It’s been several years since I went through the break-up of my marriage. I stayed in the shell of that relationship, sad and lonely, for years. Why? Because I promised “’til death do us part.”
I felt alone all of the time. My voice was not heard. When I tried to talk to my husband, the words seemed to evaporate as I spoke them. He looked at me, heard me (or seemed to), but did nothing to signal that he cared. Still, I did not leave. There was that promise. There was the belief that I had failed, that I had made a poor choice in marrying him, but that there was no way out. People in my family did not get divorced. They stayed.
After years of being ignored, of pretending that our relationship was worth saving, I could no longer ignore the voice deep inside me that kept asking, “Is this really how I want to spend the rest of my life?” No. No. NO!
Going through a divorce is painful, but staying in a dead relationship is excruciating. And so, I called it quits. That was one of the most courageous decisions of my life.
I am free. Well, mostly free. The part I’m still working on is not judging myself for staying in a bad marriage for so long, for bowing to the fear that others would say that I had failed. I did not fail. I started my life over.
I am grateful to breathe again, to smile again, to have set myself free.