My ex husband wasn’t abusive.  He wasn’t unfaithful. And he didn’t steal or  drive us into insurmountable debt.  But he wasn’t present….ever.  When we first got married, he said he worked all the time so that when we had kids he’d be comfortable in his career path.  Then after my son was  born, he had a very important job, that mandated overnight work and often resulted in “emergent” situations.  Plus, I had it handled. Then we moved, so that he could take a new job, one that wouldn’t require him to be at the office so many hours.  Only that didn’t work out, because he started traveling and playing multiple intramural sports.  Then we moved back “home”, so that I could get some help with the kids and he could try again to find a job that didn’t require endless hours at the office.  I moved with the kids alone, for three months, then the job he took required that he travel….100%.  He came home every other weekend to catch up on sleep and do his laundry. I raised the kids, worked full time and got my master’s degree all while he lived in Indianapolis or Houston or Minneapolis. 

All along I made it work.  I made my own family wherever we lived.  I had dinner with my friends multiple times per week.  I’d cook  just so they’d come over and hang out with us.  I found family for us wherever we went.  My daughter grew up for the first 4 years of her live with her father living somewhere else and just visiting.  It was a constant struggle.  But surviving that was not the courageous part.  Deciding to leave, deciding that my kids and I both deserved better was the courageous part. 

I fretted over the relationship not working.  I hated myself for wanting to leave a man who wasn’t abusive or evil in some way.  But I hated being ignored, insignificant and alone.  When he was out of town, he didn’t call or email.  He’d call every couple of days at nearly midnight and try to talk.  (I’m a morning person…and not 12 am morning…so THIS was not working)  I felt unimportant.  I felt like I served purposes for him that were merely secretarial in nature.  We tried to understand each other. We tried talking about how I felt unhappy and alone.  He couldn’t understand that.  His answer was that he was working for all of us to have a roof over our head, etc.  I tried to explain that I’d live with a smaller roof and less stuff, if it meant I had a partner.  We talked at each other a lot.  We didn’t communicated…we didn’t, either one of us, feel loved or respected.  And so, we separated…and two years later, we divorced. 

It was the hardest and best decision I’ve ever had the courage to make.  My kids now spend 50% of their time with their father.  He doesn’t travel except on the days that I have the kids.  He’s made some very significant life changes so that he is available to them.  I can’t say that there isn’t something there that doesn’t hurt.  That it took me saying enough, for him to finally make the needed changes, stings.  But my kids get to grow up with their dad, and for that I am eternally grateful. 

And I, finally have a partner.  Someone who shares the load with me.  Who loves me unconditionally.  Who looks forward to coming home and talking with me every night.  I have someone who wants to provide emotional, physical, social AND economic support.  And if that means we don’t have the HUGEST house or the most toys….we’re okay with that, because we have love and support. 

There are many who think that divorce is a result of being weak or cowardice; even once, that might have been me.  And it’s not what I consider ideal.  I wish that my kids’ Dad and I had made a better team, but I can tell you without a doubt that both he and I are happier.  That my kids are loved beyond their wildest imagination.  And that the courage I had to admit defeat, gave them their father and gave me the chance to know real love.

Join me and the others at Momalom for Five for Ten.