Chapter 4: The Divorce
Spoiler alert. This is the year we are going to get divorced.
By March I was making plans. Researching divorce lawyers and trying to figure out what the hell I would do without a husband. I wasn’t “making” money in my new job as a real estate investor. I mean, I was making money, but it would go right into debt payments or other properties. I had no money to live on. I couldn’t imagine asking for alimony. I mean, afterall I was the one that refused to do IVF; it was my fault we couldn’t agree.
I will probably end up moving in with my parents for a while. I don’t like that idea on bit. I moved away from my family so we could all be friends again. My being close to my mother and father can get tense in a hurry. Especially in my state of disarray. I had put expectations upon them for myself. “They want me to be financially successful.” “They want me to be independent and strong.” “They want me to suck up my hardships, push them under the surface, and look like I had it together.” I was none of those things. I didn’t consider that maybe they just wanted me to be happy.
Nothing against the small town lifestyle, but as far as I was concerned going back home was failure in terms of me doing it. I knew plenty of folks who moved back home after college and picked up fantastic careers, loved being near their family, loved the smalltown lifestyle. They were truly happy. I just couldn’t see myself doing the same thing. I had so many fantastic childhood memories of growing up there, but then middle school and high school happened. Emotions ran high and probably some depression as well. Going home reminded me of those feelings. It reminded me of how immature I was and just maybe, how little I’ve really changed since that time.
The reality of my options were slim. I could either figure it out with my husband or dive into the great unknown of going back to single life and rebuilding myself from nothing. Honestly, I just wanted to start a family. I just wanted to be a mom. Could I divorce my husband and adopt a baby? How could I even afford that? Where would I live? Who would give their child to a 20-something divorcee?
What did Justin think of all of this? I don’t know. We weren’t speaking. We would speak in short sentences to each other. Bursts of required information only meant for roomates. We would attempt date nights and evenings with friends but we never really spent quality time with each other. We didn’t communicate. I stopped letting him in and he stopped trying. He was at a loss. I was at a loss. This is the place where divorce happens. When two roads stop intersecting. We might as well have been on different planets.
Maybe we could be those people that are divorced but live together. Once I get on my feet, then I can move out. These are the thoughts going through my head. Never to be spoken out loud, but silently clouding every cell of my body.
I had been attending several networking meetings for my real estate career. At one meeting I met a woman at a meeting who was a psychic. How fun, maybe she can tell me my future, because I am at a total loss. So I make an appointment with this woman.
The first thing she says to me is, “Why do you think you need a divorce?”
First of all, who the hell are you and what are you doing in my brain? This was a terrible idea.
“Divorce isn’t an option for you. You have to make this marriage work. He is your soulmate.”
I don’t know what else she said in that hour long appointment, but for some reason the words she said resonated with me. What if divorce isn't an option? What would save this marriage? What would make us show love and respect toward each other again? What if my only option was to save the marriage, what would I do first? What if I made a solid effort to fix this?
Listen, I know it sounds ridiculous. I went to a ton of therapists and a freaking psychic brought me out of my transe. To be fair, not one of those therapists told me divorce wasn’t an option. In fact, one of them encouraged me to get a divorce.
“Don’t you know children don’t save marriages. You should consider divorce.
So here I am, taking the advice of a psychic. For the first time in two years I was putting my marriage first. I started communicating more. I started doing things I knew he appreciated more. I stopped snapping at him for every little thing. I stopped complaining about him to friends and family. Hold your tongue, girl. (Easier said than done) He started coming back to me. He opened up about what he needed and he began showing me more love.
We were able to discuss our future without shouting or passive aggressive silence. We were having meaningful conversation again. This was JUST because I changed my mindset. Divorce ISN’T an option for us. I have to make this work. I was in love with him once and for good reason. I can fall in love again. He can fall in love again.
We began to talk about what our marriage needed. We needed something to work toward together, in harmony. We both wanted children desperately. He wanted us to do IVF, I wanted us to adopt. IVF sounded emotionally draining. I didn’t feel I was stable enough to handle a failed IVF cycle. I didn’t feel our marriage was stable enough to handle a failed IVF cycle. I had no reason to believe IVF wouldn’t work. I just felt it would definitely be the end of US if we went through with it and it failed. I was able to convince Justin that adoption is how we would build our family for now. Maybe once we have a child, maybe then I can handle the emotional roller coaster that IVF would bring. Little did I know the roller coaster of adoption is no less painful.
Our five year anniversary was celebrated via road trip to the Grand Canyon. This would either kill us or bring us closer together. There was no in between. I remember taking a flight over the Grand Canyon and seeing the vastness of the canyons made by the speck of a river. What makes the Grand Canyon so grand is that the tiniest river created this deep scar on the earth. But the scar wasn’t ugly. It was majestic. The layers that tiny river carved into the rock told a story of hardships and and wrong turns. But those hardships and wrong turns didn’t stop the river from finding its way home. The canyon is just proof of what the tenacity of a little bit of water can do. The tiny whitecaps of the rapids show the chaos, and the calm, flowing sections show the rest. Chaos and rest. I feel like I continue to experience chaos, could this be my time of rest?
The river made it home to the ocean not by a simple straight path, but through twists and turns on this river’s long journey home. Every rock that was turned to sand from the constant movement of the river has a story to tell. The ending is always the same, the river makes it home. Was I the rock or the river? I am definitely being shaped like the rock, but that rock becomes sand. Or am I the river, constant movement and flow regardless of the obstacles. Currently I’m the rock. I want to be the river. I want to move forward.
I have been feeling trapped in my own canyon filled with eddies and whirlpools. I just keep circling back and not pushing forward. If the river could just find its way home and stop carving so deep into my heart, then I could be whole. But none of us are whole. We are all filled with scars, some deep and wide, others shallow paper cuts that sting and burn. It's time to catch the current to take me home. I cannot change my story, but maybe if I just stopped struggling I could stay afloat. Easier said than done. Lord, please throw me a life jacket, I do NOT have this.
We drove 1,500 miles together on this trip. As we approached the last leg, a song came on the radio. He sang, “I won’t give up on us, even if the skies get rough.”
Tears fell from my eyes without me even realizing it. I couldn’t give up. I chose this man for a reason. He chose me back. Damn you, music, for making my feelings punch me in the gut. I hate feelings. I suppose it’s time I put my adult panties on and get comfortable with them. I have a feeling our storms aren’t over yet. Maybe now we can try to weather these bitches together rather than apart.
