divorce

Newly Single…

finger

Well, I did it. After spending the last almost nine years together with my husband (married four of them) I finally admitted to myself yesterday that this entire relationship has been a complete FAKE and removed my wedding band. There are many reasons why a woman chooses to stay in marriages when she’s not happy, and I have mine. A few of those reasons are: (1) I would have felt like a failure; (2) I have two children from previous relationships -yes relationships, with an ‘s’– and I felt like finding a man who accepted a woman with one child is hard enough; finding one to accept a woman with two kiddos was pushing it; (3) for the last eight years, he’s been the father figure for my children, and I would have felt like the wicked witch of the west if I  would have torn the family apart; (4) I hate dating and just didn’t want to start over.

These are a few reasons, while certainly not all of them. It wasn’t a decision I reached over night..it was more like the last two years. I’ve been putting on my fake smile…my game face, the same way I put on my clothes everyday, going out into the world to handle my business, all the while pretending to be a happily married woman. On the inside, I was slowly dying…little by little. The pictures I posted on Facebook and Instagram of me and my husband, er, soon-to-be ex-husband, certainly didn’t shine any light on the fact that there was any sign of trouble in paradise. From the outside looking in, we were the perfect couple…the couple that gave other men and women- especially Black men and women- hope…that perhaps there is love out there and it can last, after all. That’s another reason why I stayed, by the way. Society will have us to believe that Black love is not a real thing. It doesn’t exist except for in romantic comedies starring Morris Chestnut and Gabrielle Union, or in romance novels. Other than that, it’s just not real. By staying in my faux perfect marriage, I was saying to society, “Screw you, Black love is a real thing…a beautiful thing…and not just something we see on tv.”

But alas, I just couldn’t pretend to be happy anymore. The hardest part was admitting it…out loud, and not just in my mind like I’ve been doing for the last few years. Each day that I woke up, put on my smile, and went about my day, only made me resent him, slowly but surely. And I can tell it’s not going to end well. He’s angry…I’m angry, hurt, confused, but I’m also happy. In a strange way, I feel a sense of relief. I did shed a few tears following the huge argument we had that caused me to finally say, “I quit,”  but I quickly decided that I am not going back to that place that I’ve been to so many times before- to that dark, depressed place I always find my way to whenever a relationship doesn’t work out. Nope, been there, done that, ain’t trying to go back. My marriage didn’t last…neither does almost 50% of anybody else’s marriage. S**t happens. I refuse to sit around and feel sorry for myself, what could’ve or should’ve been. I’m getting closer and closer to the big 4-0 and sitting around wallowing in self-pity is just not in my plans.

So, I started this blog to help me get through this. I am not a person who really talks to people about my problems…I’ve learned that most people don’t care about other people’s problems, anyway; they just wanna have something else to gossip about with their friends. So, this blog will be how I deal with going through my divorce. I’m sure there will be days where I’ll cry, then feel happy to be have managed to break free from the anchor that was dragging me underwater, making it harder and harder to breathe, then I’ll probably cry again. I’ll make sarcastic jokes and comments -my specialty- and probably cry some more in the days, weeks, and months to follow. But, I’ll do so knowing that I made the best decision for me and for my children, although they can’t see it right now. Right now, I think they- along with all the other people who brought into my perfect marriage- are kind of mad at me. Stay tuned…

#SingleLife #Divorce #Marriage

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