Someone asked me a while back: What was the thing
that shocked you most when your husband left you? I’ve been putting my response
off for a while, to the point where days of avoidance have turned into weeks. I
think I was a little fearful that raising old memories might hurt my heart all
over again, but I’m actually sitting here laughing at how ridiculously horrible
we can be when we’re parting ways with our partners. If I could give one piece
of advice to anyone about to end a relationship and break a heart, it is simply this: Be kind.
That said, here is my answer…
As any jilted
wife will tell you, having your husband leave you for another woman is unbearably
painful. There’s the heartbreak and the humiliation to contend with, but there
is also plenty of shock value. It really is an experience that just keeps on
giving.
There were many things that shocked me when X walked out the door… Firstly there was the
initial horror of realising that he had been fully engaged in another
relationship for quite some time, to the point where he had obviously been
mapping out a whole new life for himself.
Then there was
the realisation that our 17-year relationship really was completely over and
there would never ever be any going back – X had absolutely no intention of
returning and I was officially separated and a single parent.
But the thing
that shocked me the most was how he suddenly started treating me as a complete
hindrance to his happiness. I was no longer his loving and loyal wife or
someone that he cared deeply about; instead I was an insufferable pain who he
now had to endure on a regular basis as we began the process of shared
parenting and headed down a one-way street toward divorce.
From one day to
the next I was quite literally discarded and told by X that he had
“transferred” his affections. Apparently I was no longer attractive to him, we
had little in common, I was too old for him (there’s a six-year age gap), I was
an imperfect mother and I just wasn’t needy enough.
I had been lied
to, cheated on and dumped, but it was entirely my fault.
My personal
favourite parting comment, however, was that he had NEVER BEEN IN LOVE WITH ME!
Obviously those magical feelings he had developed for the girl from work were
so overwhelming that the previous 17 years of our lives no longer held any
meaning or currency.
He seemed to
forget that he had relocated from London to live with me, that we travelled the
world together, made lifelong plans, celebrated our marriage on two continents,
bought our first home together and were both completely ecstatic when our first
son was born. He had also clearly forgotten about the love letters he penned
every week when he was overseas studying, and the beautiful things he would make
for me when we were apart for long periods.
 |
| Made on a UK beach by the man who had never been in love with me. |
There were times
when the situation was just laughable, like when X would arrange for me and our
boys to have some “family time” with him, but he’d spend the whole time texting
his new love. Needless to say, I put an abrupt end to these pseudo family
outings – they were untenable on so many levels and I just didn’t want to
spend any more unneccesary time with this man I no longer seemed to know.
My diagnosis was
that X had a bad case of being in love with love… A fatal disease that kills
good and honest relationships, builds new relationships on sandy foundations and
leaves behind a trail of heartbreak and destruction.
All I could
wonder at the time was: At which precise moment were his affections transferred?
And exactly how long had our relationship been a farce? I remember yelling at him on more than one occasion: "You watched me give birth to your children!"... Not that it made an ounce of difference.
Initially it was
excruciating to think I had become nothing more to X than the woman he had
children with. This man I had been so devoted to was treating me with absolute
contempt and did everything possible to exclude me from his life. But as time
passed and the sessions I spent with my counsellor became more focused on me
and less on him, the pain subsided. Unexpectedly meeting another man just a year after X
left me also went a long way toward piecing my broken heart back together.
Even though my
heartbreak had been cured, for a long time it would still hurt whenever X said
anything remotely nasty to me – sometimes it still surprises me that he has
been quite cruel but seems to live without remorse. I’m of the opinion that he
still needs to apologise to me for the way our relationship ended, but am not
holding my breath. And as my counsellor so reassuringly said: “The Universe will apologise to you on
his behalf.”
Nearly nine years
on, my skin has thickened and the impact of X’s words is pretty minimal these days, and
nothing about his behaviour really shocks me any more. I’m actually extremely thankful
he left me and was so utterly awful in those early days – he made it pretty easy
to fall out of love with him and his actions led me directly into the arms of a man more worthy of my heart. The Universe seems to have said sorry in the most perfect way, and I'm willing to accept that.