Tag: separation

On the subject of self-discovery, what is it exactly that we’re looking for, when exactly does that “discovery” begin?

I’m 50.  As I struggle through yet another failed marriage,  I find myself pondering that question most quiet moments of my day.  A portion of my college career required I read a bunch of philosophy and religion.  My conclusion was, simply, that the big picture is to live a good life.  I’m not pious, but I do make an effort to reflect on my life and be a good person.  I pick apart the things I do, the experiences I have and I try to learn the whys and whats of the outcomes.  Life has been busy.  I married young, became a mother young, and divorced young – in that order.  Rinse. Repeat – two more times.  It wasn’t the failed marriages that kept me busy, it was single-parenting and aspiration.

My first marriage was a painful disaster from which I think I’ve yet to recover in some areas.  After several years of abuse, I realized it was time to move on.  At first, I had the complete support of his family, until they realized I was really moving on.  That’s when yet another round began. I found myself in the midst of trying to break away from a husband that battered me, get back to my education, single parent my daughter and embroil myself in a custody battle I could not win. The custody battle, like most custody battles (hence “battle”) was dirty, ugly and mean-spirited.  No one was winning, especially my daughter.  In the end it was like the dueling mothers in the Judgement of Solomon.  I was the one that refused to have my child split in half.  Except, Solomon didn’t care.  So, I walked away from it all, from her.  She would be too young to remember all of the trauma and the warring and I’d figure out a way to make it work. I began to rebuild.  I was 19.

I thought moving away, far away, would help.  I’d be away from all of the people that harmed me, harmed my relationship with my daughter.  I’d be away from the very family, my family, that betrayed me because of their own selfish desires, jealousy, and possibly hate.  Starting fresh would only require that I pick up the little pieces of me and put them back together on my own terms in a safe space.  After a year or so I’d find myself back where it all started, trying to pick up where I left off.  I had cut ties with my entire family.  All I would need to continue was husband number two and the two fruits which this marriage bore.  And so began my new beginning.  Or so I thought.  I was 21.

At 21, our frontal lobe has yet to own the fact that things are just not as easy as we think they are.  No, we can’t jump off of the roof of a house without getting hurt, and yes, there are obstacles that get in the way of things, whether we like it or not.  Maybe it wasn’t so much my frontal lobe as it may have been my egocentrism.  Although i didn’t feel “egocentric” perhaps I did not see how events did not just revolve around my wishes, hopes and desires.  Reconnecting with my daughter would not be as easy as I would have liked.  There were so many other factors that I didn’t consider at the time.  I rushed into a new marriage without establishing something on which I could stand – the foundation was loose and soon this marriage too would falter. This time, however, the abuse would be of a mental nature.  Who knew mental fucks were worse than physical ones.  I’m not so foolish as to say that it was all “them” and not “me”.  Consistently, I am told that I am stubborn, hard headed, immovable.  Maybe I am.  But I’ve grown to know that all one should to do is walk away from a situation that doesn’t fit – you can’t beat someone into submission because of your own insecurities. Divorce #2.  I was 27.  Aspiration kicked in.

Over the next few years I would put myself through college, have a relationship that didn’t involve physical or mental abuse, simply end in heartbreak, and try to leverage myself into a position of self-sufficiency – first for my children and ultimately for myself.  Ah, many mis-steps later, a BA, an MA, and success.  Or so I thought.  I was 39.

2009 brought husband #3 into my life.  We expected that enough of life had happened to both of us to make this marriage be an example of a strong marriage, one from which our children could grow and gain strength.  However, 3.5 years later we would find that enough of life had happened to both of us to make this marriage end up in separation instead.  And now, here I am. I am 50.

As I write this I realize that a lot has truly happened in my life.  And no matter what’s in my head right now, or what happened in the past, I have accomplished things.  I’ve been so busy doing, and “moving past”, that I’ve missed a lot. I have a long way to go before I can move forward.  

Socrates is quoted in Plato’s Apology as having said that, “…the unexamined life is not worth living…” .  So, it’s time for me to examine my life, and find strength in the B-Side of my life.  

I invite you to ride along and maybe you can learn from the lessons I have learned and I can learn from yours.

Here’s to the B-Side of life.