My Crumbling Marriage Made Me Bitter

My friend’s comment woke me up.

I sit on the beach with my friends. Things have been deteriorating in my marriage. The more I talk the less my husband listens. My words now escape to others.

More than I think they do.

“Some think you are becoming bitter,” says my friend.

“You can’t say that to Colleen!” says his wife.

“No,” I say. “I’m glad he told me that.”

My beautiful friend is too kind and sweet to tell me. She knows I’ve changed but she doesn’t want to hurt me with the truth. Her husband and I are childhood friends and like family. He says what I need to hear.

Because I can’t hear myself.

My sharing has evolved into venting.

I am bitter.

I’ve stayed in a failing marriage too long. My happiness has turned to sadness. It’s been followed by tears, pain, denial, excuses, outrage, anger, and frustration.

I began by hiding our problems.

The sweet Colleen everyone liked.

It worked until it didn’t.

My husband wouldn’t work on our marriage. I wouldn’t give up. Our emotional contradiction caused resentment. When he began acting out and drinking things escalated.

We jumped on the marital hamster wheel, a trademark of struggling couples.

A Different day, same argument.

A cycle of repetitive and unresolved issues again and again.

I landed where long-haul unhealthy relationship go-ers end up. The emotional fork in the road. You want to make a decision. You really do. But you can’t. It’s a battle to the emotional death between head and heart.

Unfortunately, it’s a well-matched duel that proves never-ending.

I love my husband one day. I hate him the next.

I am happy one day. I am miserable the next.

I want to leave him one day. I want to stay the next.

The back and forth is exhausting.

At first, you can’t take it. But you settle into misery because too much is at stake. This is the love of your life, your best friend, your family, and your children.

Who could possibly make this decision?

Who could be responsible for this great a loss?

Who could risk this kind of love?

Who could tear apart a beautiful family?

So I stayed.

Because I was afraid to make that decision.

I was afraid to give up on who I thought was the love of my life. I was scared to break apart my children’s home. I was fearful of change and starting over. I was terrified of the unknown.

I was overwhelmed by repeating history.

Bitterness overtook me while I wallowed.

While that attitude was well-earned and deserved it was ugly.

It cost me a lifetime of self-respect. Because I could now hear myself thanks to my friend. I had become an unpleasant version of myself. I couldn’t decide who I hated more for it. My husband or me.

He had ignited my bitterness.

But I had fed it.

With every day I remained in a broken and unhealthy marriage. With every denial. With every excuse. With every redundant argument. With every ugly exchange of words.

With every refusal to acknowledge my truth. With every determination to rescue a one-sided relationship. With every tenacious refusal of my situation.

I did that.

And I ultimately paid the price for it.

Sitting on a beach one day.

With people, I love and respect. Being forced to view a different me than the one they signed up for. I gave away my joy and my self-respect and the friend they were worthy of.

To a man who was never worthy of me.

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