I caught a glimpse of the ex the other day. We had to be in the same place and cordially stayed on opposite sides of the room. He always keeps his back to me when we are in these situations but I always sit facing him, daring him to look into my eyes.

I feel nothing for him ~ towards him ~ about him. I just want to be able to look into his face and let him know that I’m okay with all of this. Words are not important to me in this case, just something to finish it with some level of dignity.

I understand that this seems crazy but this has been important to me for a long time. HE left me. He left our kids and didn’t look back. He took off with a ‘friend’ and treated us with scorn, derision, loathing. He made me battle with him for Child Support and I always won in the end. I learned patience and tolerance and how to turn the other cheek. I grew strong and unbreakable but I never became brittle or embittered.

I see things differently I suppose. I look back at this as the best growth spurt of my life, one that I was forced to do alone (I had no family around me). I had to stand tall and be the best role model that my children could follow.

But my bottom line is that I am so thankful. Thankful to Denise for taking an abusive partner off of my hands. Thankful to the judges that gave me my 60% and custody of the children. Thankful to my friends who walked beside me in the darkest of days. Thankful to him for donating his sperm for these beautiful young adults. Thankful that they have inherited his perfectionism and his determination.

I am thankful because without having him in my life to rock it and roll it and try to bury me, I would never have known how amazing I am.

So when I saw him the other day ~ and I saw how ravaged his face had become, I almost wanted to touch it. Not because I love him but because I LOVED him. I wanted to go to him, to smile at him and to cross those angry days off of my life’s calendar. I want him to have a good life ~ to be good to our children and to stop loathing the girl that he never quite knew. I want the anger to be over.

My heart is calm, I am replete…

Namaste, Maya

Divorced Women Online Social Network. The new social network for the divorced or divorcing woman. A safe place to ask advice, share war stories and connect with others who have “been there, done that.” JOIN NOW!

More Articles:

Do You Pursue Your Heart’s Desire?

How do You Handle Adversity?

Stop, Hey – What’s That Sound?Unresolved Legal Issues Pulling You Down

As a child of divorce I suddenly have an urge to talk about something that lies very deep within yet can be scratched so easily…

I hated it when my kids would ‘have’ to go to their dad’s house.  They’d pack, half reluctantly, half excitedly ~ and I think they’d pick up on my emotions and act accordingly.  Looking back it wasn’t fair to them.

It turns out that my dad only left us to save his own sanity.  It wasn’t that we were impossible or that my mother was a shrew, it was more that he was cornered, paralyzed like a deer in the headlights ~ and to leave was the only way that he could breathe again.  Even as a child, I understood that.  The events that had preceeded his departure were soul destroying for him and I understood even back then.  But then again, kids do their best to understand why dad left ~ and it was easier for my sunny disposition to make it into an escapade of delight, untainted by the ugly words that my mother (bless her heart) never uttered.

My brother had just died, my dad’s beloved marina, where he had spent the previous 15 blissful years ~ had been sold by an unscrupulous uncle and my dad was without a solid base.  His job as a used car salesman was driving him insane and he longed for freedom.

If my sister and I hadn’t gone to him and given permission for him to leave, he would have stayed ~ and withered away to nothing ~ just to maintain the status quo.  But I also inherited his restless spirit and I could see it fading out in his eyes.

My mother did a stellar job of ending her marriage without rocking the boat.  She picked up and carried on without blinking an eye, determined to keep her home safe and happy for the two girls still in school.  She never said a word about my dad and she taught me exactly how a woman does this with dignity.  I wish I had followed her lead in the early days of my own divorce but I am not as solid as she was and I had a bit of a meltdown before reclaiming my grace.

But my dad ~ as I came to understand many years later ~ was more lost than we were.  He followed his dream and became the skipper/captain of a fleet of yachts belonging to an affluent family.  His enforced alienation from us created a longing in him that he journaled every evening.

While he did go on to marry several times and sail the Atlantic coast, his empty heart was like an anchor dragging in the bottom of the ocean.  He wrote beautiful letters to each of his children and made us promise to keep our eyes on one another, to keep him informed, to carry on and to not forget him.

Yes he left.  Yes my little heart was broken.  Yes I envisioned his empty Christmas’ and I did my best to fill him with letters every week.  I loved my dad, despite his ‘abandoning’ his family.  What he thought, what he said ~ what he felt ~ all were important to me.

I write this to remind you that ~ in the heart of your children lies their dad.  He’s human, he’s gone, he’s made mistakes but he’s their dad.  They love him no matter what.  Please remember that when you speak of him.  Please remember that when you look into their eyes.  I’m still that child who misses her daddy because while he left the family home, he could never leave me.  He’s in my blood.  He IS me.

More Articles:

Growing Up and Growing Apart
Self-Loathing and the Cheater
To Tell Or Not To Tell About His Affair

I’m not going to bore you with that stuff ~ not this time, but I wanted to share something that came my way that helped me steer my personal ship into a safe harbour.  It’s not for everyone but it definitely worked for me and ~ if you’ve ever had the idea, it might work for you, too.

My safe harbour came in the form of an eight year old boy.  My children were growing up too fast and were moving on, taking their own roles.  When my daughter flew off to explore foreign lands there was a hole that burned inside of me that could not be filled.  I was aware that I could not replace my daughter, my light ~ but I knew that noise and clutter and busyness would help me find my way through that lonely silence.

I filled out the paperwork, I started taking the classes, I went through the police check and interviews and still was terrified about taking on someone else’s cast-off child.  I had my first look one afternoon and saw a beautifully faced, messy haired, scabby kneed urchin who looked straight through me with intense disinterest.  My heart hurt for him, wondering what was going through his mind and ached for me, with the absence of my daughter.

The Department put us together slowly and on a bright day in early summer, he took residence in my daughter’s room.  Because I’ve been a teacher for many years, I laid down my laws, knowing full well that it’s better to start out with strictness and detachment than the warm fuzzies.  He stared right through me and mumbled ‘Yes Maya, no Maya’.  It took us six months of circling one another before either one of us gave in to the understanding that the other one was really better than okay.

He didn’t want me to come see him on parent days or grandparent days, he didn’t want me to come to sports days or to work in the canteen.  I knew that he had been joined by a dozen other women who stood in his room in the guise of a parent and it would have been so hard for him to explain yet another one. He ignored me when I set up my chair at his soccer games and pretended like he didn’t know me when we went to the mall.  But somehow love worked its magic and we found ourselves laughing at one another and easing up on our suspicions…

So it worked for me.  He’s been with me for four years and we are tight.  He is a permanent placement and I believe that he will always see me as his home.  Hopefully he’ll return every year during college holidays and when he has his own family because we are one.  If I could adopt him, I would but I can’t so I encourage him to spend as much time as possible with his spread-around large family of 24 siblings.  They have all become part of my family and we are really happy together.  I’ve found a purpose with these beautiful Thai/Australian children and they’ve found a home in mine.

Just a thought…
More Articles:

Coming Out of The Shadows
Older Wiser and More Beautiful
Bad Men Bring us Gifts