Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be writing this article. I mean, I can write about a lot of things and express a lot of emotions, but this, I wasn’t expecting this.
As many of you know, I’m going through a divorce. I never thought I’d be doing that either. The “D” word actually makes my stomach turn to say. It’s a word I would use to describe the tumultuous end to my parent’s marriage, but not my own. Although I can say there’s nothing tumultuous about my relationship with my ex-husband, another word I hate, the “D” word still doesn’t feel normal or like it belongs within 10 feet of me. But ultimately it did. And it still does. And I’m sure it will get easier to say, and be.
But the truth is, I left.
I left the perfect marriage because, well, first of all it wasn’t perfect. So for those who believed it was, I’m sorry to burst your bubble. And for those grieving the loss of “us,” my condolences. Imagine how we feel.
Just because I left, doesn’t mean I wanted to. I had to. It wasn’t a choice. And it sure as hell wasn’t easy. So for those who think I left, moved on without a care and am waving from my high horse, please, get a grip.
I ran into a conflict. One that could not be ignored. One that could not be “fixed” in therapy or in any other way. One that stopped me dead in my tracks and still has me baffled at times.
I’m a monogamist. I have never been a casual dater. I’d been boy crazy as a young teen. I had a high school boyfriend who I was infatuated with for a long time. Then I fell head over heels for my husband. 3 years later we were married. 1 year later we had our first son. 4 years later we had our second son. And in the same year that we celebrated our 10 year wedding anniversary, and 14 years of being together, we were also filing divorce papers.
Because there was this “thing” that plagued my heart and soul for the last several years of my marriage, this question that I thought could never be answered, this mind-fucking tug of war between my heart and my head that ripped me to pieces over and over again. This thing that I couldn’t put my finger on, blindsided me. I was given no warning. It was a reality so far from what I was expecting. It cured the plague, it answered the question, and it put me back together.
I fell in love with a woman.
Before anyone goes labeling me, and placing me in a neat little box to confine and talk about, please beware, I am the last person to care about a damn label. I don’t do well in small confined spaces, and I don’t give a fuck who has what to say about me. That will never stop me from living my life and loving who I love. Maybe it’s my age, my field of work, or my lack of fucks to give, but nope.
Am I gay? Bi-curious? Bisexual? Straight? Confused? Going through a phase? (That’s my favorite.)
I had never looked at another woman in a romantic way. I had never entertained the idea. I have always thought women are beautiful and strong and fearless warriors, but don’t we all? Was I naive? Out of touch with who I really was? Oblivious to my own desires? I would argue against all of those things, but what do I know? I mean, how the hell do I know anything anymore? I thought I knew myself, but that was thrown out the window when I met her.
She was beautiful, kind, sweet, generous, funny, and her positive energy was infectious. But it became more than that. I connected with her on an incredibly deep level. This quest I had been on for most of my late 20s and all of my 30s to find what was missing for me, was exhausting, maddening, and devastating. I was sure there was something wrong with me. I felt misunderstood and undeserving of the life I had because I wasn’t fulfilled. My heart wasn’t whole, and my spirit worked tirelessly to maintain consistency for those around me.
I was sad. Suffering at times. But quietly, because from the outside looking in, this just shouldn’t be how one feels or reacts to such a beautiful life. And I didn’t know what was wrong, and that made it impossible to fix.
But She. She walked into my life, and just fit. As if I’d known her forever, or in another life. As if my quest was for her. As if my uneasiness, my anxiety, and my restlessness had all been heightened because I didn’t have her with me. I had found my peace.
I had no more questions. I had found the answer. And I was sure. I had never been more sure of anything before. But I was married, with the perfect life to the perfect husband with the perfect kids. We had the perfect plans for our perfect future.
But I had to follow my gut, and my heart. And it fucking sucked. It hurt people I love. It shocked people I love. It pushed people away, that I love. It’s sucked the energy out of me for a period of time. It’s riddled my heart for a moment. It’s tested all of my beliefs and expectations of who I am and what I stand for.
It’s been humbling. And I wouldn’t change it.
I don’t know who people will see after reading these words. I don’t know what people will think or say or feel. And that’s ok. I’m at peace with the outcome. Because the outcome is, I am a human being in love with another beautiful human being.
I am happy. I am whole. I am peace. I am love. I am me.