there have been many seasons since, when my story has been changing so quickly… I simply wasn't quite sure where to begin.
I’ve begun writing this out countless times—as I’ve hoped and healed, lamented and learned, grieved and grown—each time doing my best to respect those I love, while still hoping to encourage others who may be facing similar life challenges. And each time, I have found myself erasing most of what I’ve written, choosing instead to share just a select few words with a few select folks whom I know I can trust.
Meanwhile, I’ve reminded myself time and time again that there is no one right way to be a family, there is indeed hope after heartache, and there is still so much life to be lived—even after everything we know has been uprooted—and we find ourselves desperately trying to make sense of it all, while learning to untangle the mess that is left behind.
Until recently, I’ve only ever been able to share bits and pieces of my story about how and why I have separated from my former-partner after more than 30 years together. And this has, more often than not, left uncomfortable silences and unanswered questions—even among some of the safest-of-places-and-spaces—where I believe openness and truth would make for far better companions, than loneliness and isolation ever will.
Even so, I’ve continued to wait until the right time, although I honestly wasn't sure when that right time might come…
But then, by chance, a short while ago, while sharing stories (of our own unique journeys) with a newer friend of mine, she mentioned that she welcomed any advice I might be willing to share—relating to my separation and upcoming divorce—in light of the fact that there are countless other women—many of whom no longer have the support of the churches, and communities, they once loved and called home—who are facing similar life changes.
So, after many months of waiting for the right time to write out my story, a written conversation that began quite simply on the surface, took an unexpected (albeit much-welcomed) path—which then opened up to a safe place—and I was able to share my whole heart and story with her.
And… I can’t begin to describe how freeing that was!
In turn, her thoughtful responses, and our continued conversations since, have helped me to feel seen and heard, known and cared for.
But as I mentioned before: We don't need to share every part of our story with the world, so her kind and encouraging words (that have so generously been shared, like a healing balm) shall remain just between us.
And yet, Dear reader…
Since this part of my story has in fact now been written, and the timing finally feels right, I'm choosing to share my ‘Letter to a Friend’ with you all—with the consent of those whose stories are interwoven with mine—in hopes that it might not only help other folks to feel as seen and heard and encouraged, as well, but also as a reminder that no part of our story is ever wasted when we share, among safe places and spaces, with kindred folk alike.
As with many of the most important parts of our stories this post has indeed become a bit longer than I’d planned for it to be, so I’ll be sharing it as part of a series, instead...
You can read the second part of this series—including my ‘Letter to a Friend’—in Part II of: ‘How I’m Finding Hope and Healing (in my own story)’, which I’ll be publishing in the next day or so.
And lastly, I hope this serves as not only a long-overdue life update, for those of you who know me well—and perhaps a bit more of an introduction, for those of you who are just beginning to get to know me and/or my story—but also as a reminder of the healing that can be found in simply living out our own authentic stories, within the context of our own unique lives.
In the meantime…
If you’re new here—and/or you haven’t had a chance to explore my first handful of posts—here are some handy-links to help you find your way around our little corner of Substack…
This was my very first post here at The Nature Walk Collective—
(and we’re hopeful that it’ll help you to get to know who we are, and what we’re looking forward to cultivating with you all here in the seasons to come):
Let’s Begin our Collective Journey Together Here…
(photo taken, by me, of: ‘Morning Sunlight on Springtime Flowers’, growing among Nana’s and Indie Blue’s Fairy Garden, just outside our window, here at Willow House.) Hello to all you Lovely Souls and Kindred Folk alike! Here’s to wishing you a warm and glad welcome to
Next up, is a bit of memoir-inspired creative writing—
(which also just so happens to be my very own origin-story-of-sorts):
And finally, here’s a much shorter (albeit very vulnerable) bit of writing that I’m sharing with the hope of helping to encourage others in their own creative journeys toward hope and healing (within the context of their own unique life stories):
And with that, my friends,
Now that you’re all caught up, I’m off to pour a generous cup of tea, put on a much loved playlist, and set myself a place at the table (for a lovely summer’s day of painting, in the studio), with hopes of cultivating a bit more creative-goodness to share with you all (in my family’s beloved little Etsy shop) soon.
Cheers! Juanita
p.s. Whether you’re reading my posts just as soon as they’ve been published, or happen upon them many seasons from now, please feel free to share your thoughts in the comments (or a personal message) and I’ll respond as soon as I’m able…
As this is exactly how I began cultivating my friendship, with the lovely soul who helped me find courage to share my story with you all!
I so appreciate your point about the impossibility of leaving everyone out of our stories. Boy! We try to be thoughtful, compassionate, and circumspect, but there is no way to tell our stories (or understand our lives) without acknowledging the ways others’ choices have impacted us.