When I was growing up I would always tell my friends I wasn't going to get married. I explained how, if I wanted children I could have them without having a husband.
When I was in my early twenties my friends started getting married. I was asked to be in their weddings and I would watch and help them plan.
That's when I got that stupid little bug in my head that kept telling me how I should be wearing one of those big white dresses while a church full of people looked at me.
I didn't belong in a church! I insisted I was atheist in the 1980's. What was I thinking when I walked down the aisle of a Catholic church?
I often wondered if the only reason I married the person I married, was simply because he was there around the time all of my friends were getting married.
In my heart I new he wasn't the person I was going to spend the rest of my life with. I now know I got married because I wanted the event, but not the life that came after.
I realized I think about my ex-husband a lot. I don't have any fond memories of my time with him. I'm sure there were some good times, but they've faded from my mind.
Quite frankly, he's repulsive to me now. The life he's chosen for himself is the sorriest thing I've ever seen. If I never had children with this man I would never have to see or hear about him again. And that would be fine with me.
But I did have children with him and they talk to me about him and I just hate the way he communicates with them. The strangest thing about this is they frequently don't speak kindly of him and there are times when the things they say are incredibly rude and disrespectful. I don't care if they are legal adults, as their mother I scold them about speaking of their father that way even though I know if it were reversed, he would not do the same.
It occurred to me that the reason I do think about my ex-husband is because of MY guilt. I entered into a union I knew was not going to be a permanent one. I had children with a person I knew to be of questionable character.
When I was 14 years old I knew what was best for me but when I was 24 I convinced myself otherwise.
Is there a moral to this story? Probably to just follow your instincts. When you don't do what your heart is telling you, many people can get hurt as a result.
Or, when people make mistakes that affect your life, learn from it and make the best choices for your own piece of mind. Being angry and bitter just piles one mistake on top of another.
I would love it if I could have conversations about my children with their father but I can't. It would be great if I didn't feel uncomfortable and/or full of rage when I come in close proximity to the man, but I'm not.
What I'd really like is to be able to move beyond this ancient history.
