my life after my divorce

I married him because I loved him. I divorced him because I love myself more. Divorce is such an ugly thing. It’s pretty simple right? You get married because you love someone, you get divorced because don’t love them anymore. When you get married you pick out china and furniture. When you get divorced you fight over who gets the china and furniture.

Divorce doesn’t have to be ugly. Once we knew it was what needed to be done, we sat down and talked about the division of our personal property, child support and visitation. We talked at least weekly before the divorce was actually final. It was reminiscent of our dating days. I actually started to forget why were getting a divorce.

That September day in 2010 was a lot like the day in October 1994. The sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky. It was peaceful. We stood side by side in love with each other, tears in our eyes as we said “I do”. The judge doubted us that day; he looked at me and said he didn’t believe this was what I wanted. I remember looking at the man I was married to and then back at the judge and saying “This has to happen for us. We can’t continue the way we are” The judge sat back in his chair and again looked at me then at my husband, he leaned forward and told us “ I don’t think you are telling me the whole story”. I couldn’t believe it was that obvious. How did the judge know? No, I wasn’t telling the whole truth. We knew the truth, but there was no point in admitting it now. I couldn’t let the judge know, for heaven’s sake he was golfing with my boss last week. No I was keeping this my secret. I was sure he was going deny the divorce. My husband was standing there with a look of terror on his face. He knew I was trying to decide what to say. I looked back at...

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...’t hate him. I just didn’t love and trust him anymore.

After that night I promised myself I would work at being nicer to him. I make a point of asking the girls if they have spoken to him and when they will be going to see him. I reminded him of events that may cause a conflict with his scheduled visitation, and have offered to switch weekends to ensure he has his time with his children.

It’s been three months since that night. I have spoken to him once. I wish I would have been stronger. I allowed the people around me dictate my actions. My children are the ones that suffered the most. They have endured their family being torn apart and forced to pick a side. I can’t undo the damage, but I know I can try harder for the sake of my children. Maybe one day they will forgive me for allowing this happen. I only hope I can forgive myself for the pain I inflicted on them.