Earlier this year, I got a wallop of freedom I wasn’t looking for when my husband of 13 years decided he wanted to split up.
I haven’t blogged much about it, mostly because I write romantic comedy and…uh, well, divorce isn’t very romantic or funny.
But I’ve been muscling through like always, and am actually doing great now. One advantage of my new freedom is that I’ve acquired a surprising set of skills.
The first came when the headlight on my car burned out. No longer able to summon a spouse to replace it, I did the next logical thing: I sniffled.
Then I undid the top two buttons on my shirt and drove to the auto parts store with the fervent hope the clerk would offer to replace the headlight for me.
Apparently, my cleavage is no match for a blizzard. That’s what was happening outside that morning, and I’m fairly certain I could have removed my entire shirt and draped myself over the counter while the auto parts clerk stared outside at the snowfall and said, “good luck with that.”
But you know what? I figured it out. Oh, there was cursing and muttering, but I eventually managed to put it in all by myself (go ahead and make the joke about how that’s an important skill for a single girl to master – I’ll wait).
Not only did I change my own headlight, but I managed to remove the doorknobs around my house and take them to the locksmith for rekeying (an expensive endeavor if I’d had the locksmith make a house call instead). I also learned to repair a patch of busted drywall with a hot glue gun, wrestle my lawnmower into submission, and dispose of several tons of freshly pulled weeds without burning my house down.
I’ve recently taken in two twenty-something male housemates to help pay the mortgage. The possession of testicles requires them to offer assistance when I’m wrestling with a typically male task, and while I sometimes accept the offers, I usually don’t. There’s something satisfying about knowing I can do it myself.
I didn’t request this freedom, and I certainly didn’t expect to have to learn to make a pot of coffee so I could use it to clean corrosion off my car battery. But I’m happy with my new life and my new skills. And yes, with my new freedom.
Have you ever learned to do something under duress and found it wasn’t as bad as you expected? Ever gotten a taste of freedom you didn’t realize you needed? Please share!
I’ll be over here learning to use my new cigar cutter. Anyone got a light?
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