A few days ago I was speaking to an acquaintance I have known for several years when the news of my recent engagement came up in the conversation. He seemed surprised and asked me how long I have been divorced. True, I have only been divorced for 6 months but I was separated for a year before that. Then it got me to thinking: How long were we actually “together” in the 13 years of marriage? So, I sat down and figured it out. First off, our entire 3 years of courtship was spent apart. We would see each other on weekends. And on those weekends, we would only spend a few hours together because he lived in another city and worked on the weekends. Once we were married, we were able to spend the first 2 years together. Those first two years were eventful. We had our first child and lost our house in the Cerro Grande Fire. In late 2000 until early 2005, he worked in another city and would come home on the weekends when he was not working overtime. In early 2005, he accepted a job in Phoenix. He moved to Phoenix, leaving me and both kids in Los Alamos to sell the house. Until 2008, we were apart with one or both of us working in another city. He was not active in my life or the kid’s lives at all. It was more like we were friends and he would come and “crash” at my place when he was in town. In 2008, he fell into a deep depression and could not hold a job. Nor was he actively looking for work. I took on another job, attended school full time, and took care of the kids and the house. Looking back, I see how exhausted I always was, running around like that. I begged him to go to a therapist, to speak to someone at church, or even a friend. In the fall of 2009, I gave him an ultimatum…..either seek help, or I was leaving. It was then that he asked me for a divorce. For the next few months I actively searched for a new place to live. All the while he was waffling between wanting a divorce, to wanting to work it out. I just couldn’t take the pressure anymore. I couldn’t take the fact that I was never good enough, or working hard enough to meet his standards. I could never measure up to this “idea” in his head of what a wife should be.
Of course, in all of this I learned about his indiscretions and other addictions he has. I wanted to work it out so badly. I did not want my kids to come from a “broken” home. I wanted them to always have mommy and daddy around and in the same house. But, were we really around for them? Weren’t we already broken? Our family life was not what it should have been. It took me a long time to see that and to come to the realization that we were better apart than together.
My ex did seek counseling. It turns out he was depressed and also suffers from bipolar disorder. He takes medication daily but the verbal abuse and the change in personality from one extreme to another has not stopped. And after numerous conversations with his therapist, it is not likely to ever stop.
So, as I think about how some may perceive that I am moving TOO fast into getting married again, I think about how I was alone, even when we were married. I think about the fact that just because I had a marriage certificate does not mean I was married. We were far from it. There is no doubt that I feel lighter and so much more in control of my own life these days. I no longer feel like I have to support the world on my shoulders, and be the sunshine in someone else’s life. That alone was a full time job for me. I honestly felt like I had another child that I had to support emotionally, physically, financially, and mentally.
I used to think poorly upon people who move so quickly into another relationship so soon after a divorce. Not anymore. Because who am I to judge? Especially since I know nothing of what went on in their marriage. No one does. And I have also discovered that those who are so quickly to judge another person’s marriage or relationship are suffering in their own marriage. I know this, because I was one of “those” people.
