You know you are headed for divorce when…
Most of my readers are separated, divorced or unhappily married men. Some readers are also happily married men and women, who come here not to read about how to make a marriage work (clearly I am not qualified to do so), but because of our shared narratives. What I write about is making good decisions so you can be a great dad for your daughter regardless of your marital status. Assuming you have no standing court orders defining the limits of your decision, I will advocate that your happiness and your ability to be an emotionally present and loving father are your primary goals, regardless of the trials and tribulations of your on-again/off-again and probably soon-to-be dead marriage.
For me, the first sign of distress was a crumbling of communications. It became harder to talk. Things were misinterpreted and misunderstood. A rift was already emerging and I wound up having to explain and convince. We were critical. Defensive. And frustrated. Asking for the littlest thing felt like seeking permission and a struggle for power. There was a lot of giving-in done out of exhaustion, defeat and apathy. Intimacy had long been extinguished and the dreaded roommate phase became the norm. It was an awful existence to be raising a young child in that household and living like that was a betrayal to myself for playing a role which was not the person I am.
Failure of counseling and an absence of genuine desire to heal signaled a lack of commitment. This must come from within, not without. I should have seen the writing on the wall long ago. My marriage wasn’t for me to fix and my wife wasn’t for me to save. Our marriage’s end was just as much as her doing. But now, I am a far happier single man than the latter years as a married man. And without worrying about being a good husband in a bad marriage, I can focus on being an awesome dad.
The second sign of distress was the onslaught of contempt which followed the cold war. I am certain that my ex resented me for many things I had done or not even realized I had done. I countered with the same amount or more in resentment. She had lost my trust. My contributions to the family were marginalized and devalued. Notwithstanding my continued financial support which was taken for granted, my ex had started to hide money.
The third and final sign of distress for me was the failure of counseling. Up until this time, I was still willing to reverse the rising tide. Miscommunications can be repaired with dialog. Contempt, like acid, can be neutralized with sustained rebuilding of trust and positive reinforcement. But failure of counseling and an absence of genuine desire to heal signaled a lack of commitment. This must come from within, not without. I should have seen the writing on the wall long ago, but as a glutton for punishment and thinking that I can fix a relationship, I pressed on through three counselors over a span of two years spending thousands of dollars. In our last session, I gave my still-married-wife some very basic non-negotiable conditions for me to stay in the marriage: couple time, shared finances and stick up for each other—motherhood and apple pie stuff. She refused. I remember saying out loud in the counselor’s office at that moment, “Then our marriage is over”. That week, I called my lawyer and started drafting a Separation Agreement (which is the most important post-marital document that will govern all post-nuptial matters especially when children are involved). I continued with therapy for a couple more months after that. Even now, I would check-in like I would an annual physical. I’m generally happy and require nothing more than a brief chat now and again. And for most of the time, we talk about my other priorities.
It’s been years since the divorce was final and our daughter is growing up to be a well-adjusted young lady—with an attitude to match. She doesn’t remember much of our time together as a family but I fill her head with good stories told from pictures and impressions. I miss the good ol’ days when things were good. But when things were bad, it got so bad that no amount of good days can make up for it. I realized perhaps too late to save my marriage that I shouldn’t have given-in into my impulse to fix the marriage. It wasn’t for me to fix and my wife wasn’t for me to save. Our marriage’s end was just as much as her doing. So I did the one thing I knew I had complete control: I sought to save myself. Contrary to a common practice of staying together for the kids, I did the very opposite. If I didn’t exit, I would be miserable and would make everyone around me dysfunctional, too. It sounds counter-intuitive, but there’s a reason why in crises, even flight attendants would tell you to put the oxygen mask on yourself before helping others including children. You can’t help anyone if you are not fit to do so. Now, I am a far happier single man than the latter years as a married man. And without worrying about being a good husband in a bad marriage, I can focus on being an awesome dad.