Since starting this blog, I’ve been whining a lot about my X. It ends today (at least for a little while).
Although I may complain and vent a bit, divorcing my X has been a gift.
That’s quite a statement given the fact that I live with my parents, am very much in debt (after a decade of being essentially debt-free), have very little social life, and live in constant fear of what’s next with my X.
Even all that I have to deal with today is better than living the below-average life I once lived. Sadly, I would have been happy to plod along in my unfulfilling marriage, propelled only by inertia. It took an earthquake to wake me up. I am finally present.
How many chances do we get to erase the board and create a better life?
I am blessed to have another opportunity at living the life God intended for me. I haven’t quite figured out what that life is yet, but I know my life with the X was not the right one. Do I change careers? Do I move? What do I want my life to look like? These are all intense questions I ask myself. Approaching 40, I feel more prepared than ever before to forge a new way forward.
But not only is my future so bright (I gotta wear shades), my present is far improved. I rediscovered parts of myself that had been non-existent in my married life—self-confidence, spirituality, physical and mental health, and quiet strength.
I am not the only one who benefits.
My children see their mother model grace, courage, dignity, patience, forgiveness and determination in a very difficult situation. I am a better mother outside the unhealthy dynamic I lived in. I can also better protect them from and explain to them the difficulties they are likely to experience with their father.
When I enter into another relationship, I will do it as a whole person and will be able to model healthy relationship skills.
I’m not making light of the fact that divorce is hard on children and has been especially so on my daughter, age 6. Had there been a way for my X and I stay together in a health, loving marriage—which would have involved both of us going to long-term counseling—that would have been best. But while I attended therapy, my X was in la-la land with his mistress, telling me he wasn’t having an affair, that I was crazy, and that I needed help, not him. Oh, well…