My marriage was in dire straits long before the pandemic hit.
On Valentine’s Day 2020, my husband, Mark, and I decided to separate. He packed his belongings and left, while I poured a glass of wine and stared blankly at the vacant side of our closet. I broke the news of our separation to my parents, shedding tears over my crumbling marriage. I had subtly hinted at the situation to our five kids, saying, “Things are tough for Mom and Dad right now, so we’re taking some time apart.” I even confided in my therapist that I was ready to turn a new page in my life. While sitting at a hotel bar, watching reports of a fast-spreading virus abroad, I held hands with a man I had been seeing on the side. By then, I believed my marriage was too broken to salvage. So, I sipped on my Manhattan and envisioned a future without Mark.
Then COVID-19 struck the U.S.
As a precaution, we agreed Mark would return home but stay in one of the spare bedrooms in the basement. We established unspoken boundaries, avoiding each other during the day while gathering for brief family dinners to provide some stability for the kids. We sat at opposite ends of the table, barely exchanging words, and instead of goodnights, we retreated to our separate rooms—him in the basement, me in our master suite. I reveled in my solitude, monopolizing the TV remote and texting my new partner late into the night.
Long before any official social distancing measures were enacted, we had already been living apart emotionally.
Then the stay-at-home orders were implemented. Jobs disappeared, colleges closed, and classrooms emptied. One by one, our adult children returned home. To accommodate everyone, I reluctantly surrendered my personal space and allowed Mark to share my bed again. His clothes found their way back into our closet, and at night, the covers enveloped us both. Yet somehow, we maintained a distance of at least six feet even while sharing a king-sized bed.
One sleepless night, I lay awake, staring at Mark’s back as he slept. I pondered when our relationship had derailed. Was it when I found out I was pregnant shortly after falling in love during high school? Or perhaps when we chose to place that child for adoption, leaving me alone with a heavy burden of guilt?
The unraveling seemed to accelerate with each child we welcomed, as I devoted myself to motherhood while he pursued career advancement. Maybe it was when we agreed to adopt our fourth child, adding to our stress. Or when we re-adopted our birth daughter at eighteen due to her issues with her adoptive parents.
Whatever the cause, affection was replaced with stress; the passion in our marriage had vanished, trampled underfoot. I felt worn out. With Mark beside me, clutching his pillow instead of me, loneliness overshadowed any hope.
Then, surprisingly, our marriage began to heal amidst the chaos of the pandemic.
With Mark working from home, I realized I had nowhere to escape. Initially, I missed the sound of his car keys jingling as he left for work. I reluctantly started including him in my daily life. I made morning coffee and poured him a cup. I went for jogs, and he joined. At lunchtime, I offered him a bite. During happy hour, we reached for a bottle of wine, clinking glasses together. We would binge-watch shows like Breaking Bad, and slowly, I began to cherish these small, shared moments.
Conversations flowed more freely, our hands found each other, and arguments faded away. Our friendship rekindled, and soon, we found ourselves functioning as a team once more. Quarantine transformed into a lifeline for us.
I can’t predict if there’s a happy ending waiting for us. I don’t know if our marriage will endure beyond the pandemic. What I do know is that even in the most challenging times, relationships can mend. Hope can arise from the darkest circumstances.
For now, a divorce attorney hasn’t knocked on our door, and perhaps, just maybe, one never will. Only time will tell.
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In summary, my marriage faced a critical juncture before the pandemic, but unexpected circumstances allowed us to reconnect and reevaluate our relationship. While the future remains uncertain, the experience has shown me that hope can emerge even in the most tumultuous times.