Marriage and Relationships
I found this post by Annie Mueller last night, and related to a lot of what she said in it.
I'm currently going through a divorce myself, after being with my partner for almost exactly 18 years (that's dating and marriage). Luckily, we've been keeping things amicable, but damn, does it hurt nonetheless.
Like Annie, I met my ex-husband in my teens, though I was a fresh high school grad at the time. I had been in a few (shitty) relationships before, and thought that because he was better than the others, he was "the one."1 It wasn't until the second half of 2024 that I realized "better than the others" did not equate to "the best kind of partner for me."
I'll not get into the nitty-gritty details here, but suffice to say, our communication styles and pictures of happiness differed greatly. We did our best to work at things for months, but we kept coming back to the same impasses time and time again. Eventually, I left.
I'd always said that my ex was, first and foremost, my best friend. Honestly, I think we work better as friends than life partners. We've been keeping relative distance since I left, but we have chatted some. Right now, those chats have been bittersweet for me: on one hand, it's great to have a glimpse of my best friend again, on the other, I don't want to lead him on, or make him think that I may eventually go back to him. Not to mention the reminder of the constant pain in my heart; the mourning of our relationship.
This part of Annie's post resonated with me the most:
The pain of separation was visceral. I was fully committed to us, and had not bothered to keep any parts of myself separate or safe. I don’t think I could have even if I’d tried. We met so young, we married so young, and I hadn’t learned how to maintain myself while being intimate with another. I was quite binary2 in my relationships: off or on, in or out. Separating felt like emotional psychological disembowelment. Like a ripping apart, with all my tender insides spilling out, in pieces. Keeping myself separate and slowly disentangling my life, and then my self, from my marriage was excruciating.
When it comes to disentanglement, I have it easier than a lot of people going through a divorce: we had no kids, no shared property or bank accounts, we kept our possessions largely separate, neither of our health insurances were tied to the other's job, etc. But emotionally? I can't even begin to count the number of times I've wailed at the top of my lungs, sobbing my eyes out, mourning and re-mourning the end of our relationship.
I, too, am glad I was married, like Annie. As she said, it was "a special, unique experience." But at the moment, I don't think I'll do that again.3
For the record, I no longer believe that we only have one person we're destined to be with for our whole lives - hell, I didn't even really believe it when I was with him. I thoroughly believe that we have many people who are meant to be in our lives for various reasons: romantic partners, sure, but also friends/found family, people who teach us lessons (both in positive and negatives ways), people who challenge us to grow, and probably other categories as well.↩
The only thing binary about me! 8D I'll... see myself out.↩
Serious relationships? Yes. (I'm actually already in one with a long-time friend) I'd be open to having some sort of dedication ceremony some day as well. But legally-binding marriage? Not something I'm dreaming of right now.↩