The Biggest Risk I Ever Took

I float past a full-length mirror but stop to back up. I need to look at myself.
What I see, I barely recognize. It's been a week since my world was shattered into shards of glass. Everything I knew about love, marriage, and safety in my own skin was wrong. At every memory, I feel splinters from the broken pieces.
But here I am, still alive and in the same skin I had a week ago but my insides are different. My heart is cold yet pained like icicles have been stabbed through it.
I let my eyes move up from my sheer black stockings up to the laced-tipped thighs. I run my fingers over my matching lace panties and touch the scar on my stomach, just below my belly button.
Tears fill my eyes as my husband's words echo in my head. "Your scar is beautiful, like you." I wonder if anyone will ever love me or my scar like he did... if this doesn't work.
I adjust my bra and move closer to the mirror to look into my own eyes. They are dark and red and exhausted. There is no life in them.
Here I am. I'm just a girl asking boy to choose me. Choose me over her. Be me with me not her. Love me not her.
Butterflies stir in my stomach. What if he says no? What if this doesn't work? What if I make a fool out of myself?
Blood rushes through my body and bumps begin to rise on my exposed skin. Maybe if he remembers what it's like to be with me, he'll fight for me too.
Suddenly, I feel excited. It surprises me.
This is it. This is what life is about. I'm putting it all on the line. My heart, my ego, my body, my all. And if he doesn't choose me, at least I have the courage to ask with everything I've got.
My spine straightens and a sparkle returns to my eyes. Ah, there I am.
I feel ALIVE.


The biggest risk I ever took was for my marriage. What I didn't know at the time was that leaving would have been easier, and no one would have blamed me. But deep down I knew I had errs to rectify. I had responsibility to take. I had a husband to fight for.

That the deepest part of me could still see and love the deepest part of him. I was willing to go the distance to try. I wasn't sure how it would turn out, but I was sure that I would regret it if I didn't give it my all.

My all meant exposing my heart and opening myself up to being hurt again. He would have to be just as committed as me, but I was willing to risk first.

To anyone who is struggling in a relationship, if you want to repair it or you want to recreate passion we MUST being willing to go first. Be the first to say sorry. Be the first to say the truth. Be the first to get uncomfortable.

In that courage, no matter happens, I promise you, you will at least get closer to finding yourself.



If you haven't read my post about risk, you can go the blog archives here or follow me on Instagram or Medium.


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