Can we talk? -- I've got my pride and she's got you

**Note, I don't talk a whole lot about my marriage because someday I want my boys to read this blog and maybe even write here and I don't want this to be a place where they come around and read me or anyone else doggin' on their dad.  And don't get me wrong, there is plenty of blame to go around.  But for today's purposes, the barest of details will be added.**

I started back to college this week.  I quit school around 10ish years ago to be a wife and get ready to start a family.  I'm nervous as shit.  Why didn't I just finish it up the first time when there were no kids and only a handful of stressors in my life?  The answer on that one is easy and it's tied up in self doubt, anxiety and emotional abuse.  But I'm done with all that now and now that I have just anxiety and self doubt and two kids and an ex-husband with a girlfriend who seems hellbent on making me miserable  and car trouble and money trouble and every other kind of trouble under the sun.  So, of course, now is when I decided was the most opportune time to return to school.  People keep telling me they're proud of me.  I always smile and say "thank you".  But this isn't really my proud moment.

No, see, that moment came last year around this time.  A long time fan of Miranda Lambert, my Dad had bought me a fan club membership so I could buy tickets to her Lincoln show early.  That meant that when I saw one of my all time favorite female country artists I was in the front row.  Seriously, Dierks Bentley (who opened) got up and close and personal and his fiddle player grabbed my hand and winked at me.  But ohhhh Miranda.  She was glorious, as she always is.  She was all sweetness and spitfire and sass.  Ya know, a little like me.  And I don't know if y'all have heard it but there's this great little number she sings called "Gunpowder and Lead".  The song's about a real fahking monstah guy who beats his woman.  She goes home, waits for him to get out on bail...with a shotgun.  Now, don't get me wrong, I know every muthafahkin' word to every single song she sang.  But this one...oh man, this one hit home, especially last year.  It was the first time I'd seen her since the divorce.  And as I danced there, stompin my adorable Justin boots on the floor and singing my fool heart out, I started to cry.

"If he wants a fight well now he's got one and he ain't seen me crazy yet

He slapped my face and he shook me like a rag doll.

Don't that sound like a real man?

I'm going to show him what little girls are made of...

GUNPOWDER AND LEAD"

Lyrics from "Gunpowder and Lead" by Miranda Lambert

So as I'm boot-scootin' and stompin' and singing that lyric with tears streaming down my face I realize that that's my moment.  That's the moment I felt proud of myself.  For surviving.  For being brave.  For saying, "enough".  

So am I proud of myself for going back to school?  I guess.  But mostly I'm proud of myself for showing everyone what little girls are made of..."gunpowder and lead".