The typical dream-like fugue goes like this: You meet, you fall in love, you get married, life is interesting but good – if everything goes according to plan - you live happily ever after. It might just be me, although I suspect a great deal of people will disagree with the fairytale perpetuated by everything we say, watch, think and feel. Does it mean that you have a bad marriage if you fall into the ‘less than fulfilled’ category? Hardly; it simply makes you one with the masses. What happens if you realise that you married the wrong person, for the wrong reasons, that you simply don’t love your spouse anymore or even doubt that you know what love feels like? What would happen?
We were undeniably too young to get hitched. What do we generally know at 23? How would a person even answer that particular question, and surely, all people can’t move along the same lines? Enter my trusty coping mechanism to intense freak outs, research well beyond what would be termed reasonable and my new best friend, Google. According to Developmental Psychology , to a certain degree, we can and we do live along general psychological lines. Delving into all of the information about developmental psychology, I found a vast collection of ideas and theories and in some cases, pompous academic drivel. Looking at one particular sub-set, Erik Erikson's Stage Theory of Psychosocial Development :
Each stage would have what he called a ‘conflict’ which would herald a start at least, but hopefully a continuation of development. Ten years down the line, optimistically, this is where I find myself today. Now what? I know where I’ve been, and pretty much where I want to be - the how still being a point of contention though. The decision to become a stay-at-home mom, at the time, was valid enough for priority reassessment, and yet, I ended up completely cutting myself off from my own life. If I had an actual career instead of a string of non-committal middle management positions in the (mostly) hospitality industry, things might have been different in the decision making process of Family vs. Career. Come to think of it, I probably would have been too emotional about it back then; my daughter called me - I completely understand that it was an accident – by a different name, way too disturbing for this particular working mom. That same night I called my boss and quit. Years later and I cannot believe I did it so easily, or didn’t insist on studying something at the very least. Slowly but surely my life before marriage dissipated into the displeasing oddity I now regard it as being.
As with teachers, firemen and other service professions, being a mother is a vocation rather than a job and I firmly believe you are either born to do or not. We can certainly learn to do things in better ways, even become adept at them; although I am sure my husband will disagree on that and a few other scores. That in itself should still be normal enough though, had it been said tongue in cheek. For me motherhood at home meant endless hours of obsessing where the money will come from, backing down when the kids needed something and I getting told that we simply don’t have the means. In the beginning this was an acceptable compromise for me, it simply meant that I would have to pinch off on other places for the budget to work. The difference came to when I would need something, separate from the household, and already being so far down the pecking order, I ended up with one jean that didn’t fit well and one pair of skanky shoes. For the longest time I assumed that this was what happens in each house; food, kids, husband, house, me. I wonder if they call that something other than dumbass.
The choices we make are in part dependent on the options available to us as well as the general chatter about ourselves we tend to believe. That is the first part I have figured out so far. Would I have married a good man simply because he seemed trustworthy and I thought I knew what love meant? Or did the fact that of him being the father of my child play a role in convincing myself that he loved me back? *Light bulb moment* What if this could be termed a midlife crisis? Does it even apply in my specific situation? Besides, I’m only 33. Does it really matter if I can categorise what I am feeling with mainstream consent, will it provide an antidote to my current less-than-ok feeling? Am I really that shallow as to need a classification to be able to deal with the choices I’ve made thus far? The only answer I’ve been able to come up with, simply says, “If the damn shoe fits...” Let me explore this then, what’s the worst that could possibly happen?
According to www.psychologytoday.com "Midlife transition" is a natural stage that happens to many of us at some point (usually at about age 40, give or take 20 years). That’s good, because I am 7 years short of the conventional age group, and that was a troubling concept for me. Like any good glossy magazine questionnaire they include a practical checklist to see if you fall into said category or not.
I promised myself that this would be an “Anatomy”, which invariably means that emotional veracity should be at the core, for exact analysis can only be correctly achieved if all relevant forms of input are accurate. Lots of words, I agree, but this is my life (!) and I am going to be happy, one way or another. In the spirit of full disclosure, and taking blame self-assigned to me for my contribution to this matrimonial mishap; I had unfinished business, from years before, left at a gauche impasse no matter the reasons beyond my control. In short, I screwed up the most beautiful relationship I have ever had. The back-story will be delivered, in time, although not now, probably never. The more I think about him the more difficult a time I seem to have finishing up this current part of my life. Least I can say at present is that I am glad we are speaking again, regardless of what happened before. The reason for mentioning this particular slice of my history is simple. How could I blame my husband’s roving eyes and *shudder* hands when I carried a love so profound with me, for someone else, for such an incredibly long time? I believe in unconditional monogamy, which means even thinking about someone else in that way is cheating. Just because I never acted on my feelings, doesn’t mean that I didn’t measure my husband against this man, and that was as unfair as me feeling all of this again. As a marriage, ours didn’t stand a chance. So let me sober my thoughts and turn to the trust I have in technology. In no way does this trust extend to Windows :)
Things about a divorce I didn’t think of before: again, Google to the rescue.
Some time has passed since writing the above. I ran headlong into a headache of preposterous proportions and as a result, could write nothing. And I sorted out my life.
We all watched the show Dear John, some of us have sent and some of us have received those letters. It’s never fun breaking up with someone, even less so being left. And the movie scene in a crowded place where he/she breaks up with the other, just plain tacky. So naturally this is exactly what I did. My husband had been in another city for almost a week, and I fetched him from the airport. Timing couldn’t have been worse. I had nobody to watch the children for a long sit-down with him, and nowhere to go, except a random busy restaurant. I simply couldn’t live a lie for one more second. Financially it makes no sense to leave, emotionally it makes even less sense to stay; living in limbo merely wasn’t going to cut it anymore!
After an admittedly rocky start we settled on our actual feelings:
• We don’t love each other the way we are supposed to, and haven’t for the longest time.
• The kids deserve better than what we’ve given them thus far.
• The kids are the only people paying for our bad judgement.
• We need to be friends for anything happy to come out of this.
• We still care for each other, and respect is mutual, but the idea love is inconsistent with who we are.
• We can deal with the details at a later stage, when our friendship is without the daily burden of a failed marriage weighing down on us.
• If we should stumble upon distraction in the meantime, we will respect the sanctity of our family and keep it away from each other and the children, at least for the time being.
We shared a bed that night. We fell asleep holding each other. We even kissed halfway through the night. We cried. I couldn’t go through with anything more than that. The next morning we were courteous and actually joked around with the kids, high spirits for such a low day. That night we shared the bed again. Understand that for months we never slept in the same bed. Same thing happened that night, and again I balked. Then I apologised and he said he understood and we’ve been separated since then. He was my friend before he was my lover, before he was my husband. I was scared and fragile and so was he, it turns out. When we were supposed to be raging this gloves-off-bloody-war, we turned to each other for comfort, and providentially realised it would only be that – nothing more. We have actual conversations now, in between the kids and work and hectic schedules and hurt feelings we have managed to move closer to each other, as friends.
Cynicism is something I employ to protect myself from myself. I am incredibly spur-of-the-moment when the feeling grabs hold of me. This is where cynicism buffers any future madness, it doesn’t always work though, as my battered heart *thespian sigh* will undoubtedly indicate. Will this cease fire hold? Will we degenerate to our former status quo? Will everything come tumbling down around me and my grand design for the world’s first grownup divorce? I am admittedly waiting for the other shoe to drop.
One of the fun things of being a woman is that you can change the rules of who you are at a moments’ notice and it doesn’t count as being capricious – will figure out the reasoning of that one in a bit – it simply means that we are complex beings trying to make it through in one piece. Being a cynic does assuredly not ¬run counter to being deliriously positive about my future. Perhaps this could be the definition of realism.
Google has a plethora of definitions, strangely, none that fit my particular concept :)
There I have it though. I am a multifaceted individual with heightened feelings for my hopes and dreams offset by a natural inclination to find the silver lining, no matter the consequences while taking the occasional moment to wallow in self-pity when said moment comes cruising past – incredibly screwed up mommy on the verge of living her own life, for a change. So wish me luck, if nothing else, a reliable therapist – or 24/7 access to Google :)
We were undeniably too young to get hitched. What do we generally know at 23? How would a person even answer that particular question, and surely, all people can’t move along the same lines? Enter my trusty coping mechanism to intense freak outs, research well beyond what would be termed reasonable and my new best friend, Google. According to Developmental Psychology , to a certain degree, we can and we do live along general psychological lines. Delving into all of the information about developmental psychology, I found a vast collection of ideas and theories and in some cases, pompous academic drivel. Looking at one particular sub-set, Erik Erikson's Stage Theory of Psychosocial Development :
Psychosocial Stage 6 - Intimacy vs. IsolationHow do you like them apples? Imagine getting married at 23, where you are supposed to be actively laying the foundation for all relationships for the remainder of your life and you make the wrong decision, for whichever reason. How many people are currently living unfulfilled lives of (insert dramatic gambit) quiet desperation? How much of this negative growth will it take for the common person to a) realise their unhappiness, b) identify the reasons, and c) work up the courage to change their lives? Let us get back to Erikson’s theory then.
• This stage covers the period of early adulthood when people are exploring personal relationships.
• Erikson believed it was vital that people develop close, committed relationships with other people.
• Those who are successful at this step will develop relationships that are committed and secure.
o Remember that each step builds on skills learned in previous steps. Erikson believed that a strong sense of personal identity was important to developing intimate relationships. Studies have demonstrated that those with a poor sense of self tend to have less committed relationships and are more likely to suffer emotional isolation, loneliness, and depression.
Each stage would have what he called a ‘conflict’ which would herald a start at least, but hopefully a continuation of development. Ten years down the line, optimistically, this is where I find myself today. Now what? I know where I’ve been, and pretty much where I want to be - the how still being a point of contention though. The decision to become a stay-at-home mom, at the time, was valid enough for priority reassessment, and yet, I ended up completely cutting myself off from my own life. If I had an actual career instead of a string of non-committal middle management positions in the (mostly) hospitality industry, things might have been different in the decision making process of Family vs. Career. Come to think of it, I probably would have been too emotional about it back then; my daughter called me - I completely understand that it was an accident – by a different name, way too disturbing for this particular working mom. That same night I called my boss and quit. Years later and I cannot believe I did it so easily, or didn’t insist on studying something at the very least. Slowly but surely my life before marriage dissipated into the displeasing oddity I now regard it as being.
As with teachers, firemen and other service professions, being a mother is a vocation rather than a job and I firmly believe you are either born to do or not. We can certainly learn to do things in better ways, even become adept at them; although I am sure my husband will disagree on that and a few other scores. That in itself should still be normal enough though, had it been said tongue in cheek. For me motherhood at home meant endless hours of obsessing where the money will come from, backing down when the kids needed something and I getting told that we simply don’t have the means. In the beginning this was an acceptable compromise for me, it simply meant that I would have to pinch off on other places for the budget to work. The difference came to when I would need something, separate from the household, and already being so far down the pecking order, I ended up with one jean that didn’t fit well and one pair of skanky shoes. For the longest time I assumed that this was what happens in each house; food, kids, husband, house, me. I wonder if they call that something other than dumbass.
The choices we make are in part dependent on the options available to us as well as the general chatter about ourselves we tend to believe. That is the first part I have figured out so far. Would I have married a good man simply because he seemed trustworthy and I thought I knew what love meant? Or did the fact that of him being the father of my child play a role in convincing myself that he loved me back? *Light bulb moment* What if this could be termed a midlife crisis? Does it even apply in my specific situation? Besides, I’m only 33. Does it really matter if I can categorise what I am feeling with mainstream consent, will it provide an antidote to my current less-than-ok feeling? Am I really that shallow as to need a classification to be able to deal with the choices I’ve made thus far? The only answer I’ve been able to come up with, simply says, “If the damn shoe fits...” Let me explore this then, what’s the worst that could possibly happen?
According to www.psychologytoday.com "Midlife transition" is a natural stage that happens to many of us at some point (usually at about age 40, give or take 20 years). That’s good, because I am 7 years short of the conventional age group, and that was a troubling concept for me. Like any good glossy magazine questionnaire they include a practical checklist to see if you fall into said category or not.
SymptomsPhew! That’s me, and strangely enough, my normal predisposition of absolutely not belonging to the group of people who live the candle-in-the-wind style that usually ends up with mass-hysteria (actually, mass-anything), I find a perverse relief in not being the only one going through this. Join a support group? Hell no! This is mine, all mine *insert evil witch cackle*. Truth be told, writing about all of this is understandably cathartic and I honestly don’t want to share any of it just yet. In the Treatment section they say the following:
Small, nagging doubts may appear, encouraging a series of dramatic, seemingly irrational events and ultimately great change. A person experiencing midlife symptoms will ask: Is this all there is? Am I a failure?
Symptoms and behaviors during midlife crisis can range from mild to severe, including:
• Boredom and exhaustion, or frantic energy
• Self-questioning
• Daydreaming
• Irritability, unexpected anger
• Acting on alcohol, drug, food or other compulsions
• Greatly decreased or increased sexual desire
• Sexual affairs, especially with someone much younger
• Greatly decreased or increased ambition
Coping with midlife crisis takes time and energy, but this is a necessary part of finding greater satisfaction in life. The symptoms are not physically based: You can maintain an active sex life, keep fit and enjoy yourself as you mature. Below are some tips for middle-aged adults focusing on healthy lifestyles.Naturally they give you the tips, and I did scan through them, although it is pretty much a given that you should look after your diet, increase exercise etc ad infinitum. Getting back to that list up there though; second from last they give Sexual affairs, especially with someone much younger. There I get to air some less than clean laundry for once. No, I never actually went through with it (more precisely, anything) but there was this guy who reminded me so much of my husband a million years ago. I was completely infatuated, needed to meet and speak to and understand what he (my hub) was thinking at that age, better to inform me about his (then) current mindset. To protect the misdiagnosed idea of the sanctity of our marriage I purposefully refrained from seeing this kid in a sexual context; I had this crazy notion that integrity in committed relationships meant (partly) monogamy. Apparently that only applies to people who (me) believe in the inviolable sacred vows we so eloquently sited nine years ago.
I promised myself that this would be an “Anatomy”, which invariably means that emotional veracity should be at the core, for exact analysis can only be correctly achieved if all relevant forms of input are accurate. Lots of words, I agree, but this is my life (!) and I am going to be happy, one way or another. In the spirit of full disclosure, and taking blame self-assigned to me for my contribution to this matrimonial mishap; I had unfinished business, from years before, left at a gauche impasse no matter the reasons beyond my control. In short, I screwed up the most beautiful relationship I have ever had. The back-story will be delivered, in time, although not now, probably never. The more I think about him the more difficult a time I seem to have finishing up this current part of my life. Least I can say at present is that I am glad we are speaking again, regardless of what happened before. The reason for mentioning this particular slice of my history is simple. How could I blame my husband’s roving eyes and *shudder* hands when I carried a love so profound with me, for someone else, for such an incredibly long time? I believe in unconditional monogamy, which means even thinking about someone else in that way is cheating. Just because I never acted on my feelings, doesn’t mean that I didn’t measure my husband against this man, and that was as unfair as me feeling all of this again. As a marriage, ours didn’t stand a chance. So let me sober my thoughts and turn to the trust I have in technology. In no way does this trust extend to Windows :)
Things about a divorce I didn’t think of before: again, Google to the rescue.
PREDIVORCE OR DELIBERATION STAGE
During this stage, which takes place before separation is even contemplated; one of the spouses (more often, the wife) typically is experiencing feelings of dissatisfaction, alienation, loneliness, and despair. She engages in a long period (up to several years) of deliberation regarding how to resolve the uncomfortable feelings about her marital relationship. Typically, she attempts a variety of ways to cope with these feelings before the decision to separate and/or divorce is reached. These coping attempts may include getting angry at, confronting, and quarrelling with her spouse in hopes of provoking him to change; sulking and crying; withdrawing from her spouse as a way to avoid experiencing the pain of non-communication; escaping into work or into excessive time with friends; extra-marital affairs; drugs or alcohol; or, in extreme cases, physical abuse. If none of these tactics works and her husband will not go for counselling, or if counselling is ineffective for relieving these feelings of despair and she is unable or unwilling to accept the status quo within the marriage, she may decide to divorce. It is then that a point of inevitability is often reached, a point when the wife has emotionally removed herself from the marriage. Having no other alternatives, she announces that she wants a separation. This declaration triggers the first significant emotional reaction in her husband, who initially may respond with denial, but also may pull back emotionally for self-protection.This is where I am at the moment before I actually tell him straight out what I’ve decided. The prospect of turning everything upside down is certainly not an appealing concept for me, and yet I know that it is for the best. Who could possibly be content with being unhappily hitched? The answer to that lies in my parents’ marriage and that is getting a bit too close for my emotional comfort levels. Enter a Top Ten List with my views and opinions in italics.
TOP 10 EMOTIONAL FACTS ABOUT DIVORCE***
By Judith Briles, Edwin Schilling III, and Carol Ann Wilson
The wife may not be able to keep the house.
We live in a granny flat on his parents’ property. The only thing I may ever be sad about is the safe neighbourhood. The property we jointly owned can be sold and split 50/50.
The husband may need to share his pension.
That is certainly not something I want to happen. He worked damn hard to be able to contribute to his provident fund, which is simply not mine to share.
In divvying up household items, you may not be able to keep your favourite painting or casserole dish.
Which is why I have been buying myself gifts from him :)
You may not have as much money as you want, need, or used to have.
This is one good thing about living well below the poverty line (not really), I am already used to using a budget, although I am certainly aware of the levels my own financial fiasco will drop dramatically.
You may have to set up a visitation schedule for your family pet.
At least we don’t have a pet anymore; I am more worried about the children here.
The kids will go to your ex for permission when you say "no."
This is inevitable and understandable though. Kids will be kids. It’s not like aren’t doing it at the moment.
Your old friends may not be your friends anymore.
This is why I have started making new friends, separate from ‘our friends’.
You may not get invited to couples parties anymore.
Oh thank God for that!
You may dread running into your ex with your "replacement."
This one will get me square on the jaw, I know that already. As long as the ‘replacement’ is good for the kids, and she and I can agree to keep it like that, it will only be my ‘memories of us’ getting assaulted, right?
It’s a lonely time -- but possibly a time of positive transformation, if you play your cards right.
Will someone please pass the rule book then?
Some time has passed since writing the above. I ran headlong into a headache of preposterous proportions and as a result, could write nothing. And I sorted out my life.
We all watched the show Dear John, some of us have sent and some of us have received those letters. It’s never fun breaking up with someone, even less so being left. And the movie scene in a crowded place where he/she breaks up with the other, just plain tacky. So naturally this is exactly what I did. My husband had been in another city for almost a week, and I fetched him from the airport. Timing couldn’t have been worse. I had nobody to watch the children for a long sit-down with him, and nowhere to go, except a random busy restaurant. I simply couldn’t live a lie for one more second. Financially it makes no sense to leave, emotionally it makes even less sense to stay; living in limbo merely wasn’t going to cut it anymore!
After an admittedly rocky start we settled on our actual feelings:
• We don’t love each other the way we are supposed to, and haven’t for the longest time.
• The kids deserve better than what we’ve given them thus far.
• The kids are the only people paying for our bad judgement.
• We need to be friends for anything happy to come out of this.
• We still care for each other, and respect is mutual, but the idea love is inconsistent with who we are.
• We can deal with the details at a later stage, when our friendship is without the daily burden of a failed marriage weighing down on us.
• If we should stumble upon distraction in the meantime, we will respect the sanctity of our family and keep it away from each other and the children, at least for the time being.
We shared a bed that night. We fell asleep holding each other. We even kissed halfway through the night. We cried. I couldn’t go through with anything more than that. The next morning we were courteous and actually joked around with the kids, high spirits for such a low day. That night we shared the bed again. Understand that for months we never slept in the same bed. Same thing happened that night, and again I balked. Then I apologised and he said he understood and we’ve been separated since then. He was my friend before he was my lover, before he was my husband. I was scared and fragile and so was he, it turns out. When we were supposed to be raging this gloves-off-bloody-war, we turned to each other for comfort, and providentially realised it would only be that – nothing more. We have actual conversations now, in between the kids and work and hectic schedules and hurt feelings we have managed to move closer to each other, as friends.
Cynicism is something I employ to protect myself from myself. I am incredibly spur-of-the-moment when the feeling grabs hold of me. This is where cynicism buffers any future madness, it doesn’t always work though, as my battered heart *thespian sigh* will undoubtedly indicate. Will this cease fire hold? Will we degenerate to our former status quo? Will everything come tumbling down around me and my grand design for the world’s first grownup divorce? I am admittedly waiting for the other shoe to drop.
One of the fun things of being a woman is that you can change the rules of who you are at a moments’ notice and it doesn’t count as being capricious – will figure out the reasoning of that one in a bit – it simply means that we are complex beings trying to make it through in one piece. Being a cynic does assuredly not ¬run counter to being deliriously positive about my future. Perhaps this could be the definition of realism.
Google has a plethora of definitions, strangely, none that fit my particular concept :)
• realist - a philosopher who believes that universals are real and exist independently of anyone thinking of themNo worries, I take poetic license and deem Cynicism + Optimism = Realism. Take that Einstein!
• realist - a person who accepts the world as it literally is and deals with it accordingly
• realist - a painter who represents the world realistically and not in an idealized or romantic style
There I have it though. I am a multifaceted individual with heightened feelings for my hopes and dreams offset by a natural inclination to find the silver lining, no matter the consequences while taking the occasional moment to wallow in self-pity when said moment comes cruising past – incredibly screwed up mommy on the verge of living her own life, for a change. So wish me luck, if nothing else, a reliable therapist – or 24/7 access to Google :)
