Sometimes, Divorce happens. It’s a fact of life. This letter is written by a good friend of mine. Three months ago, her husband of 8 years left her. He claims it was because he was unhappy, that he no longer loved her. The girl on the side he was seeing had nothing to do with it, of course. His ex-girlfriend… from when he was 15. Yes, you read that right. See, this man, if he can even be called that, left his wife of 8 years and two beautiful girls for another woman. When did he do this? Why two weeks before Christmas.

For as long as I can remember, her husband, whom we shall go DB, has been a man of control. Things were done his way, because his way was best. Everyone else fell in line beside him. This is one of the many reasons he and I never saw eye to eye. In fact, frequently I contemplated stabbing him in the eye. To help my friend vent her feelings, and set the record straight, we have decided to post her letter here. She is the author over at Thoughts of A Reluctant Housewife. 

“Okay… take a deep breath. One… Two… Three. You are going to be fine, just get up and go.”

This may sound like someone steps away from tackling their fear of heights by plummeting to the ground attached to a bungee cord. Or perhaps the internal pep talk of someone about to make an important decision that could shape their life. But it is not. This is what I tell myself every morning, and sometimes even in the afternoon. You are going to be fine.

See, 15 weeks ago, my husband left me. Not just me, but my two daughters as well. Since then, I have made tremendous progress. I am well on my way to healing, and moving past the hurt. I know that I am better off without him. But that doesn’t mean dealing with everyday life is easy.

To give you some background, I thought I had a great marriage. In December, I had gone to Disney World with my parents and kids. My husband had gone to meet an ex-girlfriend for coffee, which he told me about. I did not think anything of it. We have been together for 12 years, and he dated this woman very briefly at the age of 15. I stress the very briefly part. While he was out with her, apparently he realized that he had feelings for her. So in his impossibly thick skull, this meant he could not possibly love me. So he told me he wanted to end it. Over the phone. He ended our 8 year marriage after a supposed 1 date with an ex from his childhood over the phone while I was in Disney with our kids. And now, 15 weeks after he declared he wanted a divorce, he is moving in with the other woman and her daughter to a place over an hour away from where I, and our children live. He has elected to only see his daughters 4 days a month. It was his choice.

That means I have primary custody of our two little girls. Their care is 100% on me. Shortly after he moved out, he took a month off from the girls. He was “too stressed” to take them. HE was to stressed? Before he left, I was a stay at home mom, which was a mutual decision. But when he left, it became a reality that after 6 years, I would need to re-enter the work force. Luckily, I was able to get a job as a florist, a job I had been doing before becoming a stay at home mom. However the transition was very difficult. So I started a new job, which I could only do part-time, and became sole caretaker of my children in the span of 3 weeks, and he takes a month off because he is stressed?

Through this all, DB assumes the only reason I am upset about his actions is because of my own feelings for him. Let me assure you, I do not want him back. I cannot begin to explain the feeling of disgust I have for him. What pisses me off is his disregard for our children, my children. He hasn’t seen them in weeks, and has scarcely spoken to them on the phone. And the first time they saw him in a month, he introduced them to his new family, without any regard for how they were doing to all these radical changes. 

If you were to ask my ex, he would claim I have it easy. He would claim that I receive child support, that it is more than enough. It is not. Nor does it make up for his absence in his children’s lives. What about when they are sick? Who is the one leaving work and picking them up? I am. Who is the one tucking them in at night, giving them baths, caring for their hurts and their boo boos? I am.

So yes, every morning I tell myself that I can do it. That I will make it. That I will be okay. I will let him concentrate on building his new family, while I work on gluing back the pieces to my own. Although we may have some cracks and chips, I know that my girls will be okay. My new family of three, we will be okay.

– M

Want to see more from Megan? Follow her blog, Thoughts of a Reluctant Housewife.