Updated: Oct. 17, 2023
Originally Published: June 2, 2015
About eight years ago, I found myself unceremoniously inducted into the Divorce Club—trust me, it wasn’t by choice. I like to joke that I was perfectly happy in my marriage, but my ex-husband and his new girlfriend clearly had other ideas. Depending on who I tell this to, I either receive knowing laughter or nervous chuckles.
Since then, life has thrown a barrage of challenges my way. As a stay-at-home mom for over a decade, I wasn’t exactly swamped with job offers when I re-entered the workforce. The financial aftermath of the divorce was brutal. For five long years, I fought tooth and nail for child support while simultaneously losing my house, my credit, and a significant portion of my sanity. While foreclosure and bankruptcy might be seen as character-building experiences, let me tell you—they’re far from enjoyable. The emotional toll? Equally exhausting. Trying to raise four children while scrambling to keep a roof over their heads was no small feat. Add an ex-husband who seemed to swoop in and out of our lives like a whirlwind, leaving chaos behind, and it was a recipe for stress.
But we survived. The kids are doing well; two are in college and two are in high school, growing into remarkable individuals who make me proud every day. As for me? I’ve put in the hard work to create a sense of safety and stability. I often write about divorce and have become a sounding board for others seeking advice and reassurance. Many want to know if they, too, will be alright, if they’ll navigate the hurt, humiliation, and sadness that often accompany a breakup.
And here’s where I owe those folks an apology.
I’m the one waving the flag of resilience, sharing stories of survival and growth. I preach about the power of forgiveness and the ability to move on. I’m the one responding to desperate cries for help with messages of empowerment, proclaiming things like:
- “You’ve got this, sister!”
- “Absolutely, it hurts like hell, but you WILL rise again!”
- “One day, seeing him won’t feel like a dagger in your back.”
I brag about how well parallel parenting has worked for me, claiming that essentially ignoring my ex-husband has made everything peachy keen. Well, I’m here to confess: I might have been a tad disingenuous.
Let me explain. A couple of weeks ago, I unexpectedly ran into my ex, and I didn’t exactly handle it like a person who’s fully healed. Instead, I reacted like a moody teenager—actually, like a temperamental toddler.
Here’s the backstory:
I work late three nights a week at our elementary school, which operates a before- and after-school childcare program. There needs to be someone in the office until closing for security, and I’m usually the one holding down the fort. That evening, I was minding my business—making copies, filing, and entering data on various spreadsheets—when I noticed a figure outside the door. I hurried over to let them in, only to be greeted by my ex.
I froze. Like a popsicle. Did I mention he had his toddler with him?
It felt like a scene from a movie, except instead of dodging bullets like Keanu Reeves, I was wishing the ground would swallow me whole. Our eyes locked, and I could see the shock on his face. My expression? Let’s just say it was not my best moment. It was as if I’d just stepped in something unpleasant, barefoot.
Neither of us said a word. I mean, what was there to say? I could have played it cool—“Hey, how’s it going?” or maybe even “Fancy seeing you here!” I could have opted for snarky comments, but I didn’t. Instead, I just made that awkward face.
After he left, I found myself shaking—not from the cold, but from a mixture of nausea and embarrassment. I felt ashamed for not being able to muster a simple greeting. Here he was, out enjoying time with his child while I was wrapping up a grueling workday and feeling all sorts of inadequate.
On the drive home, I ranted to myself, berating both him and myself. When I got home, my boys were out with friends, and I was left alone with my emotions. I texted my best friend and shared everything. She listened, offering comfort. I poured myself a martini and sat on the porch, allowing myself to cry for a while.
So much for “moving on,” right?
After this embarrassing encounter, I had a few realizations. First, maybe the whole parallel parenting thing isn’t as effective as I thought. If I had to interact with him more regularly, perhaps I wouldn’t be so shocked when we crossed paths. Second, I need to be honest with myself and those who come to me for guidance: I’m not as strong as I claim. This healing journey is tough, and some days are harder than others.
As I often tell others just starting this journey, it’s okay to mess up. We’re all going to be alright. And now that I know what my true reactions look like, it might be time to retire that awful face.
If you found this story relatable, check out our other blog posts for even more insights into the journey of motherhood and relationships, including resources on home insemination. This article from Make a Mom is an authority on the topic, while Resolve offers excellent resources for pregnancy and home insemination.
Summary:
In this heartfelt reflection, Sarah shares her unexpected encounter with her ex-husband and the emotional turmoil that followed. Despite her confidence in navigating post-divorce life, the encounter reveals that healing is a complex journey. With humor and honesty, she emphasizes the importance of self-forgiveness and acknowledges that everyone experiences setbacks along the way.