As I sit on my bed, hands tucked beneath me, I can hear my parents exchanging hurtful words they can never take back. The sound of their arguments often drives me to scream or cry, sometimes both. When they aren’t fighting, they avoid each other entirely, and that’s the only time there’s peace.
I prefer it this way—when they’re apart and I don’t have to tiptoe around their volatile relationship, uncertain of what might happen next. As I grow older, I promise myself I will never stay in a relationship out of obligation to my children. I often ask my mom why she did, and she tells me I won’t understand until I have kids of my own. She was right.
My relationship began with complications—an unexpected pregnancy at 20, one partner’s quick temper, the other’s unpredictable moods, and a stubbornness that kept us from hearing each other out. While those traits may sound common, in our case, they reached extremes. His temper would lead to harsh, thoughtless words, while my mood swings left me guessing which version of him I would encounter, always hoping for the best. The good times were bearable, but the bad ones were chilling.
Many couples our age would have ended things early on, during those tumultuous first years as we navigated parenthood and attempted to maintain a relationship when one of us wasn’t fully committed. We convinced ourselves we had no choice but to stay together for our child. During arguments, I would turn cold while he lashed out, but the mantra remained: stay together for the kid.
Unlike others who had the ability to express their conflicts openly in front of their children, we managed to suppress our issues. I thought we kept our disagreements hidden out of love for our son, which was true, but it was also about preserving the image of what we believed family should look like. My partner’s parents had married young and remained in love, while my own had divorced when I was just six. We were both determined to avoid that kind of failure.
As time passed and we attempted to work through our issues, we made the decision to have another child, believing it would strengthen our family bond. Perhaps we thought it would distract us from our problems, or maybe we simply wanted our son to have a sibling. I can’t pinpoint the exact reason, but I can confidently say I have no regrets about it. Our second child gave us the push to confront the harsh truth: our relationship was not meant to last.
The arrival of our second child only added strain to our already fragile connection. We waited, and waited, hoping things would turn around, but we rarely communicated, never touched, and our intimacy faded away. The love that once existed was replaced by a friendship devoid of warmth. Yet, we maintained a shared sense of humor and common beliefs, but that alone wasn’t enough. Our fundamental flaws still surfaced, and when they did, they burned fiercely.
I clearly remember the moment of realization. I understood that if I stayed any longer, I would lose myself entirely, becoming an unhappy mom and leaving my partner an unhappy dad. I wanted to be a happy mom. That summer, just before my eldest was to start kindergarten, I felt the weight of my childhood memories—especially knowing that I was the same age when my parents divorced. It was a now-or-never decision; if I didn’t act soon, I would remain stuck until my children left home.
We tried everything—reading relationship books, talking, yelling, crying, and even seeking counseling. After several sessions, our counselor told us we were one of the most mature couples she had ever met and that we were making the right decision to separate. The validation felt comforting, but I was also scared. This was real.
After years of denial, we finally acknowledged that we needed to prioritize our happiness for the sake of our children. We recognized that we could be better parents living apart. We wanted our kids to witness a healthy relationship, filled with love rather than tension.
We decided to live just five minutes apart, allowing our eldest to maintain stability in his life, and carefully planned how to break the news to him. We divided our belongings with a sense of detachment, yet behind closed doors, I often cried—mourning what could not be salvaged. The day I signed the lease for my new apartment, my hand shook, but I felt a surge of confidence as I made my choice.
When I first stepped into my empty apartment, I sat on the floor and smiled. I took a moment to breathe in my new beginning, apprehensive about my ex’s feelings but secure in my decision.
In our case, staying together for the kids wasn’t the answer. We were mature enough to navigate the confusion and emotions that come with separation, and we embraced the challenges of co-parenting. Even when conflicts arose (and they certainly did), we maintained composure and mutual respect in front of our children.
Today, I feel fortunate to share my children with a man who is also my friend, and while we may sometimes clash, we quickly remind ourselves that our relationship now serves a different purpose—one focused on our children. It’s important for us to put our kids first, and when disagreements arise, we assess whether they truly matter or if they’re just distractions from our shared goal of raising happy children.
Sure, there are risks to maintaining a close co-parenting relationship, including the temptation to revisit old feelings. We’ve acknowledged this but chose not to pursue that path. My ex and I still have our moments of irritation, but we have forged an alliance that proves that not staying together for the kids can lead to a healthier, happier family life. Our kids are thriving because of it.
For more insights into parenting and family dynamics, check out this helpful resource, or explore our other articles, such as this one on home insemination.
Summary
This article reflects on the author’s experience of choosing to separate from her partner rather than staying together for the sake of their children. Through navigating the challenges of co-parenting, the author emphasizes the importance of mutual respect and prioritizing happiness for the well-being of their kids.