Well, it finally, FINALLY happened - yesterday, I dragged my flu-ridden body down to my mail box and, lo-and-behold, my divorce order was sitting in my cubby-hole. I've been waiting for it for what seemed forever - the para-legal said I'd have the order in three to four weeks which turned into five and a half weeks. Yes, I was counting days.The title of this blog came from a fridge magnet that a friend of mine gave to me a few years ago before I decided to divorce my husband. Hmmmm. Apparently she knew before I did. LOL. My friend knows me pretty well, I'd say.
It was not an easy marriage, not even in the beginning, but like so many other people, I thought I could make it work. I made a vow to this man, which I had every intention of keeping. During the ten years we were married, the marriage deteriorated to the point where we could barely tolerate each other. It's amazing that something that started out with such hope and promise swirled down the toilet with such stunning speed. Counseling didn't save the marriage - it just clarified what I needed to do for me, in the end.
I can honestly say now that I should have left the marriage three weeks after we were married. Something happened before the marriage that I did not find out about until after the marriage. I thought I could forgive and forget, but I couldn't. I know now that I never really trusted him again. But at three weeks into marriage, the thought of divorce seemed outrageous. All that money, all that fuss, all those people who saw us take marriage vows. And I didn't want to fail in such a spectacular way - I mean, who gets divorced after three weeks unless you're a screwed up Hollywood-type?
If I had been more pragmatic and more realistic, I would have left three weeks into the marriage. I should have known myself better. I should have known that I couldn't forgive this type of betrayal. I should have tossed him out the door and let his butt bounce off the curb. Shoulda, woulda, coulda. I can do nothing about it now. I have done the only thing I could - I divorced him. I have closed, finally, the door to that miserable period of my life.
My reaction yesterday, holding the divorce order, ran the gambit from a very few tears for what had been lost to an overwhelmingly immense sense of relief. I was OUT. It was finally OVER. And now, I have my whole life ahead of me to do with as I please.
I am myself again.
Hi, my name is Brooke. I'm pleased to meet you.
6 comments:
Congratulations on your bravery it's never easy to have to let go and start over. Hi Brooke welcome to the start of a great new life.
Don't feel bad, I think many women do this to themselves. I lived with a liar and cheater for 14 years, married him a year in knowing he flirted outrageously, and he cheated three months after our rushed wedding. But, as women, we make so many sacrifices. We give so much of ourselves that it's hard to give up and walk away from something and someone that we loved, someone that we cried for, and sometimes cried with.
My divorce was devastating. But, I'm so much better now. It took me four years to allow another man into my life. Four years to recover enough to even want a relatonship. Now I know who I am, what I want from a man, and what I will never accept again.
It's a whole new world, Brooke.
Welcome.
When I was growing up, there was a commercial running on tv in an effort to encourage people not to litter. There were numerous scenes of littered highways, waterways, and wooded areas while the unseen announcer extolled the beautiful and valuable aspects of America. In the closing scene, a car speeds by and throws trash near the feet of an American Indian. As the camera pans from the feet of the Indian upward, we get a close-up of his face and we see a tear falling down his cheek.
The message stays with me to this day: the trash was not problematic because it couldn't be cleaned up, indeed, in the commercial, the Indian stooped and picked it up. Rather,it spoke of a deeper pain; it was symbolic of a blindness, insensitivity, and patent disregard of the value and beauty of all that America means; all of which the Indian could see, feel, and share; his love for the land was both deep and profound, embracing even his own view of himself. The littering was disrespecting him, so closely aligned was he with the object of his love.
Today I read your blog with such a tear.
It has been said that our relationships are for a reason, a season, or life; judging by what I've read on your blogs so far, you are very likely much more valued and appreciated than you suspect.
That said, however, forgiveness is forgetfulness; and it is our ability to see ourselves in the mistakes that others make that eventually teaches us how to develop the habit of love; and this is not to say that there is never a justification for changing the terms of a relationship, indeed, based on what you have said, I would agree that you do have those grounds. But, going forward, forgiveness of oneself is paramount; the time already spent must be seen as invested and as in preparation for the very near happiness. It must not be allowed to infect. Don't surround yourself with reminders of what you don't want in a relationship, but with tender whispers of what you do want--love is speaking to you, even now.
Hi Brooke,
Thank you for a fine piece of very candid and intense writing.
All the very best for many bright new possibilities and as much publishing success as you care to dream of, from now on.
Thanks to all for the supportive comments. I appreciate your thoughtfulness more than you know. I have, btw, dumped my prophetic fridge magnetic into the trash. It was the last thing I had of that period. Everything else was left behind or given away. No more reminders of past regrets. :))
I just checked the date on my first post named "A New Start" - the date was February 13, 2008. This current post is dated February 13, 2009. It wasn't done on purpose. How odd, almost spooky. Maybe there is something out there! :))
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