Life moves quickly and painfully slowly. I am nearing the end of summer and will soon have two children off at college; I am impatiently waiting to sell the house I am in and buy a smaller house of my very own.
In 20 days I will be divorced.
I think, most of the time, that I am happy about this. After 22 years of marriage, I am looking forward to a new beginning. Divorce wasn’t my idea but I’ve decided to embrace it. I was terrified to start this path back in October but I also realized, faster than I cared to admit, that this was a blessing. I wouldn’t have left no matter how sad I was because I didn’t think I could survive on my own.
It is strange to write down those words.
I have survived on my own for 10 months. I have survived and, sometimes, I’ve even thrived. I am still grieving the loss of what I wanted but realizing that wasn’t what I was ever going to have. So I chose to be happy. I cry and rage as much in private as I can (I do have two kids dealing with this in their own way). But I also get up each day one step closer to my own life.
I want my children to see that you can choose happiness and create a life that gives you that happiness. I hate to think that for the majority of their lives, they haven’t seen me truly happy. I don’t want them to settle for less than they deserve the way that I did for too long. So I pray every day for their happiness.
I have no hatred in my heart. I don’t want to live with the burden.