This is my second post today, but the frequency of my writing seems to match the intensity of what I’m feeling. Right now, my head is buzzing with thoughts, and the only way to calm it down is to get them out.
When I wrote my About page, I said this blog was a way to document my feelings so that one day I could look back and see how far I’ve come. I’d hoped there would be more laughs to record, but the truth is there isn’t much joy to write about at the moment. And if this is going to be an honest journal, I can’t pretend otherwise.
Earlier, my last post got a like from another blogger whose most recent piece was about the difference between loneliness and being alone. It hit home. When the boys aren’t here, I’m both alone and lonely. When they are here, there’s joy—but even then, I still feel lonely sometimes. It’s the absence of adult connection I notice most. Not deep, hours-long conversations, but those incidental moments:
A small comment about something happening in the day.
A shared smile over something silly.
Knowing there’s someone else moving through the day alongside you.
I used to enjoy my own company. I’m an introvert; I liked my alone time. Now, it feels like torture.
And today, when she dropped the boys off, I could barely look at her. She was dressed in tight clothes and a push-up bra, and I felt something I never thought I’d feel toward her—disgust.
I’ve never been disgusted by someone before, and certainly not by her. But how can you commit to someone for life, build a family together, and then just walk away without a real conversation about why?
Yes, our relationship had flaws. Yes, I had faults. But who doesn’t? Especially when you’re raising two young kids, exhausted, and stretched thin. That’s not a reason to burn the whole thing down.
She’s told me I’ve been kind, thoughtful, supportive, and patient. She’s also told me I can be dismissive and hard to talk to. If she’d been telling me that for years and I’d not addressed it, then fair enough. But that wasn’t the case. She’d said nothing until she’d decided she wanted to leave. Not to me. Not to close friends. And is that really grounds to leave a marriage? To blow apart your children’s home? To me, these are things that can be worked on, but it takes two to be committed to a relationship and if one side isn’t it has no hope.
When I think about it, I’ve met so many couples who’ve had one partner ready to walk—but they stayed. They worked at it. They pushed through the hard season. Why was my marriage different? Why was her answer to “How committed are you?” in counselling a cold 0–5%? That number still makes me feel sick.
The truth is, I need to find a way to move on from this disgust. She’s going to be in my life for the rest of our children’s lives. We are co-parenting, and carrying this around isn’t going to help anyone—least of all the boys.
Questions for you
- If you’ve been through a separation, how did you let go of feelings of anger or disgust towards your ex?
- Is it possible to co-parent well if you still carry strong negative emotions about the other person?
- Do you think understanding why someone left is essential to moving on, or can you make peace without answers?
Dad Mode: Half Time, Full Heart 