As I sat cross-legged at my kitchen island on a snowy Friday night, I reflected on how the internet was buzzing over a woman who proposed to her boyfriend with a bouquet of Doritos. Meanwhile, I was indulging in those very snacks while my soon-to-be ex-husband, Jason, was embarking on his first date since our separation.
Surprisingly, I felt completely okay with it—more than okay, actually. It’s curious to think about how I can feel so liberated watching the father of my children, the man I spent nearly two decades with, out on a date. It seems wrong, yet it also brings a sense of relief that’s hard to explain. He mentioned the woman’s name, and while I could have easily stalked her online, I opted not to. I didn’t want to spoil my Doritos-infused bliss, and honestly, the idea didn’t even slightly tempt me.
In that moment, I felt a deep contentment. The silence of the house, the snow falling outside, and my favorite snack made for a peaceful setting. I was looking forward to sprawling out in bed, enjoying the luxury of having my space without the sound of Jason’s snoring. It’s a new kind of freedom I hadn’t anticipated.
After two decades of being with a man I once desperately wanted to marry, I’ve come to the realization that our love has transformed. Neither of us holds the feelings that we once did. We’ve reached a point where we can support each other through this transition, even if it means dating other people. Our feelings of liberation appear to be mutual.
I think my affection for Jason has shifted to a more maternal kind of love. He craves the passion and intimacy of a romantic relationship—something I genuinely want for him. If he believes that dating is a natural step in his healing process, I fully support him (though not literally accompanying him on his dates; that would be a bit too much, and I’d probably distract him with my Dorito munching).
We haven’t been intimate in almost a year, and it’s been even longer since I felt the desire to be. We fought tirelessly for six years to mend our relationship, but no amount of effort was enough to piece it back together. The man who once proposed to me has so much to offer, and just because we no longer share a home doesn’t mean our bond is entirely broken—especially when it comes to our kids.
When he asked for advice on what to wear for his date, I gladly offered my thoughts. The day after, he shared bits about her, and I listened with interest. When he mentioned he was also talking to another woman and wanted to avoid monogamy for now, I teased him a bit while reminding him to be upfront with those he dates about where he stands.
Ultimately, I find joy in seeing him happy and progressing in his life. I, too, am moving forward, though my current companion is a bag of Doritos rather than another man. My own “lady workshop” isn’t quite ready for that step yet.
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In conclusion, I’m amazed at how well I’m handling this new chapter. It’s a journey filled with unexpected turns, but embracing this freedom is exhilarating.