My Writing

Sunday, April 17, 2016

From the ashes



At the start of this year, my husband and I hit a wall. It's not that we hadn't seen it coming...quite possibly for years...but at the end of January, he actually came right out and said the words, "I want a divorce." There wasn't a "maybe" attached. No "I think..." Just the worst words a woman who still loves her husband never wants to hear. I...want...a...divorce.

The problem (or maybe the blessing?) - he didn't really want a divorce. He wanted change.

And that is why I'm in this place. That's what's motivating all of the soul-searching. It's not necessarily desperation, though there's definitely a component of that vested in the bud of this slowly blossoming flower I call my marriage.

Every human relationship is different. The reason for them, what we get from them, how we nurture them. They are all different. There are various genres or categories of human connection, and within those, there are societal expectations about how each should be developed and cared for. But we all know that "expectation" is perched high on the pedestal of fallacy. As soon as we expect...those expectations will become surprises or disappointments. Because we're human, after all. And as logical as some try to be, our souls get in the way of our mechanics. What should be isn't always what is. And what is takes precedent over desire. As true as we want something to be, that truth isn't always what we were looking for.

And in my case (as with many), even though my heart (and desire) led me into the arms of my soul-mate, it didn't necessarily equip me to live there. In fact, I'd argue that none of us are born equipped to live in the arms of another. Some of us aren't even equipped to live in our own.

That's what makes marriage such a beautiful and complicated leap of faith. We jump, full of expectations that we either know or don't know we will have to give up, into a world of our own creation.

That's what a relationship is, after all, isn't it? A world we make up? The rules, the styles of communication, a host of shared experience that turn into a history?

I've had to think a lot about that over the past few months. All that history. All those expectations. Communication.

And what did I truly want? Not...what could I live with? But, rather...what could I not live without?

It came down to this. Him.

This is not about co-dependency. This is about a sober choice made in lucidity.

I had to change. I have to evolve. I have to let go of everything I thought marriage should be...to become his wife.


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