The biggest threat to marriage? It comes from within the marriage itself.
Lack of communication. Verbal and emotional abuse. Trust issues. Fear.
I consider myself a Christian, but in the face of my own divorce – how can I throw stones? My job is to love God, and love people. Having been through the last decade of a marriage that was never really stable, safe or secure, I can’t help but think all this energy and fear over the LGBT collective now able to marry is being misplaced.
Because frankly? Having two people who love and are committed to each other seems rather a stabilizing force on society, when marriage seems to be less popular among heterosexual couples. I genuinely cannot find a rational explanation for what is so dangerous. I’ve read the Bible, many times. My next step seems to be to try and get the word studies and understand the pre-translated meanings of the words to see if that sheds any light. But in the end, I don’t really care. I’m going to love on people and support those who have supported me.
There is a discomfort in unpleasant honesty. The price of mine, might very well have made it more difficult for my Ex to find somewhere to stay.
I could hear the accusation, even in the stark text of an e-mail I shouldn’t have read.
‘You made me a pariah.’ Continue reading
(A forgotten draft, posted late almost a year later.)
There is this fine line for me, a line between empowerment and safety. A line between productivity and caving in to irrationality. My whole goal in this divorce, has been to untangle us from our marriage with as little cost as possible. My ex is ill, and in some ways I pity him because he’s stumbling around in this world of paranoia where everyone is out to get him. He genuinely believes I am a money-grubbing witch who intends to ruin him.
Here, where I am paying all the bills, as he doles out funds 2-3 weeks late.
Here, where I let him stay in our home for 3 months before pushing him to find another place.
Here, where I left him the car, kept him on my health insurance.
The walls are bare, and despite the rigor of carpet cleaners, a few stains of living remain.
This was once a home. Now it is just solid walls that echo with the moments of 6 years. Nearly exactly.
I pushed for the things I wanted, and this place was one of them. Ironic, considering that when the process began so long ago, I was determined to make my own happiness. I remember him flinging the loan papers across our apartment at me. Angry because I wanted to read the whole thing before signing and wouldn’t just scrawl my initials in all the appropriate places. Continue reading
Ten days ago I met the eyes of a stranger, a store clerk stacking the deep, ripe crimson rounds of fresh tomatoes. And they smiled.
The kind of smile that eases the lines about eyes, relaxes the furrowed tilt of brows from their intent purpose, and draws a warm, vibrant curve of lip. Unbidden. As if they couldn’t help themselves. Teeth flashed, pale and fearless and easy behind that sudden unexpected, wordless reply.
When I was in my late teens, that smiling aura wisped about me as a wedding veil might, giving those who looked intently the chance to glimpse me beneath it… and see that what they saw at first glance was the kind of thing that looked out even after a second, sudden scrutiny. Continue reading
Ten steps forward, nine steps back. And when that last step lands, the ground is quivering beneath it.
Grasping for stability for so many years, in whatever way I could, it should come as no shock that life is not done rattling me just yet. History tells me that I’ve made it through far worse, that most of these kinds of changes bring about something bigger, and better and wonderful. But in the midst of it all – finding out my parents have 30 days to move – eradicates the small bit of stability I was beginning to feel. Continue reading