(I thought for quite some time about whether I should keep this post under my usual lock and key, filtered to only the select few. In the end, I decided it was okay to be public. The only possibly negative thing it says about Jess is that she gave up and I was willing to keep on fighting. And I don't think that's a secret to anyone.)
I've never really been a follower of Astrology — Zodiac, Chinese or otherwise, but, I can't help but recognize the similarities between its description of me and myself.
Emotional and loving. Intuitive and imaginative. Shrewd and cautious. Protective and sympathetic. Changeable and moody. Overemotional and touchy. Clinging and unable to let go.
Divorce is something I am very not okay with. Not in general. Not for my friends. Not for my family. And certainly not for myself. Marriage is a creature unto itself. It requires nurturing, space, love, freedom, dedication, tolerance and work. And in return it provides support, security, freedom, and relief. A very fair trade in my opinion.
Divorce is not something I would have ever chosen for Jess and I. The past 3 years — at least, maybe more — have been very difficult years. Yet, for me, giving up was simply not an option. I put so much time and effort in each and every day to support my family (both chosen and blood), my wife, and my marriage. I spent every day trying to fix what was broken and enjoy what was not. I worked on new methods of communication, new balances of power, and new ways or creating space and providing freedom. When I started seeing a counselor to help reduce my frustrations, we, instead, worked on my marriage because she understood how important it was to me and how those difficulties were the primary source of my frustration. I can't say I did everything right. I can't say I even got close. But I know that I sacrificed more of myself than I probably should have and tried as hard as I could.
I was shocked when I learned that Jess wanted to leave me. Not because I'm the kind of guy that women don't leave. I'm not silly enough to believe that type of person even exists. I was shocked because I had always believed that Jess shared the same dedication to our marriage that I did — and giving up simply wasn't an option. And that, if it was an option for her, at the very least, I would have got some warning that she was considering it before she actually made a decision.
I realize now that the fact that she didn't share that dedication might have been the reason my efforts to fix us never proved to be fruitful. Not that the problems we had were her fault and her fault alone. I'm not saying that at all. It's just that a marriage or partnership of any kind is very much about team-work.
While we're not all the way through this yet, I think I can see the end. It's like we've been swimming upstream in a raging river, climbing rocks, dodging obstacles, and fighting the current. And finally, up ahead I can see a soft, sunny pebble beach.
Giving up has never been an option for me. But if I didn't admit that the idea of having this come to an end was a very peaceful, comforting thought for me I'd be lying. Even under severe torture, at least in theory, suicide isn't an option for me. Even asking for death is asking for too much. My will to survive is too strong. But if I found myself suddenly wounded, bleeding, and knowing that death was rapidly approaching, the peace and quiet and calm that would soon follow would certainly not be unwelcome. I might even die with a smile on my face despite it all.
So, in my true style, I've written all of this to simply say: I'm looking forward to the rest of my life. For the first time in so many years I can see a path that doesn't end in more pain and even greater difficulty. And that brings me more comfort and peace than I can express.
In the end, I have a beautiful daughter. I have amazing friends who love and support me fully and are not afraid to call me out when they see I've done wrong — not because of their agendas, but because of their concern for me and our mutual goals of happiness. And I have a family (both chosen and blood) that cares for me with all of their hearts.
