Eight years ago, I found myself unceremoniously thrust into the Divorce Club, and trust me, I wasn’t exactly eager to join. I often joke that I would have happily stayed married if it weren’t for my ex and his new girlfriend, but depending on the crowd, those jokes either elicit knowing laughter or awkward silence.
The journey since has been fraught with challenges. After being a stay-at-home mom for over a decade, finding a job wasn’t easy. The financial repercussions were severe. I battled for child support for five long years, losing my house, my credit, and a significant part of my sanity along the way. Foreclosure and bankruptcy might seem like trials that build character, but believe me, they are anything but fun. The emotional toll was equally taxing. Juggling the needs of four kids while trying to maintain stability proved to be a monumental task. An ex-husband who appeared in their lives like a whirlwind, causing chaos with his sporadic visits, didn’t help matters.
Yet, somehow, we persevered. The kids are thriving: two in college and two in high school, blossoming into wonderful individuals who fill me with pride. As for me, I’ve put in the hard work to create a safe environment for us. I frequently write about divorce, and many people seek my guidance, hoping to find solace and reassurance that they too can rise above the pain, humiliation, and sadness that often accompany separation.
I owe those individuals an apology.
You see, I’m always the one waving the banner, shouting about survival, forgiveness, and the possibility of moving on. I’ve been known to respond to heartfelt pleas with empowering reassurances like, “You’ve got this!” or “Yes, it’s painful now, but you will emerge even stronger!” I even boast about how well parallel parenting has worked for me, claiming that pretending my ex doesn’t exist has made everything peachy.
Well, here’s the truth: I wasn’t being entirely honest. A couple of weeks ago, I unexpectedly encountered my ex, and I didn’t handle it with the grace of someone who has fully healed.
Picture this: three nights a week, I work late at our elementary school, which offers before and after-school childcare. I also oversee the gymnasium, hosting various Park and Rec activities. On that particular evening, while I was busy with my tasks—making copies, organizing paperwork, and entering data—I saw someone waiting at the door. I rushed over to let them in, only to discover it was my ex, accompanied by his young child, a little one he shares with his current wife.
I froze, as if I had turned into a popsicle. Our eyes met; his expression mirrored shock and disbelief. My initial reaction? A deer-in-headlights stare that could only be described as the face of someone who had just stepped in dog poop—barefoot.
He glanced at his child, likely ensuring my expression hadn’t scorched the little one, and then looked back at me. As we stood there, silence enveloped the space. I could have chosen to be civil—“Hey there, how’s it going?” or even “Fancy meeting you here!”—but maturity escaped me. Instead, I made a face, an involuntary reaction that caught me off guard.
After he left, I felt a wave of emotion wash over me—shaking hands, a hint of nausea, and an overwhelming sense of shame. Shame for not merely saying hello, for feeling inadequate next to a seemingly happy family dynamic. It was a stark reminder that, despite my proclamations of strength, I still had a long way to go.
As I drove home, I berated myself. I wrestled with feelings of anger towards him and disappointment in myself. Once home, I found solace in the company of my best friend, who lent an ear as I poured out my heart. I made a martini and sat on my porch, allowing the tears to flow.
So much for “moving on,” right? After that encounter, I realized a few things. First, the idea of parallel parenting may not be as effective as I claimed. Regular interactions could help me process these feelings better. Secondly, I need to be honest with those who come to me for advice—healing isn’t a straight path, and I’m still navigating through it. Lastly, I learned that it’s okay to struggle and that self-forgiveness is vital. As I often tell women just beginning their journey, mistakes are part of the process.
We will all be okay in the end. And now that I’ve faced the reality of my emotions, it’s time to retire that embarrassing face.
If you found this relatable, check out our other posts regarding home insemination at Intracervical Insemination. For more guidance on artificial insemination, visit Make a Mom. Additionally, for comprehensive information on pregnancy and home insemination, News Medical is an excellent resource.
Summary
In a candid reflection, a woman recounts her unexpected encounter with her ex-husband, revealing the emotional complexities and challenges that continue to linger after divorce. Despite her public persona of strength and resilience, she acknowledges her vulnerability and the ongoing journey of healing and self-forgiveness.