It’s been about nine months since my husband of over eleven years decided to walk away from our marriage. In retrospect, I am very glad I didn’t start blogging back then, because there would’ve been a lot of evidence for trial.
Of course I’m joking now, just like I have for the last several months. My sense of humor is the biggest thing that got me through the implosion of my life that started back in December. It is also one of the things that has helped me rise up from the ashes.
Here’s a quick timeline to bring you up to speed:
*Caught husband involved in an affair (texts/emails) with one of his employees
*Told me he wanted out of our marriage on our way to Disneyland with our kids the week before Christmas
*Found out I was laid off from my job of nine years (that same weekend)
*Less than a month later he filed for divorce
*Told me he was “walking away” from our mortgage and house of nearly seven years
*Less than a month later, had his mistress/girlfriend around our children
*Less than three months later started having sleepovers (including with our children) at his girlfriend’s house
*Six months later, officially moved in with his girlfriend (with our children 50% off the time)
*Closed my business of almost six years
Sprinkled throughout that time were some other events like buying a vehicle and putting it (including her) on my car insurance . . . and lots of other things that caused me to think my ex must have a brain tumor. It was the only explanation of his erratic behavior. Within weeks of leaving, his appearance changed. He went from Old Navy Dad to Douche Bag a la Jon Gosling. How can you not see the humor in an almost 40-year-old man dressing like he’s 22?
When I would explain to friends, family, acquaintances, customers what was going on in my life they couldn’t believe I was smiling. Hell, I wouldn’t have thought that I could’ve smiled through losing my best friend/husband, my children half the time, my job, my house, my business -all in one fell swoop… but what else could I do? There were times I thought I must be on some sort of reality show that I wasn’t in on, like that movie The Truman Show. The Ex would do something, another thing, to me and I would think, “REALLY?!!” and wonder if at any moment Ashton Kutcher was going to come running up with a camera crew and inform me that I was being Punk’d. He didn’t. I wasn’t.
So, how can you not laugh? How can you not take a step back and realize the ridiculousness of the entire situation? Answer: You can’t because if you didn’t see humor in any of it you’d lose it . . . and I mean REALLY LOSE IT. When you’re a mother to three children under the age of 10 whose dad just decided he didn’t want to be with their mother anymore, you need to be there for them. You need to be the rock. And while he is cutting his hair and waxing his eyebrows and buying $900 concert tickets for his new girlfriend, someone has to remain the constant. Someone has to be the parent that shows them that she still loves them and will try to keep as much the same as possible . . . which includes kisses, hugs, bedtime stories, and jokes. And that brings about laughter, lots and lots of laughter.
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Originally published on The Seattle Lesbian
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