There is something about organizing thoughts on paper that cleanses me. The process of releasing those emotions from my soul to the page affords me the chance to let them go and look to the future once again. Writing has provided me with solitude when faced with the chaos that life sometimes brings. One of the things I’ve realized about myself is that after moving through one of life’s storms, after the adversity has cleared, and it’s time to assess the damage, to gather the resources needed to rebuild that part of my life that’s been destroyed, that I am a different person because of it all. Part of who I was before going through one of my life’s punctuation marks has been stripped away, left behind on those pages, and something new has taken hold. A better version of myself.
My divorce was one such punctuation in my life. Recalling when I first consciously realized our marriage was in trouble. It was Father’s Day, 2019. We had just had a great day hiking with some of the kiddos, and we were relaxing in the sunroom. She gave me a Father’s Day card, and as I read it, I knew something was off, so I asked her what was wrong. Her response to my question is burned into my memory, burned into my bones, burned into my life’s story. Her response, “you’re the best man that I know, and I love you, but I’m in love with someone else. I want a divorce” echoed through my mind like a nightmare. And in that moment tears started to stream down my face. It felt like they didn’t stop for months.
Honestly, I thought we had a good marriage. I mean, I think people tend to fall into a routine sometimes but overall, your content and life is good. Honestly, I was blindsided in that moment, and regardless of what I had thought, I had just lost 20 years, and I felt unequivocally betrayed. We would never really talk again after that one- or two-minute conversation, unless it was regarding the kids. There was a lot that I never received closure on, and during that time in my life it was all tearing me apart. As a result, I made the divorce way harder than it needed to be. I did not close that chapter of my life with grace.
I spent the better part of two years unpacking our relationship repeatedly trying to make sense of it all. Looking for clues as to what I missed, and along the way asking myself a lot of tough questions. Questions like, who was I in the relationship, and who do I want to be in my future relationships? What can I own that attributed to how she may have felt? What did I see that I didn’t want to pay attention to? What do I wish I would have said less of, and what do I wish I would have said more of? And the questions persisted.
Looking back on that day, I prefer to believe that she did not drop that on Father’s Day out of malice or malevolence. I tell myself it’s simply when she finally found her voice, and the courage to use it. I took her silence in the relationship as happiness, or at least contentedness. You see, people are not able to give what it is that they do not possess, and she was never a big communicator. I failed to check in on her silence, even though I know that she has always held a lot of things in. Maybe I was busy building a life for her and forgot to build a life with her?
It took a bit for me to move my focus away from what she did or didn’t do in our marriage and focus on what I could have done or should have done differently. And then finally, to focus on the future once again, and move forward. We fight to hold on and we fight to let go. By God’s grace, I was able to move through this changing life event and learn lessons along the way. Releasing the pain, and bitterness once again to the pages of a journal and turning forward to what adventures life has in-store.
To steal a few lines from the show Ted Lasso, “Its funny to think about the things in your life that can make you cry just knowing that they existed… and then they become the same thing that make you cry knowing that they’re now gone. I think those things come into our lives… to help us get from one place to a better one.”
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My Open Letter To my Ex-Wife
That day in April, when my eyes first met yours, and all the moments and days that followed, you were my everything. It was an unconditional love. And regardless of the difficulty encountered, I always tried to give you the world.
You were my “home”.
And together we would go on to slay dragons, make love, and babies, and make a life too. But somewhere along the way I lost you. It was subtle, I guess. And I didn’t recognize the hollow space in between until the end, when you finally found your voice.
The little things - - there is nothing bigger, is there.
I am sorry that I missed the moments when we drifted. That I failed to hold up how much I loved and cherished you in a way for you to truly see it. And I am sorry for how I handled the divorce. For a time, I didn’t know how to let go. The weight of my love for you crushed me, and I wanted to scorch the earth; to breathe fire. You betrayed me, and though differently, perhaps I betrayed you too.
I forgive you. I forgive me.
Thank you for sharing part of your life with me, for being my everything for 20 years, and finally, for the lessons. These last years I’ve been able to unpack and let go of betrayal and find my peace. Some say that true love lasts a lifetime, and though I have let you go, I will always have love for you.
Love is always a choice.
May he bring you happiness and tea. Buy you a second pair of your favorite flip flops so you never go without them (and then perhaps a third). May he show you small signs of affection at ordinary moments simply because he adores you in all the ways one can, and calm your soul when storms come your way. And finally, may you feel about him, the way that I always felt about you.
I hope you've finally found your “home” too.