Just Not the Marrying Kind

That's what Math-Rat (the ex-husband) said to me, with a straight face, after 30 years of marriage.  He demanded to be set free of the marriage because, "whoops!  Just not the marrying kind, after all.  So sorry for the inconvenience."  Actually, he never ever, once, said he was sorry, so, let's not give him that much credit.

And, of course, he's living with, owns a house with, is in a long-term relationship with, a younger woman who has two children of her own.  He's not legally married, but he's married for all practical purposes.  Gosh, who saw that coming?  (sarcasm filter off)

I, on the other hand, was completely invested in that (dysfunctional and dangerous) marriage.  No, I was completely defined by it.  Heaven knows, there is plenty to explore there, about how and why I let that happen.  But that's not today's task.  I was so very married.  And then I wasn't.

And I'm still not.  What's up with that?  I realized the other day, in a strange epiphany while washing my hands, that I have chosen the single life.  It didn't just happen to me.  I have a feeling that walking this path is part of what I was put on this earth to do.  (I have a feeling that Math-Rat is in a relationship because he's avoiding figuring out the answer to that same question.  I try not to think about his path, but apparently I could try somewhat harder.)

Mark Twain famously posited that the most important two days in your life are the day you were born and the day you figure out why.  I have not quite had that second day, yet, but I think I'm getting there.  In the meantime, I know that I have so much personal work to do in order to become the person I imagine myself becoming, that I don't have time or energy to also be tending a relationship.  I think I would just step right back into putting the relationship and the other person first and I would get sidelined -again.  I don't want to participate in my own marginalization.

But, phrased more positively, I can live my most authentic life alone.  Once I climbed out of the cave of despair and fear that his leaving threw me into, it's really been pretty great.  I like coming home to the quiet.  I don't have to plan meals that someone else will eat, or plan events that someone else will like.  I choose what will make me happy, proud, safe.... whatever.

I guess it turns out that I'm not the marrying kind.

Which is not the same thing as saying that I have this whole thing figured out.  This is not a "look at my perfect life" mommy blog.  This is more like an "oh my lands, how do I get everything done and meet my own standards?" blog.