To be perfectly honest, I have probably spent more time preparing for this moment, rehearsing this moment, dreading this moment, evading this moment… than I spent ever being happy in my marriage.
That should speak for itself. You would think I would have ran without looking back when the “opportunity” presented itself. Shouted to the world- “I was right! I was right! I have been validated! I am free!” Maybe basked in the Victim Glow for a while, got a nice Victim Tan?
Not for me.
For every ounce of reservation I had for the privacy of my marriage before, it magnified by 1,000% when I found myself sitting in the shittiness that my world became the day I got the phone call. I was right. All along. I knew it. For years. I suffered for years, and I was right all along. Being right never sucked so hard.
Reliving it all:
Until it sucked worse. It was like a never ending plunge into complete darkness. My thoughts owned me. As if the years of unhappiness in the marriage weren’t enough to break me, I endured many more months of unhappiness as I tried to free myself from the wreckage. Reliving it all, but with a clearer lens. Over and Over. Very privately, suffering alone.
I awkwardly, and painfully got through entire conversations with co-workers, friends and family, like everything was normal. I was “ok”. My husband was at home waiting on me, not banished from our apartment, removed from his throne. That seemed more reasonable than coming out and admitting that I was right all along. A better option than admitting that I was not good enough for my husband, that he needed an affair to get through life with his wife and children.
Funny how those wrapped up in their own sorrows find these exits. They throw a grenade hoping to break free of their own pain and leave a wake of innocent by-standers, those closest to them, forever scarred and damaged. The extent of destruction left behind by an affair, particularly when there are children involved, is unfathomable. Never ending. And irrevocable.
A hard pill to swallow:
To have been the one fighting so hard to save your mate, to keep the relationship alive, to keep the family together, to have ended up not being enough, is a damn hard pill to swallow. Not to mention communicating casually in conversation with other innocent by-standers. Why do more people need to be afflicted with the shrapnel from that grenade? And on a more selfish note, one more pitiful “I’m so sorry! I can’t believe it!” would have hindered my healing.
So fast forward two years, to today. Nearly two years have passed since the “day of confirmation that everything you had thought was true for four years, actually was true, only worse”. Members of my family and friends will hear of this tragedy for the first time, by way of this posting.
Secrets and lies:
“You struggled for words, you could never say somehow. But there’s no where to run, cause The Secret’s out now”- (thank you Airborne Toxic Event for writing the soundtrack to my life. #forevergrateful).
Funny thing about secrets… when kept they hold you back from your potential. When exposed, they free you from the weight and negative energy that binds you, opening up a world you never knew existed.
Although I grieve the years of my life I can’t get back, that I was asleep, I honor them as though they are the reason I finally woke up. I have become limitless in this journey to heal. Where I used to see obstacles, pain and suffering, I now see wide open horizons, love and light.
The nights I spent in horrific sob fests in my shower or bath were steps towards my limitless self. Baggage had to be shed. Emotions had to be drug to the light and confronted. The self that I had been repressing for years had to make an appearance. And damn, she made an entrance of it all…
Defining who you are after divorce:
Was my Divorce (maybe even my marriage…) the worst thing that ever happened to me? Probably. But it was also the best. We are all faced with situations of deep pain and struggle and we all have choices to make about how we alter our paths thereafter. My Divorce will not define me, my husband or our children. Your life is what you make of it. You orchestrate your own universe, every day. Accept the responsibility and amaze yourself at the shifts you can make within yourself and your world.
My Divorce Story is a story of survival. A story of growth and compassion. A story of healing and love. In fact, it’s not a story so much as a journey. With no foreseeable end. It’s not about Divorce. It’s about Life. Every day of my life has been an entry in my personal research journal of the human spirit.
I’m getting a Divorce. I also had oatmeal for breakfast. Way to keep perspective. Good talk, universe. Good talk.