If you broke into song just now, please stop. OK, never mind, I’ll wait….humming along…whistling a little…good; now that we have that out of our system here is what is on my mind:
I’m angry and hurting. I say that quite matter-of-factly but it’s actually a rather large accomplishment for me. To feel anger within healthy boundaries and have a place for it to go without tearing apart my insides is a major step toward a more healthy me.
Let me put this in some context. My wife had the waiver (in response to the petition that I filed) notarized and gave it back to me to take to the courthouse (I live closer, it just makes more sense). In the same day she shared more about developing friendships within her support group – both male and female. She also shared how one of the men had been able to offer her a ride when the car was having issues. (I felt a bit displaced by that, but that conversation will be coming soon in a post on the “White Knight Complex.”) I responded honestly that I was glad she had new friends – on both ends of the gender scale. I have also had friends step forward and help out recently and I would not deny her the same support network.
Yet the thought of her in a car or in the store with someone else put a knot in my stomach. It’s not because she was doing something wrong or that I was feeling something wrong; I was just hurting from the change. Then as the line of thought progressed, the hurt became a mild anger.
For the bulk of this process, I have taken the lion’s share of the blame for our break up. I know I’m the one that left the house, ultimately asked for the divorce and filed the petition, but it can just as easily be said that it was all done as a result of me being rejected by her. The changes to my life are drastic and I understand why she did not embrace them, but understanding doesn’t alleviate the sense of hurt, judgment and rejection I feel. I am angry that our love was not strong enough to overcome any and all changes that either of us may face.
At the end of the day what I am seeking is the freedom to be and think and relate to God and people in my own, genuine way as I grow and discover myself. To expect her to change at the same pace and in the same direction as me would be paramount to denying her the very freedom I am seeking. As I’m learning to love me, and learning to love others as I love myself, I have to trust that there is still more: more fullness, more love, more living. And then I have to let it go.