When my parents separated at the age of five, my life turned into a whirlwind of change—moving across states, attending multiple schools, witnessing their attempts to reconcile, and ultimately, their divorce. By eight, my father had remarried, continuing to be part of my life, but I often feel that I was primarily raised by my mother alone, especially after she moved back across the country. My visits with my dad became limited to summers and school vacations.
Both of my parents were good people who loved me, yet my childhood was marked by instability, anxiety, and shattered expectations. While I truly believe that their divorce was the right choice for them, I can’t ignore the shadows it cast on my perception of marriage and family.
Today, I find myself in a marriage that stands in stark contrast to my parents’. My husband, Jake, and I have been together since high school, celebrating 22 years of companionship and 14 years of marriage. Unless some unforeseen disaster strikes, I can’t imagine our relationship ending. We are devoted to our two wonderful sons, and we navigate parenting as a team.
However, deep within me lies a lingering fear that everything could collapse, just as it did during my childhood. It’s irrational, yet it persists like a nagging itch or an unhealed scar. You’d think I would have outgrown these feelings, but life isn’t always straightforward.
Most days, I manage to embrace my role as a wife and mother. Motherhood is undoubtedly challenging, but there are moments when triggers from my past transform me back into that scared child. Mornings, in particular, can be tough. My husband leaves for work before we wake up, enveloping me in a sense of impending doom as I prepare the boys for school. The fear of lateness looms large, making me feel inadequate as a mother.
I often retreat to the bathroom for a moment of solitude, only to hear my children arguing. Sitting there, I feel completely isolated, convinced that I am carrying the weight of the world alone. When my son complains about the heaviness of his backpack or resists going to school, I become overwhelmed, feeling like my own mother, burdened and struggling to keep everything together.
When Jake returns home, even the simplest disagreements can escalate into fights. He might forget to take out the trash, and suddenly we’re in a cycle of blame and defensiveness. Instead of resolving the issue, my mind spirals, wondering if this is the beginning of the end for us. Could our marriage be more fragile than I believed? Am I fooling myself?
As a child of divorce, I find that minor inconveniences can trigger disproportionate worries. The feelings of loneliness and helplessness can quickly magnify, making me believe that the good moments in life are always just a breath away from being taken from me.
Over the years, I’ve become more adept at recognizing when I’m slipping into old patterns, living in the shadows of my past rather than in the present. Each day, I work on embracing my role in my adult family, which is distinctly separate from my childhood experiences. I remind myself that every new day is an opportunity for gratitude and growth.
Yet, the echoes of my childhood remain in my heart. My focus now is on nurturing that little girl who once felt lost and heartbroken—showing her that life holds more than the pain of her past. There are second chances and beautiful moments waiting to be discovered.
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Summary
Navigating motherhood as a child of divorce can be challenging, with remnants of childhood fears creeping into daily life. While I cherish my stable marriage and wonderful children, the past often resurfaces in unpredictable ways, reminding me of the struggles I faced growing up. By acknowledging and nurturing my inner child, I continue to work toward a brighter future for myself and my family.
Keyphrase: motherhood through divorce
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