His phone rang early that morning, waking us both up. After a short phone conversation, he got out of bed and into the shower. I was exhausted and knew I could sleep a couple more hours before needing to start my day, but I got up and went into the kitchen to make coffee for him before he left for the day. As I walked, exhausted and wishing I was still sleeping, the realization became so clear.
I was married for almost 11 years. We built a life together, created a home together with our three beautiful children. We lived through a very long list of lies, betrayals, money struggles, differences in lifestyles, and infidelities that I could easily recite as the reasons our marriage ended. But in the chilly kitchen that morning as I watched the coffee stream into the pot, I knew that my marriage ended before it began.
This isn’t a story of why my childhood ruined my ability to have a real relationship, or everything my ex did wrong, or any of the other excuses we tend to use to absolve us of our personal dysfunctions, real as they may be. If I wanted to rely on the mistakes of other people to cushion the fall when my relationship crumbled, there would be a pillowy soft mattress of excuses and justifications there. But the recipe for our relationship’s destruction was one I had mixed up long before I met and married my now ex-husband. I hadn’t taught myself to believe I deserved to be cared for, and I never allowed myself to believe I needed to care for him. I was not able to be honest with myself, about myself. Without care and honesty, I couldn’t be in a loving and real relationship. Instead of recognizing what I needed to change to make our relationship grow, I saw only what I thought he should change. I did it all wrong.
I never took care of my husband. I was so busy all of the time - busy with school, work, being pregnant, raising babies, health issues, friends, extended family. In complete honesty, I stayed busy to avoid caring for him. Caring for him, loving to care for him, was intimate and vulnerable. I loved him, sure; I was his wife. I took care of everything in our lives, which I hoped would be enough for him. But I didn’t take care of the only things that actually mattered: me and my husband.
In the years since my divorce, I choose to find the courage to be honest with myself, about myself. I have discovered so many parts of myself that I didn’t know existed- realizing my greatest strengths and my deepest flaws, exposing exactly who I am without fear or apology. Learning slowly that I deserve to be cared for; adored even. I have learned happiness isn’t something you find after a lot of hard work, it is a very real part of you that is carried inside of you all of the time. I have found that I absolutely love caring for people. I find so much joy in anticipating the needs of those I love, and making time to do special things that will show them how much I care for them. Caring sweetly for others is what brings my greatest joys and opens my heart.
My marriage ended years ago, and I have forgiven myself and my ex all of the lies and hurts that led to our divorce. Even more importantly, I have forgiven myself for not caring. I am constantly surrounded by love, and I so grateful for those in my life that show me love. I know that one day, I will be in love again. I will make him coffee before work, because I want to him to feel cared for and loved. I will soften to his touch because I know I deserve to be cared for. I will know that being soft doesn’t mean I am weak. I will let down my walls, allow myself to be open and vulnerable with him. And I will truly care for us both as we grow in love together.
