Divorce is rarely straightforward, particularly mine after only a four-year marriage filled with various complexities. Throughout the relationship, although I can say we maintained a friendship, I often felt overlooked in multiple ways—never prioritized over social engagements or desires, challenges with family; the list goes on. It rarely is ever just one thing. This isn't a critique of the father of my child; rather an exploration of thoughts and emotions I have suppressed. Truthfully, I neglected my own feelings, which at the end of the day makes it impossible for any partner to genuinely care or see me for who I am.
Despite my realizations, soon after the wedding and becoming pregnant, I began to sense a growing unease. I found myself increasingly viewed as a mere checklist of qualities rather than a cherished partner with feelings that mattered. I found resentment building, I found myself spending more time in a constant state of worry and anxiousness. Despite feeling overlooked and disrespected, I chose to persevere—yes for the sake of our daughter, but also for the family I envisioned building.
Yes, marriages involve mutual responsibility. Was I perfect? No. Was I a good wife? Absolutely. However, his infidelity wasn't an isolated incident but a boundary that had been crossed even before we married. My decision to proceed, despite this awareness, rests solely on me. Deep down, I knew this relationship wasn't quite right—a bit like trying to force a shoe that doesn't fit.
The discovery of his infidelity provided me with a definitive reason to leave, yet I stayed, hoping for a better time to act or more clarity, waiting for me to feel forgiveness that just never came. Many questioned my choice to have another child amidst turmoil, even I questioned my choice. Was it selfish? Perhaps. But without walking in someone’s shoes, living what they live, experiencing their lived experiences, do we hold the right to judge about how we would have done it better?
My decision wasn’t about salvaging a failing marriage but reclaiming a dream amidst internal conflict—a struggle that I feel readers will resonate with in "Memories of Me."
My life then took another heart-wrenching turn for me. I experienced the loss of two pregnancies in succession. The grief I was feeling also forced me to confront truths I had long avoided. It marked a turning point. How much more was I going to give? How much more did I want to lose? A month later, I found myself speaking words that had been forming in my mind: I needed a separation.
In the aftermath, writing became my sanctuary. Poetry allowed me to articulate the depths of my emotions— sorrow, anger, and longing with honesty and vulnerability that I struggled to share in person.
Are we defined by our mistakes, or should we grant ourselves grace during times of emotional turmoil? Navigating life's crossroads demands balancing personal authenticity while safeguarding loved ones from pain. It’s a journey of self-discovery where our choices reflect an our evolving understanding of who we are and what we value. As I move forward, I will continually strive to learn how to make decisions that honor my true self, while minimizing unintended consequences for those I hold dear.
Thank you for reading
Andrea
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