Sometimes we have to march into uncharted territory.  Regardless of whether we just happen into it, or it’s a choice to go in there, we sometimes get lost when we navigate the unfamiliar. Then we have to backtrack to figure out where we went wrong.  We encounter obstacles.  We learn to adjust to the path in front of us. It’s all part of figuring out where we’re going.  And who we are.

Yesterday was Labor Day.  I had a whole day of no kids and no work, so what did I do?  I had an offer to run the Chubb trail with Shane, Wes and Shalini, but they were going at 6am.  6AM?!  On a holiday?!  Ha.  I don’t think so.  So, while I was at the movies with Steve on Sunday night, we decided we would venture off to the Chubb Trail on our own at a more reasonable hour.  Neither of us had ever run there so we decided to go exploring together.

Here’s the thing about me and Steve.  We’ve only known each other for about a year and a half, but we found each other at just the right time. About 2 ½ years ago, before I had ever laid eyes on Steve, I was on the brink of making one of the biggest decisions of my life to march into potentially treacherous and severely uncharted territory.  Steve was just a few miles away doing the same thing, but in a completely different way.  Both of us had been living our lives the way we thought we were supposed to on the outside, but we had both finally come to the conclusion that it was time to be true to ourselves. We didn’t just walk into unknown territory, we RAN.  We both knew that people would react however they would react and there wasn’t a whole lot we could do about it. Some people would agree with us, some wouldn’t.  Some would respect us, some wouldn’t. Some would accept us as we are, some wouldn’t. But we had to set that aside and live the life we each knew would be best, regardless of anyone else’s opinion.  Fortunately, we both have the full support of our families. I ultimately made the decision to file for divorce and leave behind the life I had come to know, the life of the outwardly appearing “Fairy tale”, because in reality, I wasn’t as happy as the princesses you read about.  Steve, on the other hand, decided it was time to declare to the world, or at the very least his family, initially anyway, that he wasn’t interested in finding Cinderella.  I’ve alluded to it before, by referring to Steve as the Will to my Grace, but the fact is one of my best friends is gay.  (This is where Steve and I look at each other and say, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that” and laugh hysterically)

Yesterday morning I got a text from Steve at about 7:30 to say he was on his way to pick me up and before I dragged myself from the comfort of my bed to get ready, I perused the facebook status updates of my friends.  There was one that stuck in my mind.  One of my brother’s best friends, Brandon, posted this:  A lot of my best friends married outside of their race.  I love that our parents taught us that it’s ok to love everyone, and anyone.  Gay, black, white, whatever.  Love the one you’re with!!  Then Brandon went on to tag my brother and a bunch of other guys I have always thought of as my “little brothers” who I’ve known since they were about 7.

Now, obviously I’m not going to marry Steve (even though we joke about it often).  And not just because he constantly reminds me that I’m gross.  But that’s all beside the point.  I’m glad his parents taught him to love without judgment, because Lord knows how much I needed to be accepted when Steve stumbled into my social run that Spring evening.

The point is about being accepting of our differences.  Going through a divorce taught me more about grace than anything I have ever experienced in my life.  The people I appreciated most as I went through the process were the ones who accepted me and loved me through it, without judging me or interjecting their own opinions about what they thought was best for my life.  In reality, I lost some friends.  I had to endure hateful and hurtful words from some people. I felt judged and occasionally I felt like the person I am wasn’t enough.  It was hard and scary and sad.  The truth is, no one ever really knows what’s going on inside someone else.  But I had some really great people come along while I was lost in that uncharted territory.  People like Steve.

We all have our own struggles, our own opinions, our own weirdness, our own issues, our own baggage…should I continue?  I think you get the idea.  We all have to march into the uncharted territory that is called Life.  And for better or worse, Life doesn’t come with a manual, or a map.

As Steve and I began our quest into Chubb yesterday, we were both dragging a little.  He pulled a map out of the box by the trail sign and I exclaimed loudly, “We are not taking a map.  That’s ridiculous.”  One of the nearby hikers mentioned that it was a pretty easy trail.  We quickly realized she meant easy to follow, not easy to run.  It was steep, rocky, rooted, technical and challenging.  And despite the theory that it was “easy to follow”, we still managed to hit a dead end and found ourselves lost about a mile in.  So we backtracked. We hit another dead end.  Backtracked again and finally found the path we were supposed to be on.  I joked about the two us getting off the beaten path…shocking, right?

We got a few miles in and came to point where we could go a couple different directions, but Steve’s back was hurting, we were getting low on water and we were at a good point to turn around.  So we headed back.  We ran into some friends out for a hike with their new puppy.  We saw lots of families.  One little boy stared at me with a wide eyed grin as we passed.  I’m hoping he was thinking that he wanted to grow up and run trails like that.  We both rolled an ankle at least once and I hollered out loud when a rock jabbed the side of my foot right where I have developed a nasty blister.  We got to another point where we thought we had taken a wrong turn, backtracked only to figure out that we were in fact on the right track so we continued our course.  The run back was considerably faster than the run out and we ended at just about 5 miles for the day.

When we finished our run, we hung out in the pavilion for a bit before we headed back to my house to spend the day at the pool.  While we sat there, I tried desperately to remember what I had done last year for Labor Day.  I was racking my brain but unable to remember.

Eventually, we hopped back in Steve’s car, stopped for some SoBe’s and made our way to the Lake Chesterfield pool for one last day in the sun.  Nick stopped by to swim with us for a while.  And later the three of us ended up back at my house grilling and drinking on the porch.  (Side note: The last time the 3 of us were together, JUST the three of us, was the infamous night of Nick’s birthday when Steve shared his brilliant idea of signing up for the Vancouver marathon for his own birthday, and I said, “Great, I’ll go with you!”)

Anyway, after dinner, Nick eventually decided to run home and Steve and I watched a few old episodes of Arrested Development.  We’ve already decided we’re going as Tobias and Lindsay for Halloween this year.  Hilarious?  Yes, I think so.  Around 9 something, Steve left for home.  About 30 seconds after he left, I burst into tears as I finally remembered Labor Day last year.  Not all of it, but I remembered spending about an hour curled up in Katrina’s arms sobbing uncontrollably.

You see, my kids started school today.  The day after Labor Day.  Just like they did last year.  And the year before that.  And so on.  Last year, it occurred to me on Labor Day morning, that it was the first time that I wasn’t going to be the one to pack the lunches on the first day of school.  Or help the kids pick out their clothes.  Or help Ally with her hair.  Or tuck them in on Monday night and say a special prayer for each of their teachers.

Today, just like last year, I met my kids up at the school to take a picture and walk them to their classrooms.  This will likely be our new tradition and thus our new “normal”, which still just feels weird to me.  After I got back to my car, I proceeded to have myself a good long cry.  Partly because Silas, my baby, started Kindergarten.  Partly because life doesn’t look the way I thought it would.  I have given up the fairy tale.  And partly because I am completely hormonal.  Whatever.  The fact remains that I am continuing to enter the unknown territory of this thing called Divorce.  I am still learning what it means to be a single parent and what that looks like.  Two of the boys’ previous teachers found me having my “moment” and I can’t even tell you how much I appreciated their hugs.  At least I know that my kids are in great hands.

I can’t imagine what yesterday would have been like if I hadn’t spent the day with Steve.  Being with him, exploring, laughing, just chilling, took my mind off of the anxiety that could have overwhelmed me all day and instead we just had a really great day.  And that made me think about something, life will always hold the challenges of unknown territory, but as we learn to navigate the obstacles, and dead ends, backtracking and resetting, and everything in between, it’s so much better to have someone with us when we do.

I’m still encountering new territory, new challenges, on pretty much a daily basis.  But I’m so thankful for the people who remind me that I don’t have to do it by myself.  I’m not the only one trying to figure things out.  And I don’t have to figure it out alone.

So, yeah, I don’t get to do all the things that some moms do.  I only make about half the lunches. I only do half the drop offs and pick ups.  But I’m still a full time mom, because I don’t ever stop loving my babies.  And I hope if there is one thing that they learn from me, just like Brandon said, it’s that it’s ok to love everyone, and anyone.  I hope they look at me, and see that I choose love, because I am loved in return.  And for that, there is no map needed.

Steve and I on our Labor Day Chubb Expedition