A little over 10 years ago, he announced to me that he understood why men kill their wives and children. He had just lost hundreds of thousands of dollars in the market, doing stupid day-trading. He lost everything. This was around the same time a man killed his family for the exact same reason.
A little over 10 years ago, we were fighting in front of my little boy, who was 3. He had his hands over his ears. Suddenly, he tore his little chubby fingers away from his head, scrunched up his face and cried, “You know what guys, it’s all my fault.” He blamed himself. My baby. The first 3 years of his life was filled with screaming and yelling and parents who didn’t get along. And he blamed himself. We stopped arguing and ran to him.
A little over 10 years ago. After fighting. And wishing you dead. Of being miserable. And eating away my misery in boxes of cereal and goldfish crackers. I had an epiphany.
We deserved more.
My children. Me. We.
We deserved calm. And happy. And peace. Which wasn’t going to happen while we were together.
So I took my children. I made a choice for my children. And on behalf of my children. Because I am their greatest advocate.
And we left you. Sitting at the kitchen table with your mother. Not realizing that we were never coming back.
And 10 years ago today. My attorney filed the paperwork.
10 years ago today.
I took my kids on a journey. One they didn’t ask for. One they didn’t want.
It was hell what my son went through. His unnatural and unusual closeness to his father. He longed for his daddy, even when he was with him.
I worried about making my children statistics. But really, non-divorced families are sadly becoming the statistics and we are the norm.
And my babies. 3 1/2 and 1 1/2. Went blindly, trustingly…with no choice really…on this journey.
10 years later.
So much has changed. For me. For the kids.
10 years later.
Nothing has changed for you.
I’m sorry for you.
But for me, I celebrate.
Because 10 years ago today, I got a life.
And you still haven’t.