I've left the redneckyest stuff out of my blogs where I talk about my marriage.
Folks who know me IRL or on the internet (those who know the details) seem evenly divided over whether I'm a great person for how I'm treating my soon-to-be ex or insane for being too nice to him.
I was talking with my counselor yesterday--our last meeting 'cause there's nothing wrong with me I can't handle--and she said I'm being just amazingly mature about everything. I'm certainly being nicer than most women would be, in my position.
Maybe I view it differently than most.
Yeah, there's a lot I could do. I could be a royal bitch. I could have fought this every step of the way. Certainly, I don't need to bend the rules of visitation to accomodate Rob. By no stretch of the imagination is it my responsibility to be his most loyal friend.
I'm twenty-eight years old. A baby compared to a lot of people in this world, yes, but let's review this.
I am 28.
I have been married 9.5 years, even if for nearly a year of that I have been separated.
I have a 6 year old.
I have a 4 year old.
I have a 2 year old.
I'm not being freakishly mature. I'm, to use one of my favorite phrases, putting my big girl panties on and dealing with it. I'm a grownup. I've got kids. What possible purpose would it serve to fight with their father, with the other half of who they are? What possible purpose would it serve to play into his low self-esteem and allow him to convince himself he's useless and we're all better off without him?
It's not the kind of person I want to be, either. I've been very careful to ask myself before I do things, at least for the most part.
Guiding principle of my life: If you'd be embarassed to tell your kids about it, don't do it.
I know a lot of people who are adult children of divorce, and not one of them is happy for it. (Not sayin' they're not out there.) Absent abuse or severe dysfunction, most marriages can be worked on and improved, and once you've got kids that should be the default. Not leaving. It's something my husband agreed upon in principle, but not something he followed through.
Things got tough. He ran. He took one of the most vile things you can do--walking out on a pregnant woman--and made it much worse. He took the kids. Didn't let me see them for a month. Carried on an affair. (Yeah, started before he left, though I don't think physically then.) Taught the kids to call the other woman Mommy.
Still doesn't change me and what I do.
Am I great? Am I footloose & fancy free and happy to be rid of the bastard?
I love him. I always will, in some form or fashion.
Doesn't mean I stop my life in hopes he'll return. Does mean I don't act on my impulse to whap him upside the head with my mother's giganto-Bible when he says stupid shit like "Do you ever get the feeling we're better off apart than we ever would have been together?"
It's a process. I've got goals, & I am slowly figuring out how to make them reality. I just completed my FAFSA on the library computer I'm using, and an application to San Antonio College for the Fall Semester. Pre-nursing.
I'm doing okay. Not good. Not great. Okay.
And that's enough for right now.