Editor’s Note: This article was written by a contributor and not by Maman Caféine.
Five years ago, reality hit me like a ton of bricks: I was no longer in love with the father of my children. I still had a great deal of affection for him, and I loved what we’d built together, but I wasn’t in love with him anymore. There was no more passion, no more sparks. All I had left was our daily routine and the sad feeling that I’d missed out on something somewhere along the way.
That week, I cried every night in the car on my way home. I knew I had to make a decision, that I had to have a conversation that would deeply hurt my partner, but I was paralyzed by fear and regret.
For a week, I thought about it day and night. I had thousands of internal conversations with myself and painfully realized that I had to make a choice. I had to choose myself, because if I didn’t take care of my own happiness, no one else would do it for me—and that risked damaging my relationship with my children and with myself. I asked my mom to watch the kids for an entire weekend, and I had the final conversation on Friday night. To this day, I still have a hard time talking about that moment—it tears me apart inside. Being the one who leaves is simply horrible, because you live with the guilt of having caused immense pain to the person you’re leaving behind. In my ex’s case, he didn’t see it coming, and that conversation hit him like a bombshell. Too caught up in the daily grind, he hadn’t noticed the slow decline of our relationship. He asked me if we could save it, but deep down, I knew we couldn’t. Some people will throw stones at me and tell me I should have at least tried—gone to couples therapy, talked it out—but I knew. We’d stretched the elastic too far for too long.
After that somber conversation, we gave each other some space for 24 hours. I went to stay at a friend’s house, and he stayed home. On Saturday night, we put our emotions aside (I have no idea how we managed to do that!) and talked about what would happen next. I told him that we might have “failed” as a couple, but that I wanted us to make our separation work and remain good parents to our children. I’d lived through my parents’ acrimonious separation and didn’t want to repeat the same pattern. He agreed.
On Sunday, when our kids came back, we explained the situation to them as best we could. My ex let me do most of the talking, and looking back, I understand why. In the end, it was sort of “my” decision. Our little ones were too young at the time to really understand (ages 4 and 7), and a lot of tears were shed that evening. The following week, we were already going through the process. I have to admit that despite all the maturity my ex and I each showed, we needed the help of a mediator. It wasn’t so much that we were arguing over the division of property and joint custody; it was more that we were exhausted. We were at the end of our rope, both mentally and physically. Five years later, I can say with certainty that it was the best decision we ever made.
And that brings me to this point… Five years later, how are things going? How did I (sur)vive my separation? In all honesty, it was the worst and the best thing that ever happened to me. The worst, because I had to accept being separated from my children half the time, because I’ll never again experience moments with my “nuclear” family, because I still sometimes feel guilty for being the one who broke up our circle… And it was the best thing that ever happened to me because it taught me how to live on my own. I’d been in a relationship ever since I was 16. This separation allowed me to discover sides of myself I didn’t know existed and to reconnect with aspects of myself I’d set aside. I learned to manage on my own without my partner in certain areas, and I’ve genuinely become stronger and more independent as a result.
And what about our kids in all this? They’ve adapted wonderfully well. They impress me every day. Dad quickly started dating again, and that’s allowed our kids to spend time with two wonderful new children whom they now consider family. Sure, things aren’t always perfect, but they can see that their dad and mom are happier apart than together.
When they’re older, I might explain to them why I made this decision. I’ll tell them that we are the most important people in our own lives and that some decisions, though heartbreaking, will make us happier in the long run.
Have you ever been through a separation? How did things go for you?