I’m Tired of Talking About My Ex

I’m having difficulty writing about my version of what went wrong with my marriage. Not because I don’t know what went wrong but because I’m sick and tired of talking about it. It’s over. There’s no more to talk about. I’m so done with all of that already.

I may not have been totally in love with M when we met and first started going out. However, I’ve always been the type to be totally devoted to anything I’ve committed to. When I agreed to marry him and raise kids with him, I dedicated my existence to my family. They were my life.

I gave up my friends, put my dreams on hold; my interests took a backseat to their interests. I worked really hard to keep everything together. I took care of the kids, thought I was a good friend and wife to my husband, and I even provided for the family. I acted as mother – with the domestic and emotional duties – and also as father – with being the breadwinner. M stopped working to figure things out for over a year, and then he went back to school to get his degree full time.

I loved him more than others can say they loved their partner. I was completely faithful (in all sense of the word), loyal, caring, supportive, and everything else. I’m just not the right one for him.

Two years after he graduated from school and he’s found a well-paying job, M discovered a whole world apart from me. Good for him – not so good for me. Let me be the first to say that, yeah – I thought he was an asshole. Typical for weak people to use others... But, I allowed it to happen. I don’t really think of him that way any more but I did feel that way at the beginning of the separation.

In all honesty, nothing happened that wasn’t really my doing. I allowed myself to be weak. I willingly sacrificed a lot of things unnecessarily. Looking back now – I think I was pretty pathetic. All those things I said I wasn’t going to do – I did them.

Did I love him? Yes. Was I in love with him? No. Do I want to get back together with him? Not a chance. I really like who I am without him. Just like how he enjoys himself a lot more without me. Nothing went wrong with the marriage. The union was wrong right from the start. It was not a bad experience nor was it a bad relationship. It was tolerable and could even be considered a fine marriage. But I’m not content with mediocrity. Nobody should.

I am now rediscovering a lot of the things I gave up before that I really like. I no longer define who I am by the relationships I have. I define myself by my thoughts, words, actions and deeds. I define myself by my weaknesses and how I overcome them, and by recognizing the mistakes I’ve made and correcting them. I define myself with by the quality of relationships I have and how well I do whatever work I take on. I also define myself by how comfortable I am with myself, being by myself, and looking forward to those few moments when I can be alone.

Just like right now…