Let’s talk about it … really talk about it. It has been my experience that there is little out there to actually help or make any real contribution to the woman suffering through the pain of divorce. Especially those who didn’t choose it, didn’t want it, and tried with everything they had to fight for it.
That should be enough, we tell ourselves. I can look in the mirror everyday, and in the eyes of my two children, and know without a doubt that I did everything I possibly could to save my marriage and to preserve the life we made for our family. It’s not enough. It doesn’t fill the gaping hole; it doesn’t numb the pain or dispel the loneliness. It does not stop the tears, which seem to have a life of their own. I have been in this long enough to begin to see the hope of a happy life and heard enough stories to know that no matter the circumstances, divorce is brutal. Like being physically ripped in half. Add to that some incredible manipulation and dishonesty … it’s enough to have anyone questioning their own sanity.
I’ll share my story, if for nothing else than to show how many of us, though we feel totally isolated and alone, are in the same boat. The details vary but basically, from what I have seen, the stories are so similar. I was married to the same man for twenty-one years. Life had been good; not perfect, but happy. Two beautiful kids. We had our issues but never problems that were ever discussed—actually, we rarely fought at all. One of our children suffered through treatment for Leukemia. Three years’ worth. As I have come to learn, my husband is one of many who didn’t seem to be able to really handle the rigors of “real life” and decided to throw in the towel a few months before treatment ended. He told me at the time, “I will never be the man to make you happy,” and “I just want to simplify my life.” I know, hold on to your sides—please.
