tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43675359216664543062024-02-08T08:23:04.349-08:00ElleJay, Starting OverSurviving Separation | Raising Children | A New Life | A New IdentityAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14894276771743412073noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4367535921666454306.post-70989843019984820772014-03-22T20:13:00.003-07:002014-03-22T20:17:31.309-07:00In the Interim<div class="MsoNormal">
It has been a few weeks now with very limited contact from
Darren. I had asked for this break and he agreed – a big surprise, given his
persistence over the past six months. I think (hope) Darren is coming to terms
with the reality of our separation and is now using this time to focus on
rebuilding his life, just as I am trying to do.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But this feels like the calm before the storm. There is
still a lot to sort out between us. There is still a lot that’s in limbo. Major
decisions regarding our children won’t be made until Darren starts working
again. Given his line of work, he could be doing anything from a nine-to-five
job, to a shift job out of town, to a combination of office and field work.
This will greatly impact the type of child custody arrangement we will have for
the long-run. It will also impact child support, an issue I expect will be very
sensitive and cause some major tension between us.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I know that Darren wants to have a 50/50 custody
arrangement. I have mixed feelings about this, at least in the short-run. On
one hand, I feel so strongly about my children having a close relationship with
their father. The more time they spend with him, the better for them. On the
other hand, I feel they are so young right now – just a preschooler and a
toddler – and they've only known the life of being with me every day and every
night. They’re not even in school yet. It’s a lot for them to go back and
fourth between two homes at such a young age. For the next few years, I’d
prefer to continue to have majority custody. Darren tells me that this custody problem
is the result of my decision, that our children will pay the price. It’s
because of me that they have to live in two homes now. But I am letting go of
the guilt he has been dishing out on me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Right now, we have settled into a routine where the girls
are with Darren from Friday morning until Sunday evening. Two nights and nearly
three days away from me. It’s hard, but I think I would be devastated to go a
full week at a time without seeing my girls, so this arrangement is a relatively
good deal. And there are some definite benefits, things I have hardly
experienced in nearly four years. For one, I get two nights of uninterrupted
sleep. I have joined a gym and am regularly getting exercise again. I am also
enjoying the occasional night out with girlfriends. On top of that, I have time
to study to maintain my professional certification as well as prepare for my move.
Although my life now has been compartmentalized into days with my children and
days without them, I am finally getting a taste of balance again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But there are some disadvantages too, perhaps a glimpse into
what the long-term challenges of co-parenting could look like for us. Birthday
parties, sports events, and other opportunities for the girls are popping up on
the weekends and as it stands now, they could be missing out on a lot of those things
because I won’t be with them. We haven’t sorted out how we’ll handle these
events, but for now, we’re taking it week by week, making individual decisions
about the girls as we have them. I hate not knowing what my girls are doing,
where they’re going, or how they’re feeling. All I can do is trust that Darren
is doing the best job he can to make them feel loved and happy. Fortunately, I
believe he is.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14894276771743412073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4367535921666454306.post-71924175450965704842014-03-03T00:10:00.001-08:002014-03-04T22:20:20.408-08:00HomeDarren and I were renting a house when we first separated. We had only been living in this city for a year and we were getting to know the different neighbourhoods before deciding where we’d like to raise our children. After having moved nearly a dozen times in my life, I was looking forward to settling down and establishing some roots. What I wasn't looking forward to was settling into a life of feeling stuck in an unhappy relationship.<br />
<br />
Despite the conflict brewing within me, I went along with our plans to buy a house right up to the time I ended our relationship. I don’t fully understand why I did that, knowing that our relationship was still on very rocky grounds after our short separation earlier in the year. I knew I felt that owning a house would help provide some stability for our children, regardless of how things would turn out between Darren and me. Plus, a part of me was also still holding onto the dream of a happy family. It didn't help that Darren was really pushing for a house, doing his best to convince me of the urgency to buy one. Looking back, I know that looking for a house together was a mistake. I regret doing that as it misled Darren into thinking our relationship was more stable than it really was. Luckily, we didn't end up buying one. I can see now how owning a house would have complicated our situation further.<br />
<br />
When I ended our relationship, Darren’s immediate response was to kick me out of our house. He was furious and hostile. It was a shock to me because I was raising our two girls at home while Darren worked out of town for ten days at a time. I didn't understand why he'd expect me to leave, considering he was rarely home and the kids would continue be with me most of the time. In his words, "You're the one leaving the relationship, so YOU leave the home." I was scared. I consulted a lawyer and learned that legally, I didn't have to leave and there could issues with custody if I did. But being in the same house became unbearable and I didn't want our girls to witness the conflict between us. So for several weeks, when Darren came home from his shifts, I would leave our house and stay with a friend or in hotels. It was a very rough period and I hated not knowing where I'd be sleeping next. Sometimes my girls would be with me, other times they’d be with Darren. I knew he loved them to pieces but he wasn't accustomed to managing both of them at once. I worried so much about how they were managing while he was absorbing the shock of our break-up. These nights were the first I had ever spent away from my two girls and it was excruciating. I didn't know how they were feeling or what they were doing. I was certain they were crying for me and I wondered how he was comforting them or what he was saying. Helpless and with nothing else I could do, I halfheartedly looked for a new place to live.<br />
<br />
Then one day, Darren had a sudden change of heart. He told me he was buying a house nearby and that I could stay in the rental. I was so relieved not to be uprooting my children and scrambling for a new place to live. I agreed to pay Darren some money so that he would take only his personal possessions and furnish his new home from scratch. This way we would avoid dividing up household items and the girls wouldn't see things disappear around them. This was our first big step of separation. Darren’s decision to purchase his own house was surprising and impulsive, but at the time, I felt it was the best way to go in our situation.<br />
<br />
In May, I will move into a new home. My home. No more renting, no more moving. I can’t wait create a real, stable home for myself and my girls. I look forward to starting from scratch and doing simple things like putting up pictures, something I hadn't done in years. I want to create a cozy, personal home that my girls will love just as much as me. The house is located walking distance from Darren, in a wonderful, family oriented community. Although our girls will have two homes, it is my hope that they’ll grow up here in just one neighbourhood, in one school and with one set of friends that they can see anytime. When they're older, they could walk back and fourth between houses. I know I'm getting ahead of myself, but the idea that we can mitigate a lot of the stresses of co-parenting, simply by living close by, is giving me more hope for a happy future for our girls. A lot can and will happen in the next few years, but as far as living arrangements go, I think we’re off to a good start.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14894276771743412073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4367535921666454306.post-12994549921556201662014-02-26T23:21:00.001-08:002014-03-01T17:21:16.900-08:00Doubt & ClarityMy divorce coach tells me that having doubts is normal. Even after the fact, it’s normal to second-guess the decision to leave a marriage – especially when children are involved. It’s normal to question your feelings about the situation when so many things are happening at once and the future unknowns are daunting. Even when your heart is no longer in the relationship, your mind can’t stop running in circles.<br />
<br />
This is exactly what has been happening with me over the past several weeks. At times, the anxiety has crippled me. Rather than be productive in rebuilding my life and moving on, I have been feeling like I couldn't move one way or another. All I could do was think. And think. And think. Did I make the right decision? Should I go back for the sake of my children, even if it means being unhappy and unfulfilled in my relationship? Do I trust Darren’s intentions? How much can two people really change? How will my children suffer from this over the long-run? When they're older, will they resent me for this decision? Will I ever be able to retire?<br />
<br />
These are questions that have gone through my mind a million times. Had Darren remained the “same” as he was over the course of our relationship, I wouldn't have second-guessed things nearly as often. But he has changed for the better. A softer, kinder side to him is emerging. He's actively listening to what I'm saying, asking questions and encouraging discussion. Showing respect. This change, plus his persistence over the past few months, has caused this doubt in me to resurface.<br />
<br />
Darren is convinced our relationship won’t ever go back to what it was in the past. If we stay together as a family, he sees a bright, loving, happy future together – for us and our children. He will do whatever it takes to make me happy, to make our relationship work. But if we continue down the path of separation, then Darren illustrates a horrible future of loss and limitations for our children and for us as co-parents. Our girls will be average, not exceptional, because we won't be able to provide them with the support and opportunities that in-tact families with two incomes can afford. They will feel like packages, being sent back and fourth from his house to mine. They'll be unhappy and emotionally dysfunctional because of this lack of stability. This picture is ultimately what sends my brain into overdrive, triggers my anxiety, and pushes me to the brink of surrender. But then I stop. I breath. And I think again. Beneath all of his new behaviour – the compliments, the flowers, the focused attention on my words, restraint in his reactions when we talk – I can see now that he is still implementing his usual tactics to gain control of me and our situation: persuasion, criticism, and guilt.<br />
<br />
Two things keep holding me back from returning to Darren: gut instinct and desire. My gut tells me that most of the detrimental behaviour we<i> both</i> exhibited still exists within us and would resurface if we stayed together. Even when I talk to him now, I still find myself falling into my old patterns – putting his needs before mine, submitting to his views, feeling incompetent, having self-doubt. Only time and distance from Darren will help me rebuild my confidence and learn how to function in a healthy relationship. As for desire, I simply no longer want to be with Darren, to share the intimate parts of my body and mind with him. I want to save myself for that someone who will truly appreciate my body and respect my mind.<br />
<br />
Despite how much our separation will uproot our lives, impact us financially, and change the picture of family for our children forever, being a single is the more desirable path. My children will benefit from a confident, happy mom who can still show them love, compassion, strength, and perseverance. I can’t take the risk of reliving the hurt and the repression I felt my relationship, and more importantly, I won't risk putting my children through another horrible separation.<br />
<br />
Those in my support circle have been pointing out Darren's behaviour for quite some time, yet in true form, I have been defending his position and putting the blame on myself instead. And as I watch my savings dwindle, I have been allowing Darren to drag out our separation for six moths without providing any financial support for the girls or agreeing to proceed with the other formalities. We have been living week by week, in limbo, neither of us able to really move forward.<br />
<br />
This week, I finally reached my limit. Something within me snapped. It's like a cloud has lifted and I see things more clearly now. I am finally ready to let go of the guilt and uncertainty and focus on the positives and the opportunities. I am letting go of feeling like a failure for not being able to handle this on my own, and I'm willingly accepting the love and support my friends and family are offering. I know I can still provide a loving, happy upbringing for my children – they won't be ruined because of this. I know that I will work things out financially in the long run, too. I'm smart, educated, and had a successful career. I am ready to take control, to start over, and build a good life for my girls and me.<br />
<br />
And so begins the next phase of separation: establishing a parenting plan, child custody, and child support. This is not going to be easy. I don’t expect Darren to be a willing participant in these discussions, but I’m hoping for the best. I’ll do everything in my power to keep things respectful and fair, in the hopes we can build a strong relationship as co-parents and make decisions together that are in the best interest of our sweet, little girls. I hope Darren will do the same.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14894276771743412073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4367535921666454306.post-81014526918872682132014-02-18T21:46:00.000-08:002014-03-09T14:46:15.166-07:00Looking Back<div class="MsoNormal">
Leading up to my decision to separate, I thought I fully understood
why my relationship with Darren had failed. But there was so much that went
unspoken between him and me that I really didn't see the full picture. It
wasn't until after our break-up that the full details emerged. Darren and I have
since engaged in countless hours of discussions over the phone, in person, and
through counselling – all to help him better understand what brought us to this
point. At first, the reasons were obvious to me. But over time I have also learned
that things weren't so simple.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<h3>
The big decision</h3>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In my relationship with Darren, there was no adultery. There
was no physical abuse, addiction, workaholism, or even a case of a spouse who
sat on the couch all day and refused to contribute to the household or help
with the kids. Darren was even open to counselling. So why on earth would I
leave the father of my children and break up my family?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It took me two years to come to this decision but the seed
was planted well before then – possibly even since the beginning of our
relationship. It was by far the most stressful and emotionally painful decision
of my life because I knew that my sweet, innocent children’s lives would
forever be changed and they’d never again experience a “normal” family life.
The thoughts of parenting schedules and many missed moments made me nauseous,
especially when thinking from my children’s perspectives. For that reason, I
wavered… and wavered… and wavered. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I thought about being out of my relationship nearly every
day and dreamt of being with someone who made me feel loved, understood, and
appreciated. Often I would just dream of being a single mom, trading my
relationship stressors for financial stressors, but still feeling happier and
free to be me. But in the next moment I would question my competence and
whether I was crazy for wanting to give up what I had (and would continue to
have) – a spouse who was committed to the family unit, a nice home in a good
neighbourhood, financial stability, the freedom to be a stay-at-home mom, and
the many other advantages of being part of an intact family. I struggled over
choosing what I thought was best for me versus what was best for my children. Book
after book warned me to suck it up; that the impact of splitting up would cause
my kids to have permanent attachment issues and they’d likely experience
divorce as adults themselves. Meanwhile, my closest confidantes posed another
perspective: staying in the relationship would also impact my children as
they’d grow up with a depressed mother and an emotionally distant father; they’d
have a front-row view of a dysfunctional relationship. Would that be any
better? Improving my relationship with Darren was no longer an option – Darren
wouldn't budge and I had tried (and failed) to change myself for him so many times;
I simply lost the desire to try again. So I felt trapped in a no-win situation;
regardless of the decision I made, someone in my family would suffer for a very
long time. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<h3>
A look at the issues</h3>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I remained unsatisfied in my relationship for several years
because I hoped that one day, Darren would relax his view of our relationship
and finally accept me for me. Then we could build a happy life together. I also
thought I could become that person he wanted me to be, because that person
seemed to be much stronger and more desirable than the person I was (and still
am). I believed in this idea enough to plan a future and have two children with
Darren. I didn't think we’d ever have a fairy-tale marriage, full of love and
romance – that dream had long since expired. My expectations were much simpler.
I just wanted a stable, functional relationship based on mutual respect. With a
strong foundation in place, I knew I could handle the ups and downs that any
relationship can experience. I was even prepared to forego ever experiencing
passion and desire or a deep sense of love and connection – things the two of
us never really shared together. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I tried very hard to do my part in building this
foundation. I gave Darren my love, respect, and trust. I was by his side through
many challenging periods with his health, education, and career. I supported his
dreams and goals and tried my best to understand and accept his views and opinions
that were different from mine. I stood by him during his conflicts with my
family (though he disagrees), his co-workers, and our friends. I gave Darren
space when he needed it and all the time he wanted for rest, exercise, and
hobbies. I treated him very well, doing everything I imagined a good wife
should do for her husband. I thought that by doing all of this for Darren, he’d
show me love, respect, and appreciation in return. But it wasn't enough.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Something big was missing in this picture. Me. I did
everything I could for Darren without asking for anything in return. I didn't
assert my needs. I didn't stand for my values. Instead, I let Darren shape our
relationship and set the path for our future. I put my own needs aside in order
to support his needs, believing that’s what love is supposed to look like. Darren
didn't return the love, respect, or appreciation I so very much desired. Deep
within me, the hurt was building up. But on the surface, I didn't feel
deserving of his love because Darren had repeatedly pointed out the areas where
I needed improvement. I had tried many times over the years to become a person
who takes initiative, is assertive, disciplined, and in top physical shape. In
my darkest moments, I truly believed I was a very flawed person and I wasn't
deserving of his love.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<h3>
Why did we behave this way?</h3>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I can see now how our individual pasts played a role in our
relationship together. Darren had a difficult upbringing that shaped him into a
very self-reliant and assertive person. He didn’t form close bonds or learn
compassion for others. But he certainly learned to survive without relying on
others. He even struggled through a debilitating illness to earn a university
degree and make ends meet, with no one to help him through it. I admired him
for being a survivor and looked up to him for his focus, discipline, and
independent thinking. There is a great deal about his past that explains a lot
to me about his behaviour as an adult, particularly when it comes to interpersonal
relationships.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Meanwhile, I was raised by two parents who worked very
hard to provide a good, stable life for my brothers and me. I felt loved by my
parents but I also was very insecure. I struggled with my weight and I was
extremely shy. I couldn't make a decision to save my life. I eventually learned
to become a chameleon and a people-pleaser; I customized my personality based
on the views and interests of the people around me in order to gain their
acceptance. While I eventually outgrew my shyness and became more confident as
an adult, the underlying need to please remained. By focusing so much on other
people’s needs, I never focused on my own needs. I had no identity, no sense of
self. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One thing I did know is that I never wanted to be the
nagging wife. From what I observed growing up, nagging wives pushed their
husbands away. Men would seem more interested in watching TV alone or spending
time with their buddies than being with their wives and children. I knew I
didn't want that type of relationship, but I also didn't know how to effectively
communicate my needs without being seen as nagging. I realize now that I
couldn't differentiate between nagging and asserting needs – it seemed one and
the same. I thought that meeting Darren’s every want and need would earn me his
love and appreciation, and he would simply reciprocate. It did the opposite.
Darren grew frustrated and resentful from my passive nature and these feelings
translated into daily doses of criticism, snapping, and long periods of
physical and emotional withdrawal. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<h3>
How it all started</h3>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Even before I met Darren, I had never fully understood what
I wanted in a relationship. I didn't know what was important to me to be happy.
I just assumed two people who fell in love would make it work. I had come from
a relationship in which my ex-boyfriend treated me very well, but he was very
sensitive and continually seeking MY approval. I wasn't comfortable in the position
of power, and ironically, I didn't respect him for not being “manly” enough.
Unlike me, he wasn't driven to succeed in his career and he paid no attention
to his unhealthy diet and lifestyle. I was very focused on education and
continual learning, but he wasn't. I wanted to experience new places and make
new friends but he was content with life as it was. He was a very nice man and
my parents liked him a lot, but I knew we had no future together. It took me
three years (nearly the entire relationship) to gather the courage to break up
with him. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A few months later, I met Darren. He was a man who had all
of the qualities that my ex-boyfriend didn't. Darren was driven to learn and
succeed. He was a competitive athlete and very health-focused. We had some
things in common: we were both mature students at university, we both studied
commerce, we had both lived abroad, and we both wanted to move to a bigger city.
Unlike me, he was very decisive and not afraid to stand up for himself. I
admired his strength to be his own person and I thought he could teach me to be
the same. But what I didn't pay attention to were qualities that I’d later
realize were very important to me but were missing: compassion, family values, a
history of close friendships/relationships, and a respect for rules and authority. I
became increasingly unsettled with this and negativity was building inside me,
but I was too afraid to voice my feelings. So I pushed those feelings aside and
focused on all of Darren’s positive qualities instead. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<h3>
The beginning of the end</h3>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Six years into our rocky relationship, just after I became
pregnant with our second daughter, things took a nosedive. At the time, I didn't
understand what was happening or what I could have done to deserve what would
become months of emotional and physical withdrawal. I was lost and miserable. My
coping mechanism was to put on a happy face, focus on the good in our situation,
and direct my love and attention to my toddler and our baby growing in my belly. I walked
on eggshells around Darren and we coexisted in near silence for the majority of
my pregnancy. At some point, I broke down and threatened to leave, but then
Darren agreed to counselling. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was during one of our first sessions that I was
encouraged to reach out to my support network. I had only shared the positive
stories of my relationship with family and friends, intent to convince the
world around me (and myself) that I was happy and had a good life. It took a
great deal of courage, but I did reach out. I shared my story with a close
friend and a co-worker. And for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel
judged or criticized. I felt like I could talk and someone was finally
listening. More importantly, my thoughts and opinions had value and weren't
immediately criticized. A huge weight was lifted off of me and I felt understood
and loved (and even sane!) by people who I knew were pro-relationship yet still
had my best interests in mind. My friends filled my need for an emotional
connection, something for which I yearned from Darren.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This was the launching pad for a major period of growth for
me. I slowly began to realize my worth and see that the source of the problems
in our relationship wasn't just me. I could look in the mirror again and see my
beauty, not just my flaws. Outside of my relationship, I began to blossom. I
was a confident mother, I had lots of friends, and I was excelling in my career.
But in the confines of my relationship with Darren, the changes were much
smaller. I felt stuck, immobile, and unable to break out of the role of a
submissive spouse without a voice in the relationship. It took awhile, but I gradually started to see Darren differently. He was no longer my
superior. I saw a man with many unresolved issues from his past who was
struggling to find his own sense of happiness. I realized he was just as broken
and insecure as me. As this understanding increased my desire to please him and
be with him diminished. How could I be with a man who didn't value what I brought to the table? And one day, I just snapped. It was a true awakening.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<h3>
The aftermath </h3>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the months since we have broken up, Darren has changed
incredibly. Our separation has impacted him like nothing I could have ever
imagined. He hit rock bottom. Shortly after he moved into a new home, he lost
his job and a close relative passed away. Everything in his life was falling
apart. For awhile, I was extremely worried about his well-being. And I struggled
with feelings of extreme guilt and sadness, knowing the man with whom I share
two children was simply lost. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to return to him. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thankfully, he decided to face the situation and rebuild
rather than recoil. He is attending counselling and has taken up reading as
much as he can on relationships. He is embracing his role as a father. Sadly,
it took our break-up for him to acknowledge his behaviour in our relationship. We
have finally addressed our past issues and learned a great deal about each
other in the process. As he says, we reached a much-needed breaking point. He
remains adamant that we can still have a happy life and raise our family together.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Had we had a stronger foundation – a place of genuine
happiness to work our way back to – I think it’s possible we could have worked
through these issues and found happiness together again. But by this point in
time, my perspective on our relationship has changed. I realized that despite
all the things we did together over the years, I was never truly happy or
secure in our relationship. I didn't love or respect myself so I could never
truly love Darren. I think the same could be said for him. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I finally did make the decision to end our
relationship, an incredible weight lifted from me. For weeks afterward, I was
hyper-aware, experiencing the world around me as though it was brand new. I let
myself loose, doing simple things each day that I felt I couldn't do in my
relationship. I became more present with my children, cherishing our time spent
together. I let myself laugh again at silly jokes and cry whenever I felt sad. I
made decisions without fear of judgment. I noticed men looking at me and
reveled in the positive attention. I was allowing myself to be ME for the first
time in years and my confidence was returning by leaps and bounds.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<h3>
Hope for the future</h3>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Despite that, I can’t say that I am actually HAPPY yet. As
time passes, I am still struggling with feelings of guilt and uncertainty. I
hate to think of my children feeling like packages, being shipped back and
fourth between two parents and two homes. The thought of missing big moments in
their lives makes me feel so sad, especially because I have been with them nearly
every day since they were born. Darren is also convinced that he’s a changed
man and that he knows exactly what we need to build a happy life together. He
is so confident of this, that he refuses to accept the end of our relationship.
He wants nothing more than for us to be together again so we can raise our
children to the best possible standard. This promise of a good life and a happy family being
dangled before me has certainly tempted me from time-to-time, but when I think
specifically about what a relationship with Darren could look like, I can’t
bring myself to return. The conflicting feelings are almost enough to drive me
insane.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It has been nearly six months and we have barely scratched
the surface on all of the decisions that will need to be made surrounding
finances and our children. I have a lot of fears around how I’ll be able to
survive financially while still being able to provide the quality of life I
want for my children. I also worry about how Darren and I will manage together
as co-parents and whether or not we will stabilize and be peaceful. I wish I
could work through all of this now so I can move on with living life, but I
know the reality is that this could take a year – or years – to get all sorted
out. I’m trying to keep the fear of the unknown at bay so I can focus on the
things I can control. But it isn't easy. The ride will be very bumpy but I know
things will eventually settle and we will find our peace. Regardless of what
happens, I know my girls will grow up with a loving, confident, and happy mother.
I just hope they’ll be happy, too.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14894276771743412073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4367535921666454306.post-73582779817610159712014-01-25T23:51:00.000-08:002014-02-18T21:51:42.065-08:00And so it begins...2014 is supposed to be a fresh start - a year when I can sort out the mess of my past and begin building a new life for my girls and me. I have all of these grandiose plans to establish a new routine, earn an income again, resume cooking proper meals for myself, exercise for the first time since who knows when, and deal with all of the formalities and legalities of a separation. Most importantly, I want to do anything and everything that will minimize the impact that this horrible life event is having (and will continue to have) on my sweet, innocent, beautiful, perfect little girls.<br />
<br />
Well I can't say that I'm off to a great start so far. Since mid-December, it has been one thing after another. First, the stomach bug (all three of us). Next, a terrible case of the flu (again, all three of us). Then I experienced a strange week of back pain, the chills, and a horrible headache that wouldn't go away with sleep or medication. I am normally very healthy, so these health issues threw me for a loop. It was especially challenging as my girls were experiencing separation anxiety and showing other signs of stress as a result of all the changes that were happening. On top of that, relations with my ex, Darren, weren't going well and emotions were running high. All in all, Christmas was rough. Something I'd rather forget. January is proving to be the same.<br />
<br />
A few days ago I was starting to see the light. I thought we were nearly out of this tumultuous period as my health had improved, the girls were seemingly happy again, and we finally established a predictable schedule with "daddy time." And then, I find out we all have lice. LICE! Nasty, horrible lice. And I have no idea where it was picked up - or when, for that matter. So here I am, on my third weekend alone (my girls are with Darren, and I'm praying he'll be diligent with their lice treatment plan), and instead of being all productive as I had hoped, I'm spending hours online researching these nasty little buggers and praying that we won't become yet another story of a family dealing with recurring lice for weeks, even years. I've been cleaning clothes and linen, vacuuming couches and car seats, sterilizing hair brushes, and trying to comb out my own hair with a lice comb because I no longer have someone here to help me with it and the lice clinic isn't open until Monday. Arrrgh! This is not what I had imagined my life as a single mom would look like.<br />
<br />
It has been nearly five months since I ended my relationship with Darren. We never married so I won't really talk about us as divorced. But we have been together for eight years and share two children, so the emotions and the legal processes aren't much different. In so many ways, I feel like I haven't moved an inch since September, but in others, I've certainly run a marathon. I've got a divorce coach, I'm attending counselling (with and without Darren), I talk to my parents regularly over Skype, and I have a few close friends who are also providing me with much-needed support. I'm doing everything I can to grow and become a better person from this situation, but it isn't easy. I feel that there is still so much pent up inside me and I need to get it out somehow. So that's why I have decided to start this blog. It's therapy for me, to write this all out. And if it somehow helps you too, then great. I have found that reading blogs and stories of others' experiences with separation and being single parents have really helped me to better understand my own experience.<br />
<br />
Here's to a big year of change. It's going to be interesting!<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14894276771743412073noreply@blogger.com0