I was insecure and a little scared, even though this wasn’t my first rodeo.

As a native Floridian, hurricanes are par for the course. Hurricanes can also be a terrifying experience - howling winds, blowing transformers, storm surge, and falling trees. But mostly it’s terrifying because of the unknown. No matter how you prepare, you’ve never quite sure – should we stay or go? Have I done enough? You mitigate your risk compared to your time, energy, and resources. You watch the news – you watch too much news.

It is a debate that presents itself repeatedly, no matter how experienced you become.

“Smoke and mirrors, baby. Smmmoke and mirrors.” We were discussing the art of keeping up appearances and those who contrive to live the perfect life.

Huge houses, new cars, extravagant vacations with no real money in the bank. Picture perfect holiday cards while chaos, abuse, and broken relationships dominate the family dynamic. Obtaining the latest gadget for the sake of acquisition without consideration of its actual need and usefulness.

Bigger, newer, faster – often digs another layer in the hole of our discontent. Because everybody knows these things can’t make you happy. Yet, we all try and see if they will.

I get it, I am that person – or I was that person. To some extent, we are all that person.

The Holidays are upon us and I don’t have my sh*t together.

I’m not talking about tree trimming and gift wrapping – all of that is appropriately behind schedule, yes. It’s the bigger things – the stuff of life that makes us who we are, the stuff that shapes our stories that’s got me worried. Expectations, hopes, desires. Things that happened that I wish had not happened. Things that didn’t happen that I wish had. The struggle to accept where I am in this beautiful thing we call life. It’s this stuff that’s got me perplexed right now.

We had tried – for three years, we tried. And it wasn’t working – nothing was working. It wasn’t like there was anything wrong with us exactly, except that everything was wrong. We were all screwed up. Royally screwed up.And so, after three years of therapy, three years of actively working to fix our relationship, it was time to call our 15 years of matrimony quits. Time to do what needed to be done. Except for one thing, we had to tell the kids. I was terrified – I’m talking shaking, throwing up terrified. The plan was to tell them together, neither of us blaming the other, which I’m told is the best way – but the truth is there can be no best way for something like this. It is like a horrific train wreck any way you slice it. I hope I never experience another night as terrible as the night I told my children their parents were getting a divorce.