Our End Started in Our Beginning: Lessons from a Failed Marriage

The signs were there from the start. It just took three decades to understand the implications.

“When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.” This view does not easily align with how I like to see other people. But I am beginning to think I should reconsider.

In my own world, there are days that I am far from the best version of myself so my usual lens is that people are doing the best they can and when they can do better, they will.

In the continued autopsy of my failed decades-long marriage, it is becoming clear that there is more to both of these ideas than meets the eye at first glance.

In the Beginning

My soon-to-be ex and I have a terrific love story beginning. I was dating his roommate when we first met. Our friendship bloomed and the romantic connection with his roommate fizzled. After college, we began dating and exploring if the friendship could be something more.

After a few months of a long-distance relationship, my job relocated me to a place much closer together.

It was a great way to explore what we could become together.

Things were great between us. I was in love and expecting that we would be engaged and committed in a few weeks. Disney would likely pencil in some fluttering birds and scurrying jolly animals at this point in the story.

The Unexpected Truth

One afternoon, I came home from work and found a handwritten letter from him in my mailbox. We had spent the previous evening on a date together and had shared a lovely time.

I noted the postmark was from a couple of days before so my curiosity peeked because we had talked about so many things the night before. What would he need to write me a letter about that we didn’t cover in our conversation?

I opened the letter expecting hopes and dreams for our shared future.

As I read his words, I collapsed onto the dusty gravel driveway a sobbing mess. He was ending it. We had been together the previous night with no sign of trouble or disconnection and he had already sent this in the mail two days prior. It made no sense.

Once I pulled myself together and was able to get back to my house, I sat on the porch swing for hours trying to understand what had happened and how I found myself once again inexplicably abandoned.

In his letter, he talks about how he didn’t believe he was fit for marriage. He thought relationships were too much work and he didn’t think he had what it takes to be a husband to me or anyone else. He wanted to be single.

The next day I called and asked to see him so we could talk. One thing that has been consistent in my life is that I only want people in my life who want to be there. Over the course of our conversation, we agreed to be just friends.

Six weeks later, we were engaged and married six months after that.

Hindsight is 20/20

What has become clear as we have tried to understand how almost three decades have passed is that we each had a different understanding of how we ended up back together after that breakup.

He believed that I accepted that he was not going to work on this relationship and that I was accepting him “at face value.” While my hope is to always allow the people in my life the grace and acceptance of their authentic selves, I had no idea his interpretation was that we would be the same people in our 50s that we were in our 20s. His ideas that you are who you are, there is nothing to learn, and life is just misery are completely different than my views.

I believed that he was joining me for a shared journey and that together we would create a life. I wanted his input into my life as a partner. There is something divine about someone who knows and loves you enough to tell you hard truths about yourself. But the only way that works is if you have given them permission to tell you the hard truths and you are confident they are speaking from a place of love and acceptance.

These pathways are very different.

We survived for as long as we did because it took a while to see how far apart these pathways had taken us from one another. There is no longer a pathway back.

Moving Forward

I don’t harbor regrets for the life we have shared. I am grateful for our daughter and the happy moments that have been sprinkled along the journey. But I do wonder if it wouldn’t have saved us all a lot of pain if I had just believed him when he said he wasn’t “marriage material” rather than assuming he just needed love and solid partnership to help him grow and rise into his confidence.

There have been several rather scathing messages to me on this series that I should be ashamed of myself for trying to change him and not loving him well for being simply who he is.

Believe me when I tell you that there is no need to shame me. My heart has been broken more times than I can count through all of these pathways. Maybe I was trying to change him, but my intention has always been to provide the support, love, and care he needed so that he can be the best version of himself. My mistake was expecting him to do the same for me.

So the unwinding of our lives continues and we are trying really hard to find a way to be friends. We used to be pretty good at that part and hold out hope that maybe when all is said and done, we can find our way back to that pivotal crossroad.

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