The woman who cries in bar bathrooms.

A few years ago I found myself in a rut.

Okay, rut is probably a huge understatement. I was in reality more like15 feet into dysfunction.

As many weekends as I possibly could, I subconsciously searched for all sorts of escapes. Home was not a place of peace or comfort or happiness. I didn't even understand then, as I do now, the way it feels to be home.

My unhappiness affected everything, namely my relationships. I hurt people and if I couldn't hurt them I would try to drag them down with me.

I never really wanted to marry the father of my children, I just held onto the hope that we would somehow be a broken whole. To be honest, I don't think he really wanted to marry me either. Over the years I lost myself, bit by broken bit, and forgot what it felt like to believe in people (myself included). I didn't understand my married friends. I don't think they could understand me either.

I've been thinking a lot about a particular night a few years ago. It was my very close girlfriends 30th birthday. In a lot of ways we were the same, but all I wanted to do was let loose, have some drinks, dance, laugh, forget.

A few drinks down, all she wanted was to get home to her husband, kids, home, bed, life.

I remember her crying and leaving. I remember not understanding.

Fast forward to now, I'm that woman. The woman crying in the bathroom at the bar. You know, if I ever even found myself in a bar again. All I can think about is getting home. Getting into bed. Picking my babies up. Being a family. Being whole, only together.

Now I'm the woman I couldn't  understand before. I don't know the other girl anymore. I guess she got forgotten when I put the pieces back together. What a beautiful loss.

We all have to find our own way in our own time I guess.

To my married friends, who stood by me (and to be honest, put up with me) when they couldn't understand me, you have a most special place in my heart, even from afar. Thank you.