Divorce. It’s a word right up there with all the other adjectives that could easily describe a piece of beautiful pottery that’s been cracked right down the centre. Words like “shattered”. Words like “incomplete”. Words like “lost”. Words like “failure”.
Two months into my divorce and I still wake up panicked in the middle of the night. At first I thought I was going insane. I’ve never had an anxiety attack before but a quick Google search at 2am while trying to catch my breath with PJ sleeves soaked in tears made me realise my symptoms ticked all the boxes. It’s not so much the fact that his side of the bed is empty. Or even that his rugby shirt is draped over a large silver frame holding a photo of us on our wedding day (just so I don’t have to constantly look at it). It’s the “not knowing” part that scares me.
When the cracks started showing
After 20 years of being with the same man, I am today completely unsure of who I am. We met when we were kids. He was a little older, a little smarter, a little more sure of himself. And I adored him. Over the years we followed the path most young people in love pursue. The path of happiness. We moved in together. Our first place was a rat-hole of an apartment that both our parents raised their eyebrows at when they first visited. But we didn’t care. We were in love. We adopted a dog. We made plans. We shared dreams. We exchanged vows and we had children together.
Somewhere along the way the infamous cracks started. At first they were tiny. Almost unrecognisable. But, as time went on, the cracks got deeper. I knew the marriage wasn’t working shortly after the birth of our second child. He showed no interest in the things that brought me joy. We stopped speaking. We argued constantly. I ate alone. I only really knew it was over though, the day my dog died.
But when I knew, I knew
Ironically, the death of a little miniature daschund whom I adored more than life itself caused a tidal wave in my life. He had been sick and, at the age of 16, there wasn’t much the vet could do to save his life. I sat in my car holding him on my lap, trying to decide whether I could find the strength and make the decision to end his suffering. I called my husband. Crying so much my words barely made sense. “Not now, love. I’m on the green. Still have three more rounds of golf to go. Can we chat then?”.
That was it. That was my light bulb moment. That was the wrecking ball that shattered the crack. That broke the pottery I’d been moulding and sculpting for years. That afternoon I buried my dog. On my own. The next day I asked my husband for a divorce.
I knew the power those words had. I knew the consequences. I knew I’d be the cause of a family ripped apart. Of two children forced to grow up in a broken home. It’s odd but so many people told me that it takes courage to stay in an unhappy marriage. That it takes work. That it takes commitment. But, I soon realised that the opposite rings true. I could have stayed. It would have been far easier to stay than it was to leave.
I had to believe that I deserved more
The first few weeks were a blur. Heated arguments. The constant reinforcement from my ex that I was to blame for ruining so many lives. How could I have left? Did I know the damage I’d done to our children? The damage I’d done to him? Yes. I knew. I didn’t need constant reminding to know either. What I needed was to trust myself. Was to believe that I deserved more.
It’s a daily struggle. I’ve had to learn to be kind to myself. To accept that I will feel like a failure one day, and a mighty warrior another. I cannot say that in the future I won’t regret my decision to end my marriage. I wish I could be sure as it would tame many of my fears.
One piece at a time
What I can say is that I accept I am broken. There are parts of me that are more broken than others. Parts that can be fixed by good friends, morning lattes and early evening jogs in the park. Parts that can be fixed by seeing my children happier without two parents constantly at each other’s’ throats. Parts that can be fixed by the feeling of empowerment I have knowing that I took control of my own life and made a choice. These are the parts I plan on gluing together first. One piece at a time.
Further reading …
In another personal story about divorce, another amazing woman tells us how she found a beautiful strength that she never knew she had. In “When Someone Sets You Free”, she shares her moment of clarity after the divorce, and ultimately, her reconnection back to life.
We can heal from divorce, from broken relationships, so read more in “When Someone Sets You Free”
