There’s really nothing quite like leaving your marriage, moving out and starting over completely from scratch to give you a kick start to growing, learning and maturing as a person. Especially when three kids are depending on you for everything.
I’m not glamourizing divorce by any means but let’s be real. There are situations that call for walking out and ending a marriage.
People change or even worse, people don’t change. I used to get so annoyed when I still was on FB at those posts people write about long marriages and “sticking it out for better or worse”. Kiss my ass.
I didn’t get married to end up divorced, I took it very seriously and I’m really not proud of the fact that my marriage ended. It sucks. But what was I to do? I despised him so much that I legit wanted to kill him.
Is that the example you should be setting for your kids? Angry all the time. Exuding hostility towards the person who is supposed to be “your person”? I highly doubt it.
Was it hard to leave? You betcha. But I was bound and determined to not let it affect my kids, wherever I could help it.
In hindsight I was foolish to think that all I had to do was spend quality time with the kids on the days I had them, work overtime so they could still have all the material things they did before and everything would be just fine.
It did affect them. Maybe not off the hop but eventually. He didn’t hold up his end of the bargain. He took it harder than the kids. Which ended up trickling down to them.
But I learned that I can make it on my own. That I am an independent woman. I am stuck way up north with no family and a handful of female friends. But we survived.
I worked Monday to Friday in a clinic and then after work on Friday afternoon would go home at five and try and sleep an hour before going in to the Psych Unit to work a twelve hour night shift. Sleep Saturday and go to work Saturday night again for another night shift. Sleep a bit Sunday and try to get myself turned back around for work in the clinic Monday am. It was hard but I only did it on the weekends the kids were at their dad’s to make that overtime I needed so badly.
This wasn’t one of those divorces where the mrs sits on her butt collecting child support and alimony. There was absolutely none of that. Zilch. My money was all the money I had.
But I did it. I hope someday the kids will know that I did it all for them. And if they’re ever in the same situation, god forbid, they can pull it off too.
bloom.planted.north 
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