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Saying Goodbye to a Dream

Saying goodbye to our dream house.

Saying goodbye to our dream house.

Saying goodbye to a dream is scary when you don’t know what’s coming next. Even if you’ve tried to plan and picture what the changes will look like, you don’t know until you live it.

For everyone in the beginning, middle or end of a life change. This blog is for you. Whether you’ve ended a relationship, a marriage, or a friendship. Whether you’re moving, finding a new job or launching a new career. This blog is for you.

I was driving home from a family dinner in Boulder, trying to figure out HOW we were going to get the house empty in time. I kept worrying that this whole move was impossible. I was struck by words painted on the side of a building. I posted it on Facebook and my friend Sidney said it was Nelson Mandela.

It always seems impossible until it’s done.
-Nelson Mandela

The quote struck me as apropos while I contemplated the mountain of seemingly insurmountable change waiting at home.

Moving. Across the country. After divorce. Starting my business over from scratch.

I’m struggling to say goodbye to many dreams. The divorce has been final for awhile but seeing the house as it empties out is hard. The dreams we had when we bought this house are gone. Dead. Never to breathe with hope again. It’s almost like processing the divorce all over again. Though separating our belongings is actually the last step in this process.

I nested with abandon.

I nested with abandon.

When we bought this house we were married, loved each other, and eagerly expecting our new baby. We bought furniture to fit all of our family for Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners. We painted. Decorated. Well, let’s be honest, I was the force behind making the house a home. I “nested” with abandon. Paint chips, fabric swatches, the whole nine yards. This Army brat was going to PAINT and install stuff on walls.

Saying goodbye to a dream. Moving across country after divorce.

My son’s beloved room with hand painted bamboo. Those are paper lantern and firefly night lights.

I hand painted a bamboo forest in my son’s nursery. He has a giant giraffe and palm tree that he adored from infancy. There are monkeys, elephants, and lions and to this day he rejoices in showing them to me and re-telling the story that mommy made this room special just for him.

My studio.

My studio. Sigh. So pretty and fun. And so much laughter was enjoyed here.

I created a studio. An oasis for my creative spirit and for clients to feel comfortable. I always exhaled and enjoyed coming into this space. So did clients, friends and family. Everyone would come down the stairs and be shocked that a whole other world of vintage and feminine fun was nestled here.

The boudoir in the studio. The whole space was geared towards feeling pretty.

The boudoir in the studio. The whole space was geared towards feeling pretty.

Saying goodbye to the tree my ex-hubby’s family planted in honor of my son’s birth is so painful. Saying goodbye to all of this is painful.

In this house I overcame post-partum depression. The team from the Boulder Community Infant Program came to my home when the Bub was six months and saved my life. They got my son and me through these three tumultuous years. I wonder how I will flourish without them. Will I remember how much I’ve overcome when I’m not in the house?

Today my ex-hubby and I sat at the beautiful dining table I thought we’d share many holidays at, shoulder to shoulder, sometimes sharing a pen, and to any outsider would look like any couple. I couldn’t help but feel sad to revisit the many dreams we shared when we became homeowners.

The table I thought we'd share holidays, birthdays and many many milestones at.

The table I thought we’d share holidays, birthdays and many, many milestones.

I’m trying to name what I’m feeling. And honestly, I’m scared. I’m scared to start over. Scared my business won’t grow. Scared I won’t make friends. Scared I’m making a mistake. Fear of the unknown is making me want to hide in my bed under the covers. Then the movers come to take the bed and I’m forced to open my eyes.

Now it's just a room.

Saying goodbye to a dream. Now it’s just a room.

I’m pushing past the fear and saying goodbye to my dreams… Albeit tearfully. I hope the things I perceive as mistakes will be the best choices I’ve ever made.

It doesn’t take a lot of strength to hang on. It takes a lot of strength to let go.
-J. C. Watts

And of course I’ll update you all along the way. Here we go.

__________________________________________
Resources for postpartum depression
The Boulder Community Infant Program: for anyone in Boulder County, CO. Even if you’re not there, they can help refer you in the Denver metro area.
Postpartum Progress: a blog and amazing resource. I looked for help locally and my own doctors told me I was fine. Katherine Stone referred me to the Boulder Community Infant Program.
Iman Woods
Iman Woods

Iman Woods is an American artist who specializes in pin-up photography. Through a unique and therapeutic process, she’s spent over a decade in perfecting, Iman helps women undo the damage from a negative self-image and unrealistic beauty industry expectations. She helps women embrace their own style of beauty and see themselves in a new light. You can find her on her website, ImanWoods[dot]com.

Note: Articles by Iman may contain affiliate links and may be compensated if you make a purchase after clicking on an affiliate link.

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