Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Married and Divorced by 30


So today I did it and it was so, so very easy. I initiated the meeting and began the conversation of telling my husband I wanted to divorce. I had been having dreams about him for the last two weeks. In a lot of the dreams I was cussing him out, once when I was ovulating we were actually having sex! Whatever the content of the dream was, my subconscious was telling me it was time to deal with it. It had been two years since we separated and had any conversation about our relationship. Severing any relationship—especially a marriage is not easy. If children are involved then of course there is no complete disconnection but a new way of relating—as parents solely and not lovers.

Why had I waited so long? Because I was afraid. I had been the one to choose our separation; he wanted to work it out. As a Black woman to have been the one to break up your family is a hard pill to swallow. In my mind, it was as if I was standing in front of a counsel of old grandmothers with them asking,

Dem- Is he cheating on you baby?
Me-  No.
Dem- He beat you?
Me- No.
Dem- He got a job?
Me- Yes.
Dem- Then what the hell is wrong with you?!
Me- I’m not happy.
Dem- (Raucous, uproarious laughter) Chile, PLEASE!! Get outta here before we throw the shoe at you! Happy? Ha! Get real! Nobody’s happy chile!!

To leave a marriage because you were unhappy seemed like some white woman’s shit. An honorable discharge from a marriage for a Black woman usually involves more drama. Drugs! Domestic violence! Multiple baby mamas popping up around town! A nicca that can’t keep a job and leaves you to foot the bill for everything! All real life shit that my mother and plenty of women around me experienced. My reasons were more esoteric. I want a man who is my spiritual partner. A man who is actively on a journey toward higher evolution. Some of them were more womanist—for lack of a better word. Why do I have to be in the house all day taking care of the baby while you get to deejay parties, play basketball and interact with the world? I often felt like a single mother though I was in a relationship. But honestly none of this was his fault. It was none of our faults. I never articulated what the hell I wanted in a relationship, what I thought my family should look like. I was operating without a vision, reacting badly when things were not going my way. 

Slowly, I started to realize that this was not the intimate life partnership I wanted. I realized that I in fact had never really dated or experienced any other relationship. I had always been very serious and goal oriented. As a teen and in my early twenties, this made young men run. All my energy went into me and I accomplished great things because of it. While other young girls were getting finger fucked, I was leading the debate team and winning writing contest around the country. In fact, when I met my husband I was a virgin at 21! I was suffering from chronic play it “safe” good-girl-ness . So I wanted to experience more of life, more of myself. I wanted to be free....

I was questioning all of the beliefs I held dear. When I married him, I also married a spiritual community. A global community with temples around the world. Hard to explain unless you’ve been in that community or ones like it but it was like changing your citizenship. My whole way of thinking, living and breathing literally changed. It was beautiful and intense but I began to feel limited. I needed out of there too. I needed to experience other traditions and find the path that is right for me. I started having religious affairs and began checking out other systems. I even had an emotional affair and began to desire another man. That turned up the heat in my marriage real quick!

Things were falling apart, so I left him. I left the people eating tofu, chanting and wearing all white (though I still chant, sometimes eat tofu and wear all white). It was hard. Hard because I felt bad that I hurt someone who I cared about. Hard because my son still cries sometimes when his dad drops him off. Not the gentle tears rolling down the face quiet crying. No. Full out tantrum, stomping on the floor top of the lungs screaming, “I want my daddy!” crying. Hard because I knew that despite it being hard, this is what I needed to do.  So all our interactions over the past two years were limited to conversations about our son and the few remaining financial connections we have.

Until today.  Today we met and I told him that I harbored no negative feelings toward him. I do not blame him for our marriage going wrong and asked that he forgive me for anything I did to him. Especially not telling him how I was really feeling. I told him how when we first met I was very, very young and inexperienced at relationships. I didn’t know what I wanted and now I’m finding that out. I do not regret our relationship and was happy to have learned from it. He echoed my sentiments back to me. He too was young (we still young, lol!) and inexperienced. He holds no ill feelings toward me and no regrets. I took a sigh of relief as the air between us began to clear out and breathed in to push out my next declaration. As I stammered getting out the exact words he said with a smile, “Yeah, we gotta get the divorce.”

I was relieved. No screaming, no crying. No finger pointing. We spoke about our terms and came to agreement. It was so easy. No need for child support orders or over paid lawyers! Shout out to 60minute.com! Their slogan is, “Got an hour? Get a divorce!” We will be going there next week. We have promised to work together for the best benefit of our son because no matter what, we are still family. And you can’t divorce your family, we are in each other’s lives forever.  


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