I didn't plan to get divorced.

I didn’t plan to get divorced.

It wasn’t part of the “plan” I “foresaw” for my life.

I held onto my marriage for as long as I could. Faked my way through being happy, pretending everything was hunky-dory, even made up some stories along the way to make people think that I was ok, that our marriage was good.

I told everyone how the first year of marriage was hard, but it seemed to get better in year two or three. If I’m being honest, that was a lie. It never got better. There were good days, maybe even a good week, but never a good “year.” It never got better.

I told myself he needed to finish grad school, find a new job, we needed to add to our family, make more money – then finally, we would be ok, but it didn’t seem to come.

I never told you about the tears. The anxiety. The pain. I never told you about how I would pray that the next year, the next month, the next week, the next day, the next hour – would be better. I would cry in the bathroom, the closet, next to my bed – anywhere that I could be hidden, unseen.

The doors were locked. I had thrown away the key. I shouldn’t want to get divorced; this wasn’t even on my radar.

I changed who I was – more introverted, less family time. I gave up what I wanted to appease my spouse.

At my age now, I hoped to have at least one child, maybe pregnant with the next, secure in a marriage that had now stood for 7 years, but it didn’t happen.

I read a friend’s post on her anniversary about how her commitment to her spouse (in 10 years of marriage) “is stronger than the cultures pull to look for the next shiny thing. God’s awesome.” And I’m here to tell you, my commitment was strong. I tried all of the right things. I read the books. I went to counseling, I asked my husband to go to counseling. I sought the Lord. I stopped picking at the “little things” a long time ago and gave up my desires, and all I got was “sloppy seconds.”

I didn’t have physical touch, words of affirmation, or quality time – any of the things I desired. But I served and served, gave and gave – hoping that one day I would maybe just scratch the surface and begin to reap some of what I sowed.

And then I realized, I was done. I was done losing myself. I was done covering the pain. I was done giving up my happiness and my potential because someone didn’t want to walk this journey with me. I decided to do the very thing he told me to do for so long, find someone else.

So I left. He tried to get me back. I was weak, I went back. I realized how unhappy I was, how I’ve seen this change before and watched it turn sour again. Could I trust this? Was this change for real? Could I stick around to watch the change happen?

I went to more counseling. I consulted family and friends. I prayed. I cried. I tried to find my peace.

I did some things that I realized were only the symptoms of the problems, the deeply rooted issues. And so I filed for divorce. I left. I moved out. I took my things, rented an apartment, and began rebuilding my life.

I keep going to counseling. I keep consulting with family and friends. And guess what? I’m happy. I’m joyful. I’m peaceful. I am myself again.

I was never looking for the next shiny thing, it wasn’t about that, because we all know that even shiny things will dull. In this life, we have one shot to make the most of all we have, because tomorrow, all could be gone. So I have chosen to trust God, because in all of this, I know he has not led me astray, and he has been here every step of the way. He knew this was going to happen. He knew how he was going to direct my steps. And in the end, I’m not going to just be ok, I will be better than ok.

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