How I Learned To Forgive and Take Responsibility For The End Of My Marriage

 

During the initial stages of your divorce, you may hear many well-intentioned people talk about your need to forgive and take responsibility for your part in the failure of the relationship.

If you were anything like me, you might feel an intense desire to tell those people where to take their sage advice (and I’m not talking a tropical vacation). If the decision to divorce was not mutual, the shock and sadness can surface as rage, even more so if your partner’s declaration came “out of the blue”. The idea of forgiving your partner may feel like you are in agreement in the decision to divorce or that it’s just perfectly acceptable that they are destroying the life and dreams that you two shared.

The prospect of taking responsibility may feel like giving credence to your partner’s admonishments that “you should have known” or releasing your partner from the guilt of breaking the most sacred of vows.

Now, looking back I have to admit that those well-meaning people had a point, yet while they were right, their timing was far off.

What I now know was how important it was for me to wrap myself in the cocoon of “good guy” while my ex took the role of the “bad guy”. In that protected place of victimhood, I was able to let go of control and accept the ending of the life I had known- not in a wise way, I admit, but in my own way nonetheless.

Although I committed to a few choice codes of conduct that kept me healthy as a woman and as a mom, I gave myself some leeway in my behavior. When I was mad I got mad, when I was sad I cried, when I felt reckless I acted on many of my impulses. I tried Botox. I took weekends trips with no destination. I rediscovered hangovers.

The best I could do during this phase was to moderate and contain my emotions when I needed to be a parent or interact with my ex. Even though I wasn’t graceful during this period, for me, it was enough.

I am now less willing to stay quiet when I need something in relationships and am committed to act directly rather than suffer in passive-aggressive brooding silence. I am committed to honoring myself as I am and not how I wish I could be to make someone happy. I will not allow myself to be financially taken care of to the point where I lose my own confidence and the pleasure of feeling competent and successful.

After a while, I began to feel the constraint of being “the wounded one.” There was no room for anything but the drama of the latest hurt, being the ever-suffering star of my own sad story, and listening to myself and friends talk about how my ex could be such a cruel bad person.

Yet all the while I knew my ex wasn’t truly a horrible person, in fact, I still liked many parts of him and was happy that my son would get to enjoy, many of his good qualities. Maybe they weren’t enough for being married but they were more than enough for being a good dad. I realized that as comfortable as the role of the victim was, I did not wish to define my life and my child’s life with feeling betrayed.

I began to realize that what I really wanted was to be on equal footing- I wanted respect for who I was and who I wanted to become. I no longer wanted to have my feelings and actions depend upon my ex’s but depend on my own interests and desires and capabilities for the future. I wanted to be happy again, and as comfortable as my little cave of pity was, my future was elsewhere.

My journey out of victimhood began with small acts of giving- a favor, a sincere apology and a bit more understanding.

I began to feel more in control and less concerned with what he was doing wrong and focused on what I could do to make it right. I focused on recognizing the efforts my ex was making in his growth as a father and noticed his hesitant acts of kindness towards me as well. The changes in our interactions and our relationship were significant. We both began to heal rather than hurt and to at last grieve for what we had lost, on our own, in our own ways.

I now realize that I am thankful that my ex took on the extra burden of guilt for those first months and maybe he didn’t do so willingly, but it was extremely helpful and appreciated. I began to see that although my ex wasn’t feeling the same things I was during those first months, he was suffering greatly, too.

Now I am so much more willing to recognize that guilt is not something I want him to endure. It makes for bad communication and bad parenting. New self-awareness and responsibility is welcome, shame is not.

Although I do not take full responsibility for the divorce, I do take responsibility for many of the difficulties in the relationship.

I am now less willing to stay quiet when I need something in relationships and am committed to act directly rather than suffer in passive-aggressive brooding silence. I am committed to honoring myself as I am and not how I wish I could be to make someone happy. I will not allow myself to be financially taken care of to the point where I lose my own confidence and the pleasure of feeling competent and successful.

If you find yourself in the role of victim resisting forgiveness and responsibility my advice would be:

Ask yourself if its something you truly need at this time. Then ask yourself again in a month and again in another month.

Warn your friends and your ex: Take responsibility for your stance and reassure them you will come out when you are good and ready. But if you find yourself making a permanent home of victimhood, maybe its time to reconsider what it has to offer you and your children. In victimhood, there is little future. They may hold the blame but you maintain the powerlessness.

I for one understand what it is to lose the dreams and the family that you once thought would be yours, but only in moving forward will begin to feel a new self and family emerge.

Begin with small steps and watch as changes happen in yourself and possibly, in your relationship with your ex. Realize that their unhappiness does not determine your happiness. In the end, you’ll find that despite the many changes you can flourish. And your family, although maybe a bit more complicated and expanded, can again find wholeness.