The Middle: an invitation

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I don’t remember much from the day my husband left me.

He delivered the news, then left the house. I texted my neighbor. Took my ring off.

But one thing I vividly remember is looking up job opportunities around the country.

Within hours of my life ending, the next step was so clear: I would get a promotion within the organization I had worked for the last four years. It would be more money, more prestige. It would be above the Mason-Dixon Line (it was the 2016 election season after all).

It was so clear.

This is an extraordinary concept to me today, as I have no clear next step.

Three weeks ago, not 18 months after my husband walked out, my boss walked in and delivered the following news:

“Effective immediately, your employment has been terminated.”

For the second time in less than a year and a half, a man abruptly, coldly entered my life and ended it without warning.

I was 27. Married. A professional.

I am 29. Divorced. Unemployed.

My habit is to not announce anything until I’ve arrived at a perfectly sanitized moment worthy of sharing.

No one knew we were getting married, until we were married.

No one knew we bought a house, until we moved in.

No one knew I was getting a divorce, until I had my next job and new place to live.

This way, I was able to control the narrative: this happened to me at the start and I have figured it out — now you are invited into the story. You can’t influence the outcome or walk by my side, I’m agreeing on your behalf that we’ll meet at the finish line.

I wanted to save you from the middle. The middle is messy, vulnerable. The middle is filled with questions I can’t answer. The middle has no polish, no control — it’s raw and scary and authentic.

So here’s your invitation: I’m officially in the middle. It’s officially a mess. I have little direction, a shrinking bank account and no answers.

I’m told the middle is where the magic happens. I’m not yet sure if this magic appears, or if I make it myself. I suppose the only way out is through — and you’re free to join me, if you like.

7 thoughts on “The Middle: an invitation

  1. Aunt Mary March 22, 2018 / 7:46 am

    My sweet Cait – you are the BEST! And don’t you ever forget it! I know there are always bumps along the road to success. You never cease to amaze me, young lady! You just hold your pretty little head up high, step out the door and enjoy this new chapter! God has a plan for each and every one of us! Unfortunately He doesn’t always share His brainstorms with us! Have trust and faith! You’re going to be fabulous! “…you’ll be swell, you’ll be great, …you’ve got nothing to hit but the heights” Gypsy’s Everything’s Coming Up Roses. God Bless You! Love you a bushel and a peck!!! Aunt M ❤️

  2. Amanda Ruff March 17, 2018 / 8:09 am

    Take it from someone who lives in the middle. Each breath. Each step. Each moment. Has a meaning. A purpose. Take a step back and take some time to find you. You hold the key. The next door is yours to open. You have the passion. Strength and ability. Don’t give up! Love you!

  3. ladiekatielife March 16, 2018 / 9:33 am

    It’s time, Cait. It’s time to write the book.

  4. Jonna Stayner Dittmar March 16, 2018 / 9:10 am

    You are welcome to come join us in small town Illinois for a bit or a while…we always need substitute teachers…and we can always use help growing apples, pumpkins and making donuts! Just sayin…I’d like to join you in the middle…actually I might already be there too…

  5. Jessica Schiermeister March 16, 2018 / 8:45 am

    Cait, I’m so sorry this happened to you. And so abruptly too, without warning. If there’s anything at all that I can do for you from this side of the country, let me know.

  6. Sylvia March 16, 2018 / 8:27 am

    Are you considering leaving California? You know your family and friends will back you in every way possible.

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