I took one final look around. Piles of bags were neatly arranged in what would soon become my former living room. Loud thumps alerted the neighbors as my father tossed bags on the bed of his truck. I peeked through the blinds, as my husband used to do whenever he heard noises on our street. My aunt was organizing my daughter’s toys in her trunk. It was all coming together. Our eight-year marriage had finally come to an end.
The breakup lasted seven years. That’s how long we knew we weren’t happy. I realized I wanted to end the marriage three years before I actually left, but I didn’t want my daughter to experience all the emotions that would come with the transition of divorce. Her biological father, who I was separately co-parenting with, found an amazing woman and fell in love. Their relationship led to engagement, marriage, and the younger sibling my daughter had long been asking for. She was now going through transitions of her own. How could I put her through one more? I wanted to provide familiarity, a sanctuary. A place that truly felt like home.
Day in and day out, my husband and I strung along a repetitive routine that both of us could recite with our eyes closed. It reached a point where we no longer fought; we coexisted in the simplest way. We were perfect roommates, lacking any form of romantic connection. Those days came and went faster than my heart and mind could register. We found rays of happiness in our friendship, bound by our love for movies, food, and family. He was a good man, and I had to learn that although he was a nice person, it didn’t mean he was the right person for me.
For three years, I pursued my passions and rebuilt confidence, though it wasn’t easy to break the routine and get my mojo back. We blamed each other for the failures in our marriage and, frankly, were both responsible. There was a darker period of nasty fights. My daughter never witnessed them, but the tensions manifested in other ways. I wondered whether she noticed we were unhappy. He had been her stepfather for all these years, and they had become inseparable. The years passed, and I weighed the pros and cons. My family and friends knew I was unhappy but respected my decision to stay every time. Truth is, I could have stayed married to him forever, but we both would have been unhappy, and my daughter would have never seen me the way I am now.
I always believed in love. Through it all, I knew there was someone out there for me. I refused to accept that this was it, even though I sometimes had my doubts. I knew that leaving meant there was a chance it would be trial and error until I would find him. When I reconnected with someone I cared deeply for, I didn’t want to go about things in a way that would hurt anyone. I was confident this was the right time.
My daughter and I moved from a spacious three-bedroom apartment to a smaller shared living space with my grandmother. The transition was difficult. My grandmother suffers from Alzheimer’s, and it brings forth good and bad days. The ups and downs were all part of the decision. I chose to pursue love, and owning up to how I wanted to see my life led to packing up. My daughter knew everything. Transparency helped us transition. I told her she could ask me anything at any time. We had daily discussions about our feelings and where we stood. She was happier than before.
A couple of months later, she met the person I was dating and noticed the difference. He and I were more affectionate. It was more than friendship. She noticed each change and became my number one supporter. She said I smiled more. We did more things together — things like long drives alone, which strengthened that bond. For years, I was afraid of the effects a separation or divorce would have on her. But in reality, things got better.
The decision to stay or leave isn’t easy. There are many factors to consider — ones that only you know. Sometimes staying is best. Some couples are able to work through their differences. My advice — woman to woman, mom to mom — is to find space in your decision to consider you. My rule of thumb was, “What advice would I give my daughter? Am I living true to that advice?” It boiled down to no — I’d never want her to stay in any relationship that truly made her unhappy. Either way, the road will be tough. Hardship is inevitable, but even in the midst of the most tumultuous times, you have a choice. You can always change your stars.
