End of the Road

Relationships die, we know that, but it still comes as a shock each time we hear of it, especially when it involves people close to us. This year, two of our friends closed the doors on their respective marriages. When I heard the news, my knees turned to jelly and I had to prop myself against a table until I found a proper seat. We had known that something was not quite right in both relationships (don't we all have that in varying degrees) but it was never articulated.

What happens when a marriage actually ends? Not much, really. The full force of the hurricane would have ended by then. It is the months leading up to that final demise that plays host to, probably, the most turbulent times in one's life. The fighting, the tug-of-war, the mud-slinging, the torment, the plotting and scheming, the vengeance, and every dirty trick known in interpersonal dealings come into play, until one day, when finally, one or both parties realize that the damage has become irretrievable. This is a profoundly sad realization but that which brings with it a skewed kind of peace, a quiet one. It might be similar to the relief one might experience at the end of a war, or at the death of a loved one who had a long, drawn-out battle with a terminal illness. But then the process ends--that's the relief.

And yet the aftermath is never easy.

I asked my go-to-person, psychologist, Sophie Bate some questions. Incidentally, Sophie is one of the most insightful, most nurturing, most trustworthy people I have ever met (she holds counseling sessions). I have met a number of psychologists and psychiatrists and Sophie is someone who is really attuned to the human condition. Few have made as much of an impression on me and so I seek out her opinions from time to time. Anyway, I asked her if there are merits in staying in a troubled marriage for "sake of the children" (pardon the cliche). She said sometimes, it's best for marriages to break up because the children learn to live with the "unreal" and that they carry this woundedness into their adult lives. Transparency is still ideal; it teaches children clear concepts of boundaries in what is and is not acceptable, what is and is not tolerable or respectable behavior, which ultimately, is tied up to their sense of self worth.

I asked her again how one is to know exactly when to walk out of a dysfunctional relationship. and she said, "One will know. He/she will move; his/her heart will move, and from that point on, there will be no comebacks. No matter what his/her partner does, it would have been the end of the road already. And that partner would have been a fool for not having seen it coming."

Sad...

What of the kids...Raising children is already universally difficult. Imagine having to do that in a hostile environment of warring spouses. Often I ask myself why I persist with this blog about mid-life and motherhood when I'm not on any inside track, when I have no earth-shattering insights, and no mind-boggling revelations. I coast along just like the rest of us.

If you do find yourself in this situation, please get a darned good lawyer.