A lady at church asked me last week if I would ever consider getting back together with my ex husband. I saw her intention: trying to right the wrong, correct the error, patch the ugly. Which is what made me realize this: it wasn’t all his fault.
I used to believe that it was ALL his fault. The evil troll ruined my life.
When I was going through the divorce process, I was hyper sensitive. I was crushed by the loss of my family identity. I was in pain owning up to the fact that I broke my vow: till death do you part. I felt like everybody judged me as a failure. I assumed the worst when interacting with others. And I blamed it all on him.
Now that I have had time to heal from my divorce, I acknowledge that it wasn’t all my ex’s fault. I am less sensitive now, so I can recognize my shortcomings and contributions that led to our divorce.
I think acknowledging my role in the demise of our marriage was an important step to healing. It’s natural to blame everyone else but ourselves. So when I finally admitted my contributions that led to the failure of our marriage, it actually made me happy. That sounds backwards. Hear me out. I was not happy that I wrecked our marriage. Rather, I was happy that I could see progress in my level of maturity. It wasn’t mature of me to think I was completely innocent in the matter, so admitting my faults was a sign of vulnerability. Being vulnerable about my shortcomings will help me grow and become a better person. I recognized where I fell short, and I now work on improving in my areas of weakness.
It also gives me more authenticity when I talk to my kids about the divorce. When they first questioned why I left their dad, my jaw would clench, holding back the saga of the evil troll who ruined my life. However, I refrained from throwing him under the bus. But that I have healed and matured, I can humbly, authentically, acknowledge that we both had issues that led to our decision to go separate ways.
So, when the church lady asked me about getting back with my ex, this whole conversation raced through my mind, about how it wasn’t all his fault, I also contributed to the failure of our marriage. Still, the answer was instant and clear as crystal: hellno (hell-to-the-no). Instead, I smiled sweetly and replied, “never say never”.