The Decision

The first couple of weeks of March of 2008 I had started to let my secret be known to my mom. I would drop subtle hints about the big D word to her. I remember vividly one night standing in her kitchen after telling her that I wanted a divorce. I was wailing. She didn’t understand and neither did my dad. She said that I should try and work it out and wait. “Momma, I’ve been trying. There’s no hope anymore.” I told her. I could barely speak through my tears. At the time, I didn’t understand why she was pushing me to keep trying. All I could see was that she was siding with him. I felt hopeless. I tried explaining to her what was going on the previous months. I honestly felt completely alone at this point. I had no clue of what to do. It appeared that my mom wasn’t being supportive, and my dad just sat in the background and listened. Both of my parents had been divorced before getting together, so I had went into the conversation expecting them to be more sympathetic. They probably were, but with the state of mind I was in, I failed to see it. It was as though I was a teenager all over again, and that’s what teenagers do, they fail to see the true intent of their parents.

The following day, I called my husband to break the news to him. He wept, he pleaded with me to not do it. Honestly, I did not expect this reaction from him. I expected him to be ok with it. I told him that I already decided that it is what I want, and that there were no ways of avoiding it at this point. This particular day was my birthday. I had turned 25 that day. This was also exactly 6 weeks and 3 days following my return from Germany. I believe I had actually made the decision after 6 weeks, but waited the extra 3 days to be certain before I jumped on the divorce wagon. I considered myself separated as of January 28^th, the day after I returned from Germany, even though there wasn’t anything documented with the courts. It was the first day that he and I were not cohabitating and well after the last time we had sexual intercourse.

During the weeks that followed, my mom and husband began exchanging emails. His intent was to try and reach out to her as being the good guy. Her intent was to try and fully understand the situation. She also tried explaining to him the type of person I was. He had no part in it, he could care less. Or at least, that’s how it came across to her. When she went to clarify what he had written to her, he would either ignore it or come up with some excuse or non-relating reasoning for it. It wasn’t until then that I knew that my mom fully understood where I was coming from. She came to me one day and told me she was sorry and that she could now see what I saw. We both cried a little bit. She was finally on my side completely instead of being a mutual party. She saw his condescending ways first hand. She saw how he put himself on a pedestal, even to her. She saw how he spoke of me. She was able to read between the lines like I had. I felt a little relieved to know that she was finally beginning to see everything in a clear and bright light.