Emma, you and your husband share the blame for the divorce, the therapist said, meeting my eyes.
Im to blame? No! Hes the one who tore our family apart! I snapped.
Emma, when a marriage ends the responsibility is equal fiftyfifty. Not ninetyten or sixtyforty. You both failed to build a proper relationship, she replied calmly, confidently.
What should I do? I have two daughters. My husband loves them, but I hate him. How can I cope? I wanted to trust her, as if she held a magic wand that could set everything straight.
First, settle down, Emma. You cant rush into anything or youll break. Who will look after the children? They need a stable mother, not a hysteric, she warned. Are you thinking of starting a new relationship?
Never! I cant go through another disappointment, I shouted, tears beginning to flow.
Dont be hasty. Youre still young; life lies ahead. Why did you marry?
For happiness, I whispered, sobbing.
Exactly. Everyone chases happiness, yet divorce is common. Schools teach us arithmetic, not marital wisdom. The result is we rush into marriage, then flee in tears when it fails, she sighed. Youth fades quickly.
I tried for the family! I put up with my husband for fifteen years while he was a passive flowersniffer, oblivious to any scent. He grew stale. I cant even look at him now. Our love is shattered, I vented.
Id like to propose an experiment, Emma. Are you willing? she smiled mischievously.
What kind of experiment? I asked, intrigued.
Probably youll want to enter a new relationship after a break. Find a practice boy, so to speak, and use him to rehearse the art of partnership. Learn to live with a man comfortably, she said, eyes questioning.
And where will I find such a fool? I wondered.
You dont need to look. Your practice boy could be your exhusband.
How can that be?
You dont care about him. He can go wherever. Just treat it as a trial. Its a winwin, Emma, she assured.
I decided to try. After all, I had nothing to lose. I wasnt sorry for John, so let him go.
John had become such a nuisance that I packed my daughters, Lily and Poppy, and moved into a flat in Manchester. The court granted our divorce. John begged me to reconsider, but I burned every bridge.
For a while I had no menafter fifteen years of marriage I craved solitude. John started panicking, sending cheap gifts, flowers, even inviting me to a sauna. His attention was belated and exhausting. He still refused to accept the end.
When I settled into the flat, relief washed over me. I felt like I was finally soaring, free as a bird.
Then my girls asked, Mum, why is Daddy at fault?
I was stunned. How could I tell them that life with their father was over, that his words were empty gusts, that the world felt cramped and grey? Thats when I returned to the therapist for guidance.
The experiment began. A month after the split I called John.
Hi, John. How are you? Maybe we could meet? I have a few things to discuss.
Emma? Of course, anytime! Just say the word, he replied, his voice bubbling with excitement.
We met that evening on a park bench. John kept edging closer, trying to take my hand. We talked about nothing in particular. He walked me home, gave a quick kiss on the cheek, and handed my daughters a small treat.
Inside the flat, I looked out the window and saw John still standing outside. I waved, and he sent a playful air kiss.
These casual meetups with my ex were surprisingly pleasant. No fights, no broken dishes, just a gentle colour returning to my days.
We started seeing each other once a monthcoffee, movies, walks in the park. My life felt woven from joy. I began to imagine a future where our paths intertwined again.
A year passed.
John, shall we meet today? I asked, hopeful.
Sorry, Emma, Im busy. Ill call you when Im free, he said, hanging up.
That happened three or four times. Anxiety crept in. Had someone else taken his place? Was he seriously involved with someone else? Jealousy flared, and I needed answers.
I called him again.
John, the girls miss you. Lets take them to the zoo.
I have a wife in the maternity ward, John breathed out.
What wife? Are you kidding me? I shouted.
Its not a joke. Were expecting a baby with Lily, he replied.
I was speechless, left with only one word.
Goodbye. I wish you all the happiness you can find.
The experience taught me that seeking validation from a former partner only deepens the wound. True contentment comes from accepting the past, caring for the children, and building a life on ones own terms. In the end, the healthiest relationship is the one we nurture with ourselves.
