Alone

My feelings about being alone are complicated.

When I was married, I was alone a lot. Tyler would travel at least once a month, and was gone all summer, every summer. We didn't usually talk on the phone while he was gone. Emails, once in awhile... that was all. I hated it-- because we were married. I wasn't supposed to be alone. I was bitter and I resented that I always had to care for Caroline alone.

He would eventually come home, and there was always a period of... adjustment. Our apartment is small, and it seemed so much smaller with this big other person suddenly in it all the time. I would be used to my quiet evenings of doing whatever I wanted, and he would come back and intrude on those. We would annoy each other. He would retreat into his work, sit on his laptop. And I would be lonely again... except we'd be sitting in the same room. I would wish that he would go away again.

Maybe I just wasn't very good at being married.

Now I'm alone for real, and I'm supposed to be alone. I have to admit that I really enjoy it. I like keeping my apartment, my space, exactly the way I want it. I like putting Caroline to bed and spending my evenings getting ready for the next day, relaxing, chatting with friends if I want to or just being quiet and not having to cater to anyone if I don't feel like it. On the evenings and weekends she is with Tyler, I spend time getting work done at school or out socializing with friends. I thought I would get lonely eventually, but I really haven't. I've built this new life where I've become closer to my friends and my parents and my child, and I don't miss having that husband, that partner. This is surprising to me. I'm more of a loner than I thought I was. The realization is almost a relief.

I have zero desire to go looking for a new partner. I have zero desire to accept any of the offers I get from any of the men I meet or know, and I am not trying to be conceited but simply stating a fact when I say that I have had many. I am just not interested; I am content. I've never been single like this, and now that I am, it's kind of addicting. There's no drama, no anger, no uncertainty, no expectations, no disappointment.

Long-term, who knows? Maybe I will get lonely. Or bored. Maybe I'll meet someone who makes me want to change the way I live. Sometimes I ask myself if I want to live like this forever, and I cannot come up with an answer. I don't know yet. Maybe I do. But right now I am in no rush to change anything-- I'm just... living. I don't think I have ever been able to say that about my life before. I've always been missing something, wanting something else. It's such a strange feeling, to be content, to be at peace.

I think I'm onto something, here, for me. And I certainly don't want to change it anytime soon.

So, I have a confession

Ah, internet. You and I are pretty tight these days. (That's what she said.) Let me confess something to you.

I try not to do too many trainwrecky stereotypical just-divorced type things. You know, like stay out too late and drink too much with my girlfriends on weekends I don't have Caroline... or make out with a very cute younger man... not that I've done either of those things, ever. Anyway it's not like he wasn't legal or something, gawd. But on occasion, you just have to do something crazy. This weekend was one of those times.

I went and got my nose pierced.

To be fair, it wasn't that spur-of-the-moment. I've toyed with the idea of getting one since college, but never had the balls to go for it. I figured, now's the time, right? I found a place that looked clean and had this hip art-gallery vibe to it, and walked right in there and got a needle stuck through my nostril. Ten minutes later I was back on the street with this thing in my nose, walking past a psychiatrist's office back to my car and thinking that the shrink would possibly have been a better call at that juncture? But hey, whatever. Seize the day, bitches.

And I kind of... love it. I think I'll love it even more when I can take the initial stud out and put a teeny little sparkle in there. I'm turning 27 next week, I'm divorced, I have a child, and yesterday I woke up and I just really, really needed to get my nose pierced.

So I just went ahead and did it. It's funny how a tiny piece of metal can make me feel like a whole new (and totally badass) me.

I think she's gonna make it.

So, I don't write too much about Caroline lately. It's all, me me me, blah blah blah, divorce divorce divorce. Let's talk about her today.

She's an awesome little kid. I worry so much about how all this has affected and will affect her, but really, she's doing great. She has this hilarious belly laugh that she busts out all the time, regardless of whether or not anything is actually funny.

She talks constantly, always narrating everything around her. I call her Captain Obvious. I go to get her in the morning, and after she dances a happy dance around the crib (just because I walked into the room and she hasn't seen me in like, hours), she names everything in the room and instructs me on exactly how to prepare for the day. "Mommy's here. Caroline's here. Blanket. Crib. Pooh Bear. Change diaper now. I peed. Dry diaper now. Okay zip jammies. Now get cereal. Bowl. Spoon. Pour milk. Top on. TOP ON MOMMY. TOP ON-- Okay put milk away. Get in highchair. Eat cereal." She's like one of those circular breathers... you know, those coworkers who never stop talking and you can't figure it out, but you suspect that somehow words are still coming out even while they are breathing in. Except unlike with coworkers, I freaking love it when this kid does it. Even at 6 am.

She also has so much empathy for other people... for a two-year-old, anyway. I am constantly amazed and touched by it. I've been pretty sick with bronchitis for about two weeks now. I was lying on the couch watching her play with her dolls, and she came over and said "Get up Mommy." I said "Caro, Mommy doesn't feel well today. Mommy's sick." She stared at me for a minute and then leaned over and rubbed my back and said "Mommy sick. I rub the back." She's also seen me use my inhalers so much lately that whenever I have a coughing fit, she runs and gets them for me and tries to push them into my mouth. Maybe she'll be a rich doctor and I'll totally have it made. She is gonna put me in such a bitchin' nursing home when I'm old and decrepit.

She has so much personality for such a little person. I love her fiercely, with my whole heart.

So... I think she's gonna be okay. I already see so much promise, so much intelligence and kindness and just plain old awesomeness in her, and she's still so little. I know that her family is technically "broken", and her mom is awfully busy with all the craziness of dental school and single motherhood in general. But you know, I think she's gonna make it.

Enough for now.

So, I'm getting a lot of comments and emails asking me about reconciliation. Don't think that this hasn't been the topic of much conversation between Tyler and I lately, because it has...

But there's a lot of stuff that has happened between us over the past year. Too much to reconcile, for the moment. We've always had trouble seeing eye to eye, but there is one thing we agree on at this point in our relationship: there is too much pain, too many open wounds, for us to move forward as partners right now.

We also agree that at some point down the road, once we have healed, we would both be open to entering counseling again and rebuilding our family. But not right now... we know our limits.

I took apart our family. We are divorced. I knew what I was doing and I would not have done it without a damn good reason. Those reasons are still there and they are still valid... the hard choice is still the right one. And while sometimes, I think we both get caught up in the fantasy of repairing it all and living happily ever after... I know I am young, but I have lived enough to know that this life isn't a fairy tale and that the two of us are only human.

Someone asked me what happened after I melted down in front of Tyler the other day. I will tell you. He stood there and stared at me and Caroline as we both sobbed. He tried to take her from me so that she wouldn't see me breaking down, but she clung to me and would not let him. Other than that? He watched. He did not reach out to me. He did not comfort me.

I think this is a sign of two things. First of all, that too much has happened between us for him to take one more step toward me, and I cannot blame him for that. And secondly... that is just Tyler. That was just one of our many problems... he is an unemotional guy and does not deal well with any display of feelings (good or bad). It made me remember those basic incompatibilities that led the two of us to where we are today. For whatever reason, he cannot reach out, and that makes me more upset, and the cycle repeats and drives us further apart, and we are both miserable. I ended things so that that unhealthy pattern wouldn't continue... among other unhealthy patterns, of course.

To him, I am emotionally unstable and overly demanding. To me, he abandoned his family for his career and treated his wife like a piece of furniture. Neither of us can live that way, and really, who's to say either of us is wrong?

I'd like to see where it goes, but deep down I know that he is still him and I am still me. Someday, we agree, after time passes and after the healing... it is possible. Nothing is off the table. Only for now, it's all too much.

So. Enough. We move forward, he and I. We both have to let go. For now.

Big news!

Big blog news, that is.

I'm excited to announce that I'm officially going to be blogging for Parents.com! All of my content from Unexpectedly Expecting will be moved to my own page within their site, and I'll be posting there several times a week. The change should happen within the next month or two, and I'll of course link the new site from here (once it is up) so that you can follow me there.

It won't change what I'm writing about-- it'll be the same blog, just more frequent posts and at a different location. I'm so psyched! Thanks everyone, for being my readers, motivating me to keep blogging, and helping create this awesome opportunity for me. I love you all!

Pain

I have led a pretty privileged life. Middle-class white girl from the Connecticut suburbs, expensive private college, dental school. I never had too much reason to feel pain, aside from the occasional teenage heartbreak. Until my divorce.

I don't know why it has taken me so long to hit me so hard that we will never be a family again. But that simple, cold fact is, for some reason, causing me so much pain these days, far more than when we separated, far more than the days leading up to the official divorce. It hurts more than any number of physical injuries I've ever had, more than the appendectomy I had when I was 15, more than childbirth with a non-working epidural. I have never felt such pain in my life, and I never hope to again. It weighs on me, it suffocates me. It makes me feel like I'm being buried alive.

The problem, the reason it hurts more now, is this: We took time apart. We got divorced. We detached, to some degree. And now we spend time together again, like a family, every day since he's been back from Arizona. And it's normal, and it's fun, and Caroline is so happy, and it's...

Killing me.

What did I do? I tore our family apart. I burned it to the ground and walked away and refused to even glance over my shoulder. Was this entire journey for nothing? I feel like I can't think, like nothing I write is making any sense. What was the purpose of this incredibly painful year? To give us our freedom from a relationship that was poisonous for both of us? Or to serve as some kind of catharsis, so that our family could be reborn without all the anger and pain and conflict?

Why is this even an issue? I walked away without a second thought, back in September. Why am I grieving like this now? This afternoon he was here and I couldn't take it anymore, and I completely melted down. I swore I'd never cry in front of him again. Yet there I was, crying the ugly cry, sobbing as I sat on the floor and my child screamed with her arms locked around my neck because she doesn't understand why mommy is so sad.

I have never felt such pain. I don't know how to make it stop. I thought getting divorced would do it.

It hasn't.

Regret

I spent some time with Tyler yesterday.

I'm technically on my spring break, although it hasn't been much of one since I've been seeing a couple of my patients and also developed a nasty case of bronchitis. Anyway, Tyler was back from his trip so I picked Caroline up early from daycare and brought her down to his place and we took her to the beach to collect seashells, which she loves to do. And we talked, and spent the evening together, and didn't fight.

These days, I struggle more when we don't fight than when we do. It is so hard not to see this other life where we repair everything that went wrong and fall in love again and live happily ever after. I am afraid to see that life because once I get things in my head, it is really hard for me to un-see them, and I just put a whole lot of people through a whole lot of pain to win my freedom from a dysfunctional relationship.

It doesn't help that whenever I go to his place, just being in the house he lives in causes me so much pain. We had rented this house and were supposed to move there together last September. We were so excited to have more space and more light and live in an actual house instead of an apartment complex. But then everything happened, and I couldn't, and so he moved there alone. Every time I'm in that house, I feel like I'm being physically crushed by all of our memories that were supposed to be made there.

In general, since the official day of the divorce, I haven't felt like I thought I would. I thought it would feel like relief. And it does, a little bit... but mostly it feels like regret. For all the things we could have changed and worked on, long ago, but didn't.

And Tyler?

I don't really know what goes on in his head these days. I didn't ever really know back then, either, and that was part of the problem. But I do know that he didn't get that job in Denver, the one he was working so hard to get, the main reason he took all of those trips that left me and Caroline alone without him. And I'd imagine that feels something like regret too.