When I was a little girl I remember wishing upon a star out of the window of my childhood bedroom. At the time, I thought I wanted to be famous. I even have a book that I wrote in 5th grade on the same topic. In that book, Candace Cameron quit her job on “Full House” and I became DJ Tanner.
Sorry Candace. I promise, I’m a HUGE fan!
Looking back, I guess you could say I knew I wanted to do something different with my life—but it wasn’t until my life fell apart that God decided to show me what “different” looked like.
I’m a runner. Since college at Denison University (a VERY long time ago, thank you very much), I would put headphones on and hit the pavement. It was cathartic for me. Pushing my body to do something it didn’t really enjoy, but knowing the rush I would get about 7 minutes in and the feeling of accomplishment when I was done. Exercise has always been a staple in my life. My mother and father were both accomplished athletes. My dad, a AAA pitcher for the Brewers and my mom, an undefeated tennis player who played on a men’s team because there wasn’t one for the girls. Can we say, “seriously bad ass?”
My running and fitness has always rooted me. In the moments when life was hard and things felt out-of-control, it’s always been the one thing I could control. You name a fitness fad and I’ve done it. I’ve run 10 miles for fun on a Saturday morning with my bestie in an effort to earn ALL the donuts. I’ve done yoga and surfed in Costa Rica. I’ve competed in multiple CrossFit competitions. I’ve hiked in the Rockies, the Sierra Nevadas, the Blue Ridge and Smoky Mountains. I’ve run in almost every major city in the United States. I’ve done yoga in Grand Rapids, Madison, SoCal, San Francisco and Boston.
You see, I got really good at “running.” Staying busy. Filling my days with too much to do. It wasn’t until the last 4 years that I realized this was me—coping.
Now don’t get me wrong, I had a WONDERFUL childhood. I have two parents who loved each other and me well. They set a fantastic foundation for both my brother and me. They were our biggest fans and they both supported and pushed when necessary. But, they couldn’t protect me from everything.
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Today, I am the survivor of three separate incidents of sexual assault, starting from the age of 6, to again at 21 and finally as recent as 40-years old. These traumas have a way of creating lies that settle into our bones and become our “truths” if we don’t do something about them. I lived for 42-years before enough was enough.
In late 2019, my marriage of 12-years ended. I was the one who chose to leave. In truth, our marriage was never really healthy. Don’t get me wrong, we had incredible moments and we did love each other, but we grew apart and we did not communicate well. After years of feeling emotionally neglected, unseen, unheard and unloved—I was tired and empty. And in September of 2018, that turned to depression, anger, resentment and frustration so much that I thought to myself, “Everyone would be better off if I just didn’t exist.”
These passive suicidal ideations were enough to push me to get help. I visited my doctor and was put on a very low dose of an anti-depressant. Praise the Lord, it worked! I joined the local Y, got a promotion at work and made some new friends. I lost weight and started getting strong again. By December, I was feeling like a new version of myself, but the medicine didn’t fix my marriage.
Now this is the part I wish I could undo. Even after the hard work I’ve done on myself, this is the last biggest regret I will ever have. I found myself in an emotional affair with a man who was not worthy of me—but fed into my insecurities and made me feel special and loved. That affair gave me my “out” of my marriage and I took it.
Then I ran.
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I didn’t stop running until just a few months ago. A broken heart has a way of pointing us to dark corners of the soul that need attention. And mine needed some serious tending to. I stepped back into my therapist’s office and did the hard work of EMDR to uproot those lies I believed because of the most recent experience with sexual assault (rape) at the hands of the very man I left my marriage for.
I had spent the past 3-years believing what happened to me was a result of my bad choices. That somehow I deserved it. This was my penance. That I was damaged and broken and dirty. But through the capable hands of my incredible counselor and God’s presence in the process, my heart was healed and I replaced those lies with truths about who I am and God’s purpose for my life.
Those dreams I had as a little girl may have changed a bit, but it was time to do that thing. To help others and to use the gifts God has given me in all their nerdy glorious mess to make a difference. Which is why I am here writing this now.
What has happened in my life since late 2018 I can only explain as a miracle. The love and patience that God has shown me in the wrestling and the healing and hurt are only by His grace and mercy. He has taken my pain and begun to cultivate it into something beautiful for His glory.
In Japanese culture, there is a something called Kintsugi. It is the art of repairing broken pottery by mending the broken areas with gold. It’s taking something broken and making it more beautiful. I believe this is what God is doing in my life and I’m so grateful for the opportunity to share my heart, soul and purpose with you in this new journey that’s still being stitched together.
“Grace, Grit and a Little Wit” is a safe place to explore wellness from three perspectives—physical, mental and spiritual—through a blog, podcasts, adventures, music and whatever other weird ideas I get. WARNING: there will probably be birds at some point.
And since I’m not much of a runner anymore—I’m hoping instead—that you’ll join me on this incredible, exciting, peaceful and grace-filled walk.
Love and light,
Ev