My divorce is final Monday.
While I’ve pictured this chapter for maybe…a year now?
It still feels heavy closing it.
There are plenty of pages I wouldn’t mind lingering on.
I’m having trouble moving on. Not in the sense that I miss him, because I really don’t.
It is just in my nature to hate change. And a lot of change has happened since March.
My thoughts are consumed with “This is it, after this point there is no going back” etc, etc.
As if each stage meant it was more serious in the ending of our relationship.
“He moved out but is there still a chance?”
“We had sex mothers day weekend but are back to fighting the next week. What does this mean?”
“He says he hates me but won’t look me in the eyes. Is it because he still loves me?”
“He filed for divorce. Could I undo what’s been done, in 60 days?”
I’ve spent a lot of time with my thoughts.
A lot of time just ‘being in it’ and feeling.
I’m having a hard time moving on because I desire closure.
I recently redid the enneagram test and was a little surprised when my results showed number 9.
Do others view me as such?
I wouldn’t think so.
I read a little into what being a number 9 meant.
Basic fear: of loss and separation.
Add a little (a lot) abandonment issues from childhood trauma and HERE I AM!
(sparkles added to give the allusion of healing being had!)
I’m a self sabotaging, self indulgent, glass half full, wanna be brave with my life but am terrified to feel discomfort human.
I am use to being the victim, because for a lot of my young life, I was to my parents choices.
I guess it became comfortable not being accountable for the hurt.
I have carried that into every relationship in my life.
I didn’t become aware of it until over the summer.
It wasn’t by choice, either.
Some dickwad called me out on it (and he was right).
I’m having a hard time moving on because being accountable, for my part in the deterioration of my marriage, hurts.
Becoming accountable means not playing the victim.
Not playing the victim means I’m healing. Healing means I’m growing.
Growth means moving on…
Maybe it’s the 9 in me, maybe it’s the 9 year relationship, or maybe it just is, what it is.
But loss rattles me.
Even though it was over, I didn’t want to deal with the conflict of leaving.
That was me being a pussy with my life.
So I took the ‘easy’ way out. I mentioned in my last entry that March began our shift into separation.
Though let me be very clear- Joe did not move until April 17th.
The first week of March he made the effort to go see a Doctor and start therapy.
Something I had begged him for, for a very long time.
At this point, it felt a little too late.
I know how that sounds.
It sounds like a pussy excuse, because it is.
At this time, I had already packed his belongings a week before.
I know how that sounds. It sounds like a pussy excuse, because it is.
I did express to him that I did not wish to continue our marriage.
I wanted to live as roommates and start taking nights that were ‘his’ and ‘mine.’
We both had threatened divorce so much in the past; that I believe it led him to think it would never happen.
He did not take me seriously when I said I wanted out.
^ that’s me trying to justify this next part.
I took the easy way out and started to entertain someone else.
It was innocent until it wasn’t.
Actually…maybe it was never innocent?
I knew what I was doing and the lines I was crossing.
I made a conscious choice to pursue things.
I took the easy way out and started an affair.
I hate the word ‘affair’ because it sounds sneaky.
I wasn’t being sneaky?
I told him I wanted out.
Not my fault he didn’t hear me.
Kind of like our entire relationship, right?
I did lie and say I was with friends.
But I never hid my phone and when he asked if I was sleeping with someone- I said yes.
I could of lied, but I didn’t.
I’m not the bad guy here.
In a sea of women that I surround myself with, I had one friend tell me “He’s hurting too, support him.”
That advice is something I still think about.
What if I would of never cheated?
What if’s can make a person sick.
“A choice made in anger can never be undone.”
Joe spent the next six weeks (until he moved out) trying to win me back.
He apologized more than he ever had.
He acknowledged his short-comings.
He did every chore I had asked of him before.
He read my blog- something he had only done with my first entry.
He invested in my love language.
He planned a date night.
And yes…we had disgusting break up sex as much as we could.
Still I didn’t desire to reconcile.
I kept on seeing the other guy.
In case you’re wondering- eventually fizzled out.
I took the easy way out because creating chaos is something I learned to do, in order to escape a situation I no longer wanted to be in.
Joe has told me “you didn’t have to blow shit up” on more than one occasion.
I’m just not so sure he would of ever left on his own will without the drama.
He did not make divorce an option until a few months later.
Now…looking back…if I could do it over, would I do it the same way?
A hundred times, no.
I convinced myself that we would be able to be friends and co-parent peacefully.
We spent nine years together.
Doesn’t that bond still count for something?
We’re both good parents.
We both love and want the best for our children.
Why wouldn’t this be easy?
Because not only did I break the vow of infidelity, I also left him at his ‘worst’.
I hurt him deeply because I didn’t want to feel hurt.
I sacrificed him to save myself.
OF COURSE HE DOESN’T WANNA BE KIND!
NO SHIT HE HATES ME!
I MADE MY BED AND NOW I MUST LIE IN IT!
You wanna know how I know it was bad?
I never told my therapist about the affair because I didn’t want to be held accountable.
I wanted to be the victim.
It was easy to move on that way.
Don’t deal with it
Sweep it under the rug.
See a new guy.
Thank u, next
This past Sunday I had the chance to see a friend and her husband.
I confided in him about what was going on and he told me this…
“Imagine a tree.
At the beginning of a relationship trust is formed.”
“Over time you build the foundation of your relationship.
Adding branches like chapters.”
“Now imagine cutting that tree down to a stump.
It’s painful, right?”
A lump in my throat, my eyes watered, and I was forced to see myself.
My husband (I sobbed typing husband because this is the last time I can call him that) is on one side of the tree, trying desperately to mend what is broken, to the best of his ability, with what he was taught.
Think gorilla glue.
Tough as fuck and effective in some scenarios.
But picture me on the other side of the tree with an axe.
He didn’t stand a chance and the sad part is, I didn’t want him to.
Do I regret the two of us going our separate ways?
Unlearning codependency is crucial for the both of us.
We each came from backgrounds with no example of a healthy relationship.
For our children’s future and even their children (if they so choose) we had to break the cycle.
I wish I would of preserved some sort of respect so we could have a friendship for our kids.
Children aside…we, as individuals, also deserve to be healthy and happy.
I was the best wife I could be, until I wasn’t.