It’s Special
I’m not a bird watcher, but when a large bird snatches up a fish from a lake, I take notice. I stop to gaze in wonder.
This is what happened. I was on a walk around the lake. And as I stood there taking in the moment on a somewhat isolated trail, in a somewhat remote location, a person on the parallel trail, over the barbed wire fence behind me was also taking notice. He stopped and watched too. “Wasn’t that cool?” he asked with excitement.
Turning around, I responded, “yes!”
That person happened to be my ex husband. The person who has avoided eye contact for six years was coincidentally standing 15 feet away and had just shared a moment of connection with me over nature’s wonder.
We were both shocked to be caught in a moment of unplanned vulnerability. It was evident in his face and in my words. His mouth turned down. My eyebrows lifted up. We were both surprised. I shuddered as he quickly shifted the moment from connection to an opportunity to scold me for trespassing on private property.
“Hey, we just had a moment there,” I said, pointing out the obvious. “When do you think you’ll stop hating me so much that we could have more of these moments?” I asked, pleading.
Isn’t That Special?
We have a special relationship, my ex and I. And I don’t mean the good kind of special. I mean the angsty, hard, triggering, complicated, emotional, strange, kind of special. It’s a relationship with all kinds of expectations, attachments and anger that are incredibly hard to navigate. Perhaps a better word would be contentious or maddening, but I couldn’t help the sarcasm instilled in the word special, thanks to The Church Lady.
I’ve heard about divorced couples who co-parent successfully, and some who are even friends. That’s what I wanted. That’s what I hoped for and tried for with my apologies and invitations. That’s not what I have. Unfortunately for me, I have something very different.
Unfortunately for the kids, they also have something very different. It’s quite sad. And it’s created a predicament for me. This is the only relationship in my life that doesn’t provide a personal and immediate benefit to me. This is what makes it unique. And this: kids are the only reason to have a harmonious relationship with your ex.
The complexity and challenge of the situation is that the kids don’t even know about all the interactions I have with their dad. It’s like a blind faith that if I am kind to someone who sometimes talks to me like I’m an eejit, the kids will receive some sort of benefit from it. Like osmosis, or some crazy shit.
During interactions with your ex, it takes an enormous amount of discipline to control yourself in the moment of anger or frustration, knowing that any kindness towards them may or may not even get back to the kids. It’s a delayed and often unseen benefit that kids of divorce receive when their parents get along. And it’s the truest test of being a good person – or being an asshole.
The divorced relationship challenges all other relationships in which there is normally an immediate reaction and consequence or payoff for your behavior. Within a divorced relationship, the consequence to an angry encounter or even a positive one, is delayed. It’s delayed to when the kids find out, or the friends start talking.
It’s Expected
I know what you’re thinking. There’s a lot of pain here. You are correct. And sometimes the pain of divorce is more powerful than the joy of celebrating your kids with the only other person in the world who loves them as much as you do. That pain is exemplified by expectations.
So when his pain is revealed in his tone or behavior, he has a so-called, “reasonable” excuse. That’s what divorce does. It creates all kinds of excuses for behavior that would otherwise be considered inappropriate.
There are unspoken expectations with someone you’ve been married to and have children with. But the expectations are contradicted by the ease at which the pain resurfaces. When you have loved someone, raised kids with them, and the relationship goes to hell, it creates the perfect storm of anger, resentment and hostility.
Whether you want to believe it or not, the expectations that were formed by the marriage often follow you into divorce. This can be incredibly hard, especially when kids are involved. You expect that as the child’s other parent, you will be honored for this simple fact, regardless of how the marriage ended. And it can be incredibly difficult when you don’t even want your ex in your life. You expect that they should still honor you, even if they’re hurt and even if you don’t honor them. It’s the purest form of treating another person the way you want to be treated – and asking nothing in return.
It’s Not Like That
Sometimes I wish society would stop showing divorced families blending like sweet cream on TV. It makes me want to vomit. I think, it’s not always like that! Then I think, maybe my ex is watching this, seeing how it’s supposed to be between exes. Maybe he will see this and want to blend our new lives like that. Maybe I should send him that podcast – yes, I have sent him podcasts. But then I remember that for us, it’s not easy. For him, it can’t be like that. I’m in a relationship with his former friend.
And because I left him, it creates a perceived imbalance of acceptable punishment and payment. Divorce settlements are 50/50 regardless of whose decision it was – by Colorado law and by common sense law. But just because it was my decision to end the marriage, it doesn’t mean it was all my fault. Even if he was perfect, and I still didn’t want to stay married to him, I shouldn’t have to. And no one should want me to.
It’s the Worst
Divorce brings out the worst in people. Take my word on this one. You become immature and childish, suddenly wanting to be the favorite parent. And suddenly wanting people to choose you.
It’s hard to give your ex the benefit of the doubt. It’s hard to have the other one’s best interest in mind. It’s a situation where so much has already been lost, it’s hard to imagine losing any more. So when your ex pushes your buttons, you want to push back. You think what else can I lose? No one’s listening, you think. I’ll tell him how I really feel this time. But in the back of your mind is always the thought that he’ll tell the kids or the former friends what you said. And that it will be repeated out of context, without you there to defend yourself.
Sometimes, all the logic and reasoning in the world will not change the way a person feels. I can’t convince him to forgive me, even after numerous apologies. I can’t convince him to sit down and have a beer with me, no matter how many times I invite him. And even when I praise him to the kids, it doesn’t change how he treats me, because it’s not like they tell him what I say.
Unfortunately, at this point. I’ve run out of options and I’ve given up on time (it’s been six years.) I am left with this: I will continue to speak kindly of my ex in front of the kids, whenever possible. I will keep waving to him when I see him and the kids aren’t around, even if he just looks the other way. And when the kids mention his good qualities (yes, he has a few), I will agree with excitement. I will try not to say a bad word about him. After all, I wouldn’t respect or admire anyone who spoke unkindly about my dad. And I desperately want the respect and admiration of my kids.
The Way It Goes
As I often do when I write, I have come full circle. It seems that the kindness I show my ex does affect me, because it affects my kids. And the way I treat their father is a direct reflection of my love for them.
This is what I know. Having a harmonious relationship with your ex requires some basic things: two emotionally-intelligent, selfless, individuals who can put their own pain aside for the benefit of the kids; mutual respect for each other; and kindness. If one person is unwilling or unable to be kind and reasonable, the whole thing goes to hell, just like the marriage did.
In my case, that unwillingness is his boundary. And that boundary is clearly stated in his reaction toward me. If nothing else, the relationship I have with my ex has taught me about boundaries – demanding them and respecting them. If I care about him, which I do, I will respect his boundaries. That means I no longer initiate unnecessary conversation or invitations for beer. Because when I push him to “just get over it,” I am not being kind.
The Way It Is
The bird watching moment was just that. A moment. When he realized it was me, our moment of connection ended abruptly. He made it clear that we will never have the blended family I have dreamed about. I realized that by expecting him to get over his pain before he’s ready, I am not being respectful or kind.
The next time I saw him, he still walked away from me. And it’s okay. I will give him space. I will no longer push him to get over it. I will no longer pursue a relationship with him or criticize him for not wanting one with me. We are both grieving a loss. We are just doing it in different ways.
Postscript: Some of you may be asking why I continue to write about this stuff. Let me explain. This is my life. This is the hard shit I am constantly trying to figure out. I express it here to seek understanding and to create conversations that result from my writing. I write these things so that others who are dealing with the same thing will feel a sense of belonging. I don’t expect that my ex is reading it. It’s not for him. And I don’t write to defend myself. Also this – it’s lonely dealing with hard stuff.