03/14/2019
I wrote this over a year ago while going through my divorce.
In looking back over this page and trying to decide what direction to go with it, if any at all, I was reviewing the page stats.
This one post, that had nothing to do with my business, has had the most engagement by far than any other post in my 7 years of being here.
This post. That was written from a time of my own loss, and heartache and confusion.
Over half of you engaged with this post. Organically. No paid ads. Over 3000 of you. The next highest engagements only rarely neared 1000, and many of those were targeted ads.
It has left me with a desire to use this space to connect people. And with people. To share the hard stuff. The good stuff. The real stuff.
And not just my stuff. There are so many of us trying to find our way through this journey of life - let's not do it alone. Have something you want shared? Let's talk.
So, hi. It's been a while. I'm Shaye and being social makes me anxious. But I'm hoping to be around here more. And to help more.
Bear with me as I do my best to figure out how â¤ď¸
6 years ago, soon after finding out that my husband of 8 years had been unfaithful to a degree that reduced me to nothing, I started ingesting anything and everything that I could that gave me any sort of hope or understanding or grasp on my spinning life.
There was a concept that I came across of rowing my own boat. So often there is this idea that within marriage, or any type of committed relationship, that the two individuals were now sharing a rowboat traveling down the river of life. And I wholeheartedly subscribed to this idea. That there was one boat. Our boat. And if he rocked the boat, brought on water, decided to stop rowing then it negatively affected me. And in some way I always felt responsible to fix it, or pick up the slack or figure out what was wrong with me that was causing it.
Then this idea was introduced to me that we were NOT in fact in the same boat, but two separate boats traveling down the river of life together at our own paces. This idea was mind blowing and freeing to me. Itâs a beautiful picture to see two rowboats journeying together, choosing to venture out into the unknown side by side. But this concept made it so that if he decided to stop rowing, I didnât have to. I was on my own journey still. I was allowed to choose for myself if water came into my boat. If I wanted to stop for a while and catch my breath. If I did something to make it off balance it just took me recentering myself and adjusting my own oars to get back on track.
And the beauty of this, was it was the same for him.
I had for so long taken on his water as mine own. Doubled my workload of rowing when he decided not to. Made space for the variety of distasteful fish that he allowed into the boat, that I didnât want there. Fought and went in circles when we wanted to paddle different directions.
This idea of two boats, one journey is one Iâve tried to live by ever since, but was just recently reminded of when I found myself back in his boat taking on water and trying to make him go a direction he didn't want to.
I love being on the journey with another human soul, but itâs absolutely imperative that I have my own boat. My own me. My own whole being to bring to the journey. I take care of my boat and the troubles that come with it and he does the same and we can choose how much and when we are able to give to one another based on the condition of our boats.
It was the beginning, for me, of figuring out what was mine to own, what was his and what was ours. Boundaries. You canât pour from an empty cup, you canât row from a broken boat.
Row your own boat and allow them to do the same, give up the control of their boat. Let them come into their own and focus on doing the same for you and watch how you both evolve.
Sometimes weâre side by side, sometimes one is further ahead of the other, sometimes my boat is so beat down and broken that I have no choice but to shore up and work on me. But the work I do on myself only ever benefits the journey as a whole.
So pick up those oars, decide on your destination and row your own boat.
Two boats, one journey. Row.