The Wedding Ring is Off. Now What?
Marriage is hard. But holy hell, divorce is so much harder. When relationships become unbearably trying, pulling the pin can seem like the only option and of course, many times, it is. But guess what? The grass is not greener on the other side. It’s actually completely flooded and feels more like quicksand. It really bites—more so when children are involved. One thing to keep in mind is, regardless of how cheesy it may sound, the gorgeous lotus flower is born from mud.
Looking back, I wouldn’t change a thing. Although, if someone told me how hard breaking up was, I may have hesitated a bit more. If a friend was to confide in me about a rocky marriage and was thinking about walking away, I would say, “Think about how difficult it will be and multiply that by at least 100. Be prepared, and I will be right beside you when you need me.”
I can’t lie, there have been times when fighting with my ex after our separation made me question the decision I made to leave the family life I knew. There was so much missing from my life with him, no question, but I have also been extremely unhappy in my separation. I often wondered which was the lesser of the two evils. Quite a dumb thing to ask after I already made the decision, I know, but that’s how hard it was. Trust me, I still stand by my choice.
After he moved out, I knew it was my second chance at happiness and it was is exactly what I wanted but our constant fighting and arguing over BS that followed soon after was ridiculously disheartening. Especially when it’s with someone that I shared my hopes and dreams with, and who was truly my very best friend.
My initial reaction with the whole separation thing was, “Yes!” I felt like a load of bricks was lifted off my shoulders. Yeah, that didn’t last. Everyone goes through the emotional stages of separation, and people will always give their opinions about breaking up a family. All this compiled into one is the complete opposite of fun.
Dividing time with our children was the absolute worst. Waking up alone in our family home and having my friends say “lucky you, you get a break!” was annoying. The loves of my life are gone and I was all alone having to face a life I wasn’t accustomed to. Yes, this is such a wonderful place to be (insert sarcasm here).
At that point, I really had no idea what to do, so I mostly stayed in bed. When I wasn’t in bed, I chose to drown my sorrows. I indulged in a few too many cocktails and had an ample amount of late nights. I just didn’t know how to be alone, and I actually hated it.
It’s been two years since my separation. You won’t find me not being able to get out of bed anymore, and drowning my sorrows is a thing of the past. I’ve spoken to several people, both men and women, who have been down the same path. I heard two years is the magic number; the time the storm finally lifts and mourning the death of a family becomes easier. I am tired of feeling resentful and angry. All of this was what I asked for and what I wanted. I can’t expect my ex to deal with our separation the way I want him to; everyone deals with issues differently so who am I to judge him and his choices?
Today I feel a sense of calmness and I’m sure it will last. Now I am happy, and I am quite content being alone when the children are not with me. This was the hardest hurdle to overcome, one I did not anticipate at all.
I am a family woman. I always have been. I knew I wouldn’t miss married life, but I didn’t know I would miss my family unit. Being in denial about not missing my old family life got me through the first year. Missing my family life during the second year and constant fighting with my ex was emotionally intolerable. Thankfully, I’m past that phase.
My initial reaction to this life-changing decision was correct; this is my second chance at happiness, and I believe one should always chase a happy life. We are only given one life; why spend it being miserable?
Historically, I don’t believe divorce ever killed anyone, so why the hell did I feel like I got hit by a freight train over and over again?
Oh I know. Because I’m human—thankfully a resilient one.