I think of that conversation often then over the past week, it seems to have come up several times. I suppose I should write about it and maybe that will release it.
I was talking to a new-ish friend the other day (on Facebook Messenger). We were kind of filling in our pasts as new friends do, catching up on things in our background. She asked me why I never remarried after my divorce. Why did I end up all alone at the age of 62?
Good question. The answer? I guess it was a choice. A choice that I didn’t realize I was making until it was too late. At the time of my divorce, I had three children, ages eleven, eight, and two. We didn’t live near relatives. I had a lot of friends but they were all married with their own family obligations so I had to rely on myself to take care of the every day needs of my children, as well as their long term needs.
And I couldn’t help but remember a conversation I had overheard years before. It was a conversation between my mother-in-law and my husband. We were visiting the in-laws and my mother-in-law asked my husband how his sister was doing. Was there anything new with her? We lived near his sister, about a four hour drive from my in-laws so we were often the go-between because we visited with them more often than she did. He told her that there wasn’t anything new with her. She was still working on her degree and taking care of her little girl. Then she asked about any new men. Was she dating anyone serious? They both went on talking about the “alphabet soup” that she dated. Apparently, in their eyes, she seemed to date a different person every few weeks, never staying with any one man for long. They kept referring to her dates as the alphabet soup and joking about the men. It was obvious to me that, in their eyes, it was a negative thing. They seemed to think that she was concentrating more on her dating than on her daughter.
I thought about it and it made a lasting impression on me. I’ve always been one to worry about what others say. I know that’s not important. I’ve learned it now but in those days, it was important. So when I divorced, I was determined to put my children and their needs ahead of any needs I might have. So I didn’t date. I kept busy with my children and when they were with their father on Wednesday nights and alternate weekends, I visited with friends from my kids’ elementary school. There was a group of us that were all divorced and we would get together at the home of one friend who was married. We would eat and drink and talk and her husband taught us to play poker one night. On weekends I just stayed at home, sleeping in and watching movies I couldn’t watch when the kids were home. Years later, I had a friend from college that would come over on Wednesday nights and I would cook dinner for him and we would talk and listen to music. He would stay the night and leave early the next morning so he could make it to work on time. Once in awhile, I would have alumni functions on weekends so I would attend those and sometimes cook for those. I got a reputation for being a good cook so I was the one that did all the cooking for our functions. I would always go alone and come home alone. I didn’t want anyone to say that I was dating an alphabet soup or that I was ignoring my children’s needs. They were my top priority. Anything I needed or wanted, came last.
And, if I am being honest about it, I was protecting myself from hurt. I had been severely broken, and profoundly hurt when my husband went straight from my house to his secretary’s. Yeah. I thought he was better than the stereotype but I was wrong. So I protected myself by not ever letting myself get involved with anyone. For a long time his leaving us made me question my judgement. How could I have been so wrong about him? And more importantly, how could I trust myself to be a good judge of anyone else?
And here I am. Twenty-six years later. Alone. No pets. No one here but me. Few friends and most of those are “virtual friends.” No alphabet soup for me.
Some conversations stay with us for a long, long time.
Isn’t it strange how we let something like an overheard conversation rule our lives and make our decisions for us? I’ve had a similar experience in that I held on to something I heard my father say to my mother and now here I am, almost 60, wondering why I thought I should live accordingly when it had nothing to do with me at all! I do wish we would learn earlier in life to listen to our own voices rather than those of others. I often wonder why so many of us (most, that I know) have to wait until later in life to learn these things.
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I think I knew what I was doing at the time but I’ve always felt that the kids came first so it didn’t really matter. And I just didn’t want to give myself like I had done before because I was pretty sure I couldn’t survive another rejection and abandinment.
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I’m sorry. I’m sure at the time it felt right, it is only in hindsight that you see that there should have been more emphasis on Corina.
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I’m very proud of my kids and that makes it worth it. Sometimes I wish I had someone to talk to, to confide in, or even to just be in the house at the same time.
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Yeah, I’m sure you don’t regret taking care of your kids.
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It could be that the conversation is so well remembered because it represented the cultural view of the times for many of your family and friends. And as you say, it was very important what people thought, and how you’d appear in the eyes of others. And I imagine that a lot of men at that stage of life would have had a reluctance to start a new family with a woman who already had 3 kids. Of course, if people truly love one another, it can work. But as you see today, a lot of young men don’t have much interest in starting a family. I guess, a lot of young women too. All of us carry a lot of prejudices around with us… we act out certain roles we’re used to, and usually can’t see the possibilities till later. Someone missed out on the chance with a wonderful woman.
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I saw my mom go through the same thing so I guess it was a role I had learned. What I didn’t really tune into was my mom’s loneliness after my dad walked out on her.
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It is amazing how undermining betrayal goes and just how deep it runs. It makes sense what happened with your husband would leave you not wanting to open up and be vulnerable with someone again. That along with not wanting people to perceive you as a bad mother, changed you. I am sorry you did not have a space for a companion/marriage in your life, but being a responsible parent is nothing to be ashamed of.
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You’re right. Being the one parent they could depend on was top priority. It may have been different if their dad had taken in some of the responsibility but that wasn’t the case. I do have three wonderful children that are taking care of their children as I think they should.
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I’m with DailyMusings on this one. A person has only one chance to be a fully present parent to children during their most formative years. IMO, the emotional and situational stability of children still living at home should *always* come first, and I think you’re admirable for having done that. Back when I was dating, I broke up with at least two women who told me after the fact that they’d ditched a child’s school event and/or rescheduled time with a child in order to go out with me. I didn’t mind the kids, but I did mind the bad parenting.
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They’ve always been my top priority. Even now, as adults, I won’t hesitate to help in any way I can. And the pay off is that they know this and it helps them to be better people, better spouses, and better parents. I don’t regret it. It was my join and I carried it out.
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