Coming to Terms with my Separation

It’s been about three months now since my husband and I separated, and I’m finally starting to accept it.

I couldn’t understand why God would bring us together, just to let us fall apart. I couldn’t understand why He would allow us to have three beautiful, bright, wonderful children to grow up in a broken home. I couldn’t understand…

But I don’t get to understand. And I don’t get to fight it. I can’t control anyone by myself–and that includes God, and my husband.

The point is, it doesn’t have to make sense to me. And it doesn’t. None of us gets to know everything. Sometimes we just have to ride the ride and see where it leads.

As of right now, it’s leading me to a better relationship with my children and my family. It’s leading me to a beautiful house out in the country–our dream home–where my kids can play in the road and stay outside all day long. It’s leading me down a path of self-love, self-acceptance, and self-discovery.

I’ve had so many people tell me how much better I seem without him. How much healthier and happier I look. It’s probably the makeup. And I wish I could feel what they seem to think I feel. I do feel it, I think, I just don’t want to let myself.

Because then what happens?

What happens when I am better of without him? What happens when I am happier, and healthier?

I’d feel guilty. I do feel guilty. Guilty for being happier without him–my husband, the father of my children. Guilty for living in sin. Guilty for moving on and starting a new chapter.

But the story will move on with or without me. And this story isn’t about me. This story is about three children who, through no fault of their own, have found their worlds turned upside down. This story is about a mother and a father who love each other but don’t know how to be together anymore, after so much pain and trauma and violence.

This is a story of resilience. Of love. Of life after love, and pain, and drugs, and divorce.

This story is mine, but it isn’t only mine. And it will continue to go on whether I continue to write it or not.

So I must.

My husband and I are separated, for better or worse, and I’ve accepted that. And now it’s time to see what happens next. And who I really am, and who I really can be.

This story is mine, and I’m taking back the pen and the ink and I’m writing my own ending, with a little help from my friends, my family, and God.

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