I didn't believe in Divorce.
Sure, I was a product of it. Hell, I'd like to think it made my childhood better! For all intents and purposes, my dad became a greater dad for going through it; He poured all of his energy into making memories with us while we were with him. In other words, because of divorce, we took trips to Niagara Falls on the spur of the moment to go see the winter garden. We saw movies, hiked, camped and had more quality time with him because he was making every moment he had with us count. If he had stayed married to my mother, I doubt those things would've happened.
However beneficial it might have been in shaping the dad my father became, divorce brought out the worst in my mother. It showed her for what she was. She fought so hard that sometimes, it seemed she fought against us. She blamed, she accused, she was the victim. All this from someone who initiated the split and dissolution of a marriage. Divorce robbed me of a mother who made me feel safe and cared for. Instead, I felt like a burden to the person who gave me life. In this way, she taught me a great lesson: what not to be. I choose to be thankful for that.
Divorce seemed like it was a white flag for the weak. Maybe because of the impact it had on me as a child. No one likes to think that the people who created them weren't destined to be together unless there are some seriously strained circumstances. In my case, everything seemed idyllic until "the talk"... after that, the world as I knew it shifted poles constantly, and I was always struggling to find my footing.
But I did. I grew up, a little bit rough in spots. I dusted off, shook myself clean and refused to let my parent's decision affect my future. I had a child of my own and fought desperately to keep the relationship that produced said child afloat until one day, I realized the amount of energy I was putting forth trying to fix a relationship that was irreparably broken. Trying to fix it, especially as one sided as the effort was, ended up robbing me of the energy I could spend being the best mother I could to my son. Since I was young when I had him (20), I figured he needed all of my focus on him. So I made a decision and moved back home with my parents.
That year, I grew so much as both a person and a mother. Also, I became a wife.
I took vowes on the day of my grandparent's 50th wedding anniversary to a man whom I thought would be my everything forever more. He loved me and my son with no end, and we loved him back the same way. In this big world, we found each other and we were so happy to start a life together as a family.
I'm ashamed of my divorce.
I'm ashamed that it happened. That I couldn't fix it. I'm ashamed of the reason for it-ashamed that I chose to keep the reasoning behind it private, and that the other party chose to make a reason up and that his attempt to save face attacked my character. I'm ashamed that we ignored issues for so long, that there was such a lack of respect in the end. I'm ashamed that it ripped my son's stepfather, whom he loved dearly, out of his life. I'm ashamed that I picked the wrong person to give myself to, to promise forever with. I'm ashamed I failed.
As much as I hate to admit it, the divorce changed me. My forever disappeared. My foundation was shaken. The person I trusted to never hurt me did exactly what I thought he'd never do, and it was something that had been going on long before the marriage. All of the time we spent together, every free moment of every day, it seemed-and someone could still have a dark side that you'd never know about. How do I know when I can trust someone? How does anybody?!
I don't. I don't think people ever do. But I want to so badly.
As it stands, I'm not sure I'll ever get married again. I miss being a wife and having that dedication, knowing that you have found your person... but I can't stand the thought of loving so much and trusting so implicitly if all it takes is a bunch of paperwork to make it all go away. Marriage isn't what it used to be. Today, we give up and walk away when things seem hopeless and bleak. In my case, my husband wasn't willing to change the one thing that made us irrevocably incompatible. I wish I could've altered my beliefs and changed myself for him but my life took a different path, and it wasn't just me that would be forever afflicted with the knowledge. At some point my little guy would find out as these things beg to be discovered. I refused to make him weather a storm that would have shaken the beliefs I was raising him with. After all, I had my son before I had a husband.
I simply don't believe I'll be able to make a commitment like that to anyone considering I am already 100 percent committed to raising a man.
Thenagain, my son also invites single male WalMart cashiers to dinner with his mom because he wants a family again! Oh boy...
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