Change is here: my ex is moving out
It is the first time I have opened Word to write a blog in about six weeks. This is not uncommon, for me when shit is going down, I retreat. What is different this time is I made a choice not to do it. With so much going on in my personal life, I had to take a break from blogging and Facebook and focus on my boys and me.
My ex and I decided our marriage was over four years ago; he moved out of our bedroom and into the suite in our basement. For me, this was having my cake and eating it too. I still had my co-parent in the house, I still had the roommate I have had for years. I do know how that sounds, yet we both settled and have talked about it.
This worked for both of us. As much as we didn’t want to be a couple, I still felt strongly about being family – I called it doing divorced differently. So when I got diagnosed with breast cancer, he was in the house, he supported me through it by being there. I am not sure how it would have worked if we were doing two households and shared custody. I am not sure I would have made it through last year if this wasn’t the case. It was one less thing I had to worry about.
The last three months, things started to change; there were half-truths, and omissions and resentment started building. We had been talking about a July 1 moveout date for him, and we were prepping the boys. This got fast-tracked mid-May, and he moved out last Saturday.
Talk about ups and downs! This is what I wanted. Our marriage was over a long time ago, we are good friends now who love our kids, but I wasn’t prepared for the ups and downs of him moving out of the house. When I stopped and thought about it – it totally makes sense. I have been taking care of him for 24 years, that is how long we have lived together, and now that is over. There are so many habits I need to break. I have spent so many years making sure he was ok – and that is not my job anymore. NOT MY JOB ANYMORE! Wow, to say that and let it really sink in is huge and such a relief.
Still a lot of work to do
I am not naive enough to think that now he is out of my house that magically everything will be ok. We are going to the counsellor as a family and as parents. Last week, we made house rules – we are trying to be consistent, yet I know this will take time. I have been the hard ass and he has been the easy one, we now have to work towards the middle. Our youngest is feeling the changes and is super attached to him now that he is not there – you know the “Dad this, Dad that, Dad’s house is better, etc.” I know it is the shiny new object syndrome for the house – sharing a room with his brother is going to get old fast, and I know that this too will settle. Last week was the first one we did this. I know all of this, yet I still sat at Starbucks on Saturday and cried.
There has been a lot of tears in the last couple of weeks; a lot of emotions, ranging from sad to totally pissed off, to resentment. I know that we had to do this before we ended up hating each other. Some of these feelings are still there – not the sadness – and I am working through them. This is a significant change, and I am grieving – and that is ok, doesn’t mean I am not happy about it, yet I am excited about what is to come. I will admit that I am not thrilled with the idea of not seeing my kids every day – this week, they are with him, and I am on my own. It actually surprised me how much I didn’t like the idea.
Let the adventure begin
I have spent the last five days doing a major purge in MY house. It is no longer our house, and I needed to have a fresh start. Right now it looks like something exploded in parts of the house, but that is ok, I have this week on my own. I went back into my backyard, I finally have space and time to garden. You would think that I would have more space and time when he was in the house, but that was not the case; the mental space the move has freed is amazing. I knew I carried a big load yet I the last few weeks I realized how much of my effort was going in to be accommodating and that is soooo over. I have been accommodating for 24 years and FUCK THAT!
A lot of things are different this week and will continue to change, and I am ok with that, it’s going to be an adventure. Life is not about being fine. Fuck fine. Contact me here, if you need help saying fuck to fine.