My story/truth today is that I saw my two youngest daughters—both are in high school—last weekend in CA and it was the best weekend we've had in ... ever. Or at least since my divorce. There was more mirth than teen (or perimenopausal) angst. More tenderness than armor. Having been apart for a couple months, I had no idea how it would go. Turns out we all miss each other and enjoy each other's company after what now feels like a healthy separation. They are fine living with their dad this semester. Just as they were fine living with me last semester. I had been racked with maternal guilt because I wasn't focused on the whole pie. On integration. On complexity. On acceptance.
Their truth was they weren't happy here because they missed their friends (and their dad) and now they miss me. My truth is that I am happy pretty much anywhere and I miss them when I'm not with them. Our truth is that it will all be okay.
When my ex-husband and I got divorced, our co-parenting therapists (and others with PhDs) told us that if we were okay as co-parents and individually, the kids would be okay. Okay is a relative term, of course, and it fluctuates. But for now, for this day, I breathe in gratitude.
Life doesn't always go to script. Things happen for a lot of reasons. Some unacknowledged, by ourselves, by others, for a week, a decade or a lifetime.
The best we can do, as I see it, is try to see the whole pie, knowing in our heart of hearts that each piece—each person's truth, partial, personal or otherwise refracted—is essential.