Waiting

For those of you who have written me or are thinking of writing me or are just starting to let a little light into the thought that you might need to leave your marriage to save yourself, I need to offer a warning:

It is not easy.

Getting out of a marriage, even when the relationship has been dead for years or never really existed, is a long, painful, complicated procedure. It's like chewing your leg off to get out of a trap, only you're also chewing your kids' legs off, too. You know it's the only way to stay alive for all of you, and that you can heal and go on to live better things, but it hurts.

These past two years have been about losing. Losing who I thought I had to be, losing what I thought was important, losing what I thought my kids were going to have. Losing time with them, and the ability to be home with them. Losing sleep, losing my standing in the community.

You will lose friends. Sometimes people are either too secure in their own marriages or too insecure in their own marriages to want to be around someone in transition. Some women will assume that you're on the prowl for their husbands. People will tell you you're not a good mother because you're ripping apart your children's family.

It turns you into both a mirror for other people's insecurities and a deep well of things they never thought were in you. It's unsettling, for them and for you.

People will tell you divorce is the easy way out. The only people who say that are people who've never gone through it. It would be far easier to just say nothing, to suck it up and try to make yourself OK with things, to shrink so far into yourself that the only thing left is your motherlove for your children. To know your children deserve better, but to be living as a shadow of yourself.

But here is the thing: At a certain point, you will not be able to stay. Staying will suddenly be the impossible thing, instead of the only thing you can imagine. And you will be ready to do whatever it takes to leave. No matter how hard it gets, no matter how many obstacles you run into, no matter how much you lose.

Then, once you are stripped down farther than you thought you could be, the helpers start to appear. New friends, old friends who were waiting for you, kind bosses and co-workers, the guys at the deli across the street who tease your kids, your friends on the internet.

You can do this. But it's going to make you cry. A lot.

Now, two practical suggestions, for no matter where you are in the process:

1) Read the book Uncoupling by Diane Vaughan. It charts the process of ending a relationship from both sides, in a non-judgmental way. It was super-helpful for me in understanding how it all happened from my end, and also in understanding where my kids' dad was in the process. No blame, just really good insights, like the idea that the first "betrayal" of the relationship is when one partner feels like something is wrong but can't verbalize it enough to share it with the other partner. No assumptions about sexes of partners or legal status of the relationship.

2) Do NOT Google or Facebook search former boyfriends or girlfriends. It will only make you feel bad about your current situation, while impressed with how your former partners have turned out. It's tempting, but don't go there.

Comments

[Moxie]

Wow! It never would occur to me to talk to my babies about how they were conceived at all! I mean, the logistics of it.

I wanted both of my children so badly. I talk about that with them all the time. They were certainly conceived out of love for THEM.

Also, I really *wanted* to be in love with their dad, and had myself convinced that I was sometimes. Of course I was, right? We were married, after all...

[hedra]

Neither of my parents said this outright, but it was always conveyed in other ways, so that it was clear: Our marriage was the channel through which you became part of our lives, and that is something we will never regret.

I do think my parents thought they loved each other, but it was that stuffing-each-other-into-their-wounds kind of love, love for the relief of the issue the other provided, temporarily, until being the one who got shoved into the wound of the other became too much to bear, again. Both very wounded people, desperate to be whole. Both now whole, thanks to their essential natures demanding a path toward clarity and truth and a good way to be. They have an essential kindness toward each-other now that both are whole, respect, even though there are still bad memories for both.

I think if my parents met after they were fully healed complete humans, they'd NEVER have been more than vaguely attracted to each other. They loved the complimentary wounds more than the other person, maybe.

But they loved us, and that was never for a moment in doubt. I think that's really all that is necessary, from that side. And heck, I also know that every one of us except child number seven was unintended (damn that hyperfertility gene), but once we were known to be there, we were welcomed as if it had been a free choice. Child seven was with new husband, and by choice. Me, Nope. Surprise! But apparently my parents loved surprises. ;)

[Sandra]

"they'd also probably replicate the pattern they were marinating in and end up with women who didn't love or respect them. That's what broke my heart"

Oy, that hit me like a sucker punch to the gut. Since I was pregnant almost 2 years ago, I've been contemplating whether it's better for my son for me to stay with his father or leave. Things have been difficult for the longest time, but I just can't seem to sack up and leave. I've told myself that it would be better for the boy to stay, but I'm becoming less and less sure of that as time goes by. Moxie, your words above make me think twice about what I'm modeling for my son. I'm impressed by your thoughtfulness about this process, as well as your strength in gutting it out. Best wishes.

[taggie]

I'm approaching my 10 year anniversary and have sooooo many doubts. I'm scared of divorce, mainly how it'll affect my 1 year old DS. Then again, I can't imagine my son being 5, or 10, or 14 and STILL having the SAME doubts. I'm scared of losing myself and shutting down. I'm scared to leave, scared to stay.

Thanks for sharing Moxie! At least I know I'm not alone.

[anontoday]

THank you thank you thank you all for such a wonderful open nonjudgmental frank conversation!
I knew the moment I was pregnant (a surprise) that I couldn't marry my child's father. I haven't had to undo anything so much as decide not to do anything, since we didn't live together.

I came unbelievably shockingly thisclose to not welcoming my child into my life (as in inside pl*nned p*renthood's doors). I couldn't imagine how to create a decent life for the poor child with separated, not-in-love parents from the very beginning.

Two years later, my son is happy, well-adjusted, and loves us both. But I still struggle with the losses that a divided family carves into a child's life. Not that I imagine there could be any other choice for me- I was 120 percent certain and I have only gotten more sure, but still, there has been a lot of guilt. This discussion has helped me feel more at ease with my decision to stay separate, for my sake and my baby's.

Thank you so much.

[QGirl]

My sister-in-law needs to read that book, thanks for the rec. thanks also for everything you do. I follow your blog and it has served me well, I couldn't go a week without your advice!
Hang in there, you are so classy!

[lorrie]

Kids know. They do. They really, really do.

In my case I was lucky enough to know that my parents had love so strong that it makes a Danielle Steel novel look positively Hemingwayish.

A certain husband of mine had parents in a very different sort of relationship. I won't post details due to the fact that it isn't my story to tell but trust me that living with angry parents can really eff your head up. The only thing that kept him sane was that the break didn't happen until he was a teen and he had a Norman Rockwall childhood that has supported him and his sibling all their days and enabled them to have stable relationships.