The anguish I experienced was unbearable. In a single year, I had been pregnant, given birth to a beautiful daughter, managed a demanding job, battled COVID, and now faced a divorce—all during a pandemic. It was a chaotic, overwhelming time, and I wouldn’t wish such turmoil on anyone.
While his announcement left me feeling blindsided, deep down, it wasn’t entirely unexpected. For over a year, I had been contemplating a separation and had often mentioned the possibility of divorce. My feelings ranged from anger to despair, influenced by a myriad of factors: the challenges of pregnancy and postpartum, the fear of COVID, the stress of raising two small children, and the constraints of a small living space. The isolation brought on by lockdowns and the complexities of navigating an interracial marriage during a politically charged era only added to our strain. It made me question whether our marriage was meant to last.
Before his announcement, I often expressed my frustrations, joking about whether he would be better off dead or alive (I truly wished him no harm). As I grappled with my emotions, I began seeking resources about divorce, primarily out of concern for our children. Yet, a part of me also wanted to “win” the situation, as if life were a competition. In a world overflowing with information, sensationalized portrayals of divorce, targeted ads based on my emotional state, and an industry that capitalizes on divorce, it was easy to feel lost and overwhelmed.
Gradually, I expanded my search beyond online forums. I delved into books, attended free webinars, listened to divorce podcasts, and sought guidance from a therapist. I also connected with others who had gone through similar experiences, leaning on family and friends for support. As I started this journey with an initial goal of “winning,” I gradually turned my focus inward. I realized that I needed to take responsibility for my actions and reflect on my own shortcomings.
I learned that it didn’t matter what my partner did or how right I thought I was; the only thing I could control was my own behavior. I had been angry for so long that I had forgotten the importance of self-reflection. It became clear that I had to approach my decision about the marriage from a place of self-awareness.
Ultimately, I recognized that I wasn’t ready for a divorce. I wanted to work on myself within the marriage, but ironically, the decision was taken out of my hands on a day meant for love. Perhaps, in the long run, this could be the greatest act of love for myself.
Letting go meant taking responsibility for my actions and mourning the expectations I had for my marriage. I needed to take steps toward a brighter future for both myself and my children. Regardless of who was at fault, I had my part to play in the breakdown of our relationship. I learned that I struggled with setting emotional boundaries, allowing anxiety to dictate my thoughts, and engaging in competitive behavior rather than fostering connection. I often thought I could change my partner, which was an ego-driven perspective that blinded me to the reality of our situation.
Now that I see these patterns, I cannot unsee them. These are issues I must address not only for myself but also for my children. While I wished I could have navigated this journey alongside my partner, I accept that I must do this independently, with the support of the community I’ve built.
I’m grateful for the lessons learned and recognize my privilege as I transition into single motherhood. Nevertheless, I wouldn’t wish the pain of divorce on anyone. In moments of self-doubt, I aim to embrace vulnerability, honesty, and kindness. I strive for continued self-growth and compassion, both for myself and others. And above all, I am learning to let go.