I’m doing it. I’ve started this before. There were many befores, but I’m doing it.
The first before was because I was angry and I had no options. I excused that away because I decided I wouldn’t finish what he started and I never wanted. I stopped.
Another before was started and then stopped when I decided I wouldn’t be the person he wanted to make me into. I would be the wife I wanted to be, no matter what kind of husband he was being. That lasted 11 months. I tried. I won’t say I failed. I allowed another dream to replace the one that no longer served me.
There were plenty befores when I felt rage or pain or loss and I didn’t know what else to do. The action I took was no action. I wouldn’t allow a feeling to force my hand. Feelings come and go, but a choice I make is one I get to live with.
This moment right now will not become a before.
I’m not angry. There’s no pain. Last night I learned something that was shocking and could have been painful but it was more irritating. How dare a husband of mine disrespect me on such a visceral level? It wasn’t even about him, but the label I gave him when I gave him my hand and the disgust I felt. At the end of the day, I chose to make that boy my husband.
This is not about the person I’m dating. I’m not actually dating anyone special. There hasn’t been anyone on a date with me that was blog worthy for a while. It’s not that serious. Only one man has made it to a third actual date and he didn’t get number four because by then, his really sexy Italian accent wasn’t as hard to comprehend. I started to actually understand what he was saying and I couldn’t continue dating him. Just no and ewwww. No one else has made it past a first date, and my crushes were just crushes and wonderful for what they were. Would I have ever introduced either one of those boys to my kids? No. It was never even considered.
Six days ago I imagined a perfect day. For the first time, I was able to imagine being at a river with someone else. I thought about the shimmer of the sun reflected on flowing water and radiating painfully in my eyes. I could smell the sunblock and feel the warmth of the sun. I could hear laughter and imagined being in a place I’ve never been, surrounded by people and not on my own. I imagined waking up with someone, and bumping around a kitchen to make breakfast together. I pictured a hike with someone and sharing an afternoon and sunset on the pier with someone, followed by walking along the sand in deep conversation under a bright and full moon. I could hear the crackle and smell the burning wood while cuddled under a blanket around a beach fire pit. In all of this, I wasn’t imagining being on my own, but with someone special. It’s time. I’m ready for my divorce now.
I won’t lie, I’ve been putting it off all week. Every time I sat to fill out the forms, it didn’t feel right. I had things on my mind at work, and couldn’t get it done on my lunch. I had homework to help with and things I needed to do that became more important throughout the week. I’m doing it now. I’m filling out forms. I have two more to bang out before I start drafting that motion. What makes it right in this moment is I have my boys with me. My older two are happy and gaming, and I can hear the music from their games and the occasional geek out. My little one is playing and running to me to share whatever new thought crosses his mind. A house full of my babies, and the sounds of who we have become are what have been missing.
I’m excited about the next phase in my life. I have been sitting in this moment and fully appreciating what it means. I want more intention in this moment than there was on my wedding day when I thought, “shit, am I really doing this? What the hell, let’s do it.” There may one day be another wedding. If there is, it will include my family and not just three people, with one of them objecting. I chose to marry him, and even though it wasn’t my desire, I took his name. I am the only woman to marry into his family that has his name. I may be the only woman in his family with his name. I’m not sure what his sister and cousin did when they married their husbands, but I don’t really care either. I get to reclaim my birth name. I am the only person on this planet with the power and ability to divorce him. I get to divorce my husband and as his wife, it is the last mess of his I will ever have to clean up. Whatever children he decides to have won’t fall under the shame of my broken marriage. He always wanted a daughter and I never wanted to give him another child. I don’t have to live with what he felt for the surrogate daughters I carried for another family. I can be at peace with what I did with my body. When I’m asked about my marital status, I will no longer be in marriage purgatory and separated without a legal separation. I will be divorced and I will be single and I’ll only be connected by our boys.
I feel peace. I feel empowered. I feel joy. I feel alive. I feel hopeful.
It’s a great night to be me. I’m going to finish filling these forms out before bed and I anticipate pleasant dreams.