Leaving Park City

My time in Park City has finally come to an end, and I don’t know whether to feel elated or lost. It has already been 5 months, but it seems like I just found out I would be headed there for a job opportunity. I thought during the 5 months I was there, that I was going to be using the time to build a stronger marriage with my husband. He did not want me to leave again, and for the first month I was there, I felt an intense guilt for leaving again. I cried almost every day. I even cried on public transit. I felt like I was so selfish to leave again, and that by doing, so I was ruining my marriage even further. I also missed my family and my dog so deeply. Little did I know, that my life would be forever changed by the time my 5 months in Park City was over.

Not many people know this, but I almost did not even go to Park City. I woke up the morning my flight was about to leave and just decided that I could not do it, and I just went back to sleep. However, when I woke up again, I had this horrible sense of dread that just fell over. For some reason, I knew in my gut that I had made a terrible mistake by choosing to not go to Park City, so I spent an extra $200 and rebooked my flight for the very next morning. Now that I know everything that was to come with Trey, I don’t know what I would have done if I had decided to stay in Nashville and work things out with Trey in person. Since I had married Trey, I had been ignoring my intuition for years, so I am so thankful that I decided to listen at that moment.

With that being said, my time in Park City will remain one of the toughest times in my life. Being alone in a new city with no family as my entire world crashed down around me was indescribably painful. After my story went viral on social media, many people commended me for being so put together under the circumstances. However, in reality, I could not even leave my bed. I missed an entire week from work at my new job, and I was constantly having panic attacks in the middle of the night. I am thankful that I was able to find safety by going to Park City, but my time there will always be associated with this traumatic event in my life. It is so strange because I don’t feel like I would have survived this pain if I had stayed at mine and Trey’s home when all of his infidelities came to light. I am so glad I was thousands of miles away when I found out about his lies, but at the same time, healing from this while also being thousands of miles away from my entire family almost broke me.

I don’t think how quickly life can change will ever stop catching me off guard. Now that my time in Park City is through, I should be going back to move in with Trey to our new apartment in Kentucky. Instead, I am writing this from Bar Harbor, Maine with absolutely no intentions of ever existing in the State of Kentucky. I am not even sure if I will ever permanently return to Nashville, outside of visiting my family. Instead, I am taking a well-deserved trip with my mom and sister as I prepare for another summer working on Mackinac Island. So far, I don’t think a day has passed where I have not verbally said aloud: “I literally don’t know what the f$^k I’m doing anymore.”

I went to Mackinac Island last year to find myself again after losing the baby. It was just supposed to be a one-time thing. Somehow, someway, I am now going back for round two. I don’t want to sound ungrateful because I am not. Getting to be an event coordinator on a legitimate island is absolutely dreamy, and I am so excited to share that journey with you all. However, such a large part of me has yet to find a way to stop grieving the parts of my life I lost to give me this opportunity. I would rather have my child and the man that I thought Trey was. I want my old life back. I wish I didn’t. People tell me every day how lucky I am, but I don’t always feel lucky. Why did it take such horrific events in my life for the doors of opportunity to be opened? Why couldn’t I have a normal life with my husband and child that still lead to the path of success?

I know there are so many of you who follow me and are grieving in the same way that I currently am. I know we never will, but if one of us ever finds the answer to any of those questions, let’s pinky promise to share our findings with the group.

ANYWAYS….I am really excited to be in Bar Harbor right now. For those of you who are not familiar with it. Bar Harbor is a little tourist town on the Atlantic coast in Maine in the heart of the Acadia Mountains. If you are 15 years old in the brain like me, it feels very The Summer I Turned Pretty coded, and the perfect backdrop for Taylor Swift’s song August. Honestly, it's kind of a lot like Mackinac Island except this place has cars, and 800 fewer horses. It also reminds me of the trip I took with my mom in sister last year to Big Sur. Instead of mentally healing via the Pacific Ocean, I will be channeling the Atlantic Ocean to act as an “au naturel” lobotomy of sorts.