Note: I am not sure that either of my parents reads this with any sort of regularity, but just in case one (or both) decides to take a look at it, I need to let them know up front that it is not meant to be hurtful, and probably none of it comes as a surprise anyway.
For those of you who don’t know, my parents split up last year after 29 and a half years of marriage. Since that time, it seems like Ben and I have been inundated with news concerning couples we know who are struggling. Each of these conversations hurts my heart a little bit more than the one before, and I think I reached my breaking point on Monday night.
Did you hear about Jon and Kate? I knew going into it that the news wasn’t likely to be good, but I hoped and hoped and hoped they would announce to the world that they were shutting down production to focus on saving their marriage. Unfortunately, my fears were confirmed when they announced they were separating.
When the episode ended and it was time to go to bed, I let the dog out and then broke down crying in the kitchen. I’m hoping that if I write some of my thoughts out, maybe I’ll be able to sort through my feelings…and maybe someone somewhere will take something good away from this.
Confession: I am terrified of divorce.
In the past, I was aware of the concept of divorce, but now that I’ve actually seen one up close, I am fearful that it will happen to me. Generally speaking, people don’t go into a marriage with divorce as a planned outcome. I think in most cases, it’s something that happens gradually over an extended period of time. Instead of putting their spouse’s needs first, people shift the focus to themselves. Sometimes it’s justified; sometimes it’s a matter of survival. The problem comes when the root issues are not identified and dealt with openly and by both parties. It’s not overnight, but after some time it begins to take its toll and then one day a spouse decides they just can’t do it anymore and they want out.
The thing that scares me is the gradual progression. I’m afraid I won’t notice and one day I’ll wake up and Ben will be gone. This, in a nutshell, is what I experienced with my parents. One day everything was fine. The next day, one of them left and never came home. For nearly everyone involved, this was our first clue that things were not okay. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that this is true for everyone involved except the other spouse – whom I honestly don’t believe had any idea that the situation was that grave at the time. (Please note that I am not exempting this person from their share of responsibility; I am just saying that I don’t think the communication was there prior to that day and that this person was as surprised as the rest of us.)
Confession: I know that it will get easier as time goes on, but I worry this is going to be something that I deal with for the rest of my life.
Perhaps I should see someone about this, because the last thing I want is for fear resulting from my parents’ divorce to destroy my own marriage.
Confession: I will spend a good portion of the rest of my life battling the thought that on some level, it is my fault.
In my head, I know it’s not. In my heart, I fear it is. It doesn’t matter that my parents have reassured me it’s not my fault; I’ll always wonder what the outcome would have been if I hadn’t spent my childhood teasing one of them about “that kid from high school with the funny name” (because now they are dating that person – did I cause that?) and if I’d mentioned some issues that I saw them dealing with. I know that it wasn’t any of my business to say something, but what if I had? I don’t think anyone else called their attention to it…what if I had? Would they have worked on it? Would they have been happier? Would they still be married?
I feel like I was lackadaisical because – and this is important to note for those of you who are having a hard time understanding why this is difficult for me – I grew up in a house where “divorce is not an option.” For 27 and a half years of my life, I’d been told that it was something I never had to worry about. It is devastating to a child of any age to hear statements like this and then witness a complete about-face.
I have heard (as I alluded to above) that there are some people who feel that enough time has passed and that at this point, I just need to get over it. I’d like to respectfully disagree, and here are some reasons why.
1. Please remember that this all came as quite a shock to me, and despite promises to take things very slowly, to consider all possible outcomes, and to not make decisions about divorcing right away, my parents went from married (by all appearances happily) to divorced in a span of less than six months. In retrospect, I have come to believe that minds were made up from the beginning (or what I perceived as the beginning); it’s just the rest of us weren’t filled in until the end.
2. Please also remember that you got what you wanted – for free – while I paid the price and was left with nothing. It is going to take me some time to be able to deal with this. (And you are not allowed to specify what that time period should be. I have to figure that out on my own.)
3. Please understand that the current situation runs contrary to everything I was taught growing up in my parents’ home. I hold these values because they were the values I was raised to have. I do not appreciate you showing such hostility toward something that was instilled in me by the very person(s) you admire.
4. Part of the reason I continue to struggle with this is that – again, according to the values with which I was raised – I know that I am not the only one affected by this decision; it is something that my daughter will also have to deal with – and her child(ren) as well. In my mind, it takes a lot of selfishness to continue to justify this.
Confession: I am committed to my husband and to our marriage.
I know the statistics. I don’t want to be one. A couple we know told us about a discussion they had early on in their marriage when they were having some problems:
We can be married and happy or we can be married and miserable, but either way, we’re going to be married. We might as well choose to be happy.
That, I feel, is the bottom line. Ben and I are choosing to be happy. Before we were married, we made the commitment to each other that if there is ever an issue we could not solve between the two of us, we’d seek outside help. And, more importantly, we gave each other permission to do so. In the heat of the moment, it is normal to feel like you don’t need help and you can do it on your own, especially when bitterness and resentment are involved. Ben and I have given each other permission to go over each other’s head to get outside help if we feel it is necessary – and we’ve actually done it a couple of times with great success.
Are there going to be hard times? You can bet on it. But I think I need to spend less time worrying about what could go wrong and start focusing on what I can do right. I can put my husband first. I can choose to love him and I can treat him with courtesy and respect. I can offer to pick up a drink for him from Sonic every time I go even though I know he will never take me up on it because there might be one time when he does, and I don’t ever want him to miss out on getting what he wants because I made an assumption instead of asking him.
It’s the little things. If you don’t have the little things, you can’t expect to have something great. I want to have something great.
