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Monica Bielanko
A chronicle since 2005 of my marriage & move to Brooklyn in my twenties; becoming a mother in my thirties; moving to Pennsylvania and learning to amicably coparent after divorce in my forties while living 3 doors down from my ex-husband in a small country town.
That's What She Said
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Monday
Aug142017

Blood Red Sentimental Blues

The fucked up thing about it is that because I was the one who initiated divorce he indisputably became the heartbroken victim. My broken heart, although equally savage, is constantly written off as my choice.

"You're the one that wanted the divorce," is the glib response when I express valid hurt over a devastating outcome related to the end of my marriage and life as I knew it.

I didn't choose divorce. Who wants divorce? Isn't it considered the worst possible outcome for both people involved in the relationship? It's the worst thing that ever happened to me, the hardest thing I've ever experienced. Divorce eventually became the only option. And if you don't get that, if your knee-jerk reaction is that I "didn't try hard enough," then you don't understand how relationships work. It's a stupid, offensive statement.

So maybe I'm not as far along as I should be in the grieving process. Maybe I will never get to where some people think I should be at this point in time. Maybe I'm just fuckin' nuts. Regardless, no two divorces are even remotely alike and what I feel about the end of my marriage and the divorce that took its place is my response to my own very personal experience. His experience, even though it's in relation to the same divorce, is not even a relatable experience. He's struggling through his own divorce experience that, from my vantage point, doesn't resemble mine at all. No one else will ever know the intricate ins and outs and myriad fucked-upness that seem insurmountable to me a lot of the time. There is no timeline for what you're supposed to feel when. Just try to survive to the end of the day and call it a win. I lost today.