My friends call me
"Divorce Poster Child". At age of 20 I was married, and by 22 I had our first child. My husband was away at work every weekday, so it was just myself and baby, keeping each other company from seven in morning, until five thirty in evening, every weekday. Eventually (7 years later), my husband and I found ourselves with three children, and life was extremely hectic, with both of us now working in same industry. We worked for same company (his company), and he was still away at work every day, while I managed to work from home for his company, and took care of house and kids.
We worked apart, as do most couples, for duration of our marriage, and our relationship got to point where, when we were together, we had very little to talk about besides kids, and work. Eventually, there was even less to talk about, because it would seem that my ex-husband to be, was getting more and more distant. I sensed distance, and sat him down and had following conversation with him, "If you're feeling like you want to be a single man, and you want to be doing things that your single friends do, please do me a favor; don't go behind my back, and sneak around because you want to be with someone else. Don't let me do all of detective work that I see those poor women on T.V. having to go through before finding out that their husbands are cheating on them. You know me better than that. If that's what you want, then go. Let's cut our losses now, and do it amicably." To which he replied, "I would NEVER do that! I don't want to be single. I love you guys. What would make you say that??"
Apparently, at about same time that we had that conversation, my ex-husband was slowly and quietly developing younger woman syndrome, and eventually decided that he actually would rather be a single man (and detective work that I mentioned in our conversation? I did it all). So, to make a very long story, somewhat shorter, I wasn't about to leave home that I raised my children in, so I told him, "There's door. See ya!" (That's Coles' notes version.)
We've been divorced for four and a half years now. I went through many phases. The first was definitely blinding anger, followed closely (actually overlapped) by betrayal, which came before overwhelming sadness and feelings of failure, which were replaced by apprehension. Apprehension stepped aside to welcome self-pity. Major self pity. But self-pity was quickly replaced by revenge. I went on a spending spree, maxxing out his credit card twice (he was not happy, but oh well ). Each stage came with it's own set of ups and downs. I was beset by everything from uncontrollable crying, to unexplainable joy, to periods of quiet reflection.
