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Maybe it’s because I saw a friend who is roughly the same age I was, going through similar hard decisions.
Maybe it’s because my spouse and I were struggling to make a hard decision about an external relationship that isn’t going well.
Honestly, I think my decision to move away was harder for him to accept than the divorce. So here I am, twelve years later, older and hopefully wiser, looking back at that time in my life and thinking… It was horribly hard to leave what I had known for the previous ten years: a spouse, a home, a friendship.
How do you walk away from the one who was your closest connection for that long? I moved 1,000 miles from almost everyone and everything I had ever known.
I think on some level we knew, even then, that we shouldn’t get married, that things weren’t that great, but people were starting to ask, and everyone (including us) assumed that we would get married. Things were okay for a little while, and outwardly we seemed happy. We kept trying to put the pieces back together, but every time we tried to hold tighter, things dissolved into another argument, each cutting more deeply than the last.
By the end we barely spoke, each retreating to separate rooms for the evening. He agreed, and for the most part, the split was amicable.
I could never in a million years have planned for my life to be the way it is today. In that relationship, I didn’t have space and freedom to explore myself—my thoughts, feelings, and beliefs—and it was stifling.
When I had a new idea, I usually received harsh criticism and derision. Whether it’s a romance, a friendship, or even family relationship, sometimes you have to take a hard look and make a hard choice.
Starting over is hard, really hard—especially when you feel like you failed at holding together something as important as a marriage. Staying in that relationship was killing us both, because we were growing and changing, but not in the same way—not on the same path.My life now is so vastly different from what I thought it was supposed to be back then.