My husband and I are looking at finalizing our divorce in early 2015. It is just a few weeks away, and we will say goodbye to a 15+ year marriage, and 23+ year relationship. We met in 1991, I was 15, he was 17. We grew up together. And a lot has happened in our lives in these last two decades.
Today, at the threshold of a new life I find myself in a very strange place. I feel that my life, the construct that I lived in almost all my life has been broken into pieces. It is like a tornado came through and totally flattened and destroyed the home. I had spent 23 long years building that home, brick by brick, each brick was made of effort, love, and dreams. I am now standing over the ruins, looking at all the broken bricks, mortar, furniture, everything that resembled my home. I am mourning the loss of that construct. I am also looking at these ruins and wondering if I would ever be able to rebuild it again? Will I build another home with the same floor plan or will it be completely different? Will it even be here at this location? What kind of materials shall I use? Shall I live here or become a traveler? Should I just let go of everything, even the memories?
In 2011, I had a major car accident from which I escaped without a scratch. In 2012, my mother passed away after a very short and painful fight with cancer. In 2013 I watched my marriage slowly disintegrate, get frayed, and finally in April 2014 it did not have a meaning anymore. I was not the initiator of this separation, so it was, and still is, very painful.
What am I really mourning? Was I blissfully happy every moment of all these 23 years? What is happiness, after all? What is love, after all? The more I reflect and delve deeper, I realize that I am mourning my attachments.
My attachment to him, my attachment to everything "his", my attachment to anything that resembled him, my attachment to what I dreamed him up to be, my attachment to what he could be, my attachment to the potential I saw in him, my attachment to my wishes for him, my attachment to all the memories of him....
My attachment to all the dreams of "us", my attachment to everything that we have been through together, my attachment to the sweet memories of courtship, my attachment to "stuff" that we acquired together, my attachment to the plans we had made together, my attachment to the path we walked together....
I am also mourning the loss of my naivety and childlike innocent belief in how the world works. I had believed that if you love someone, and give that person your all, it will get reciprocated. I had believed that trust is all that matters in the world. I had believed that no matter what, there will be at least few people in the world - parents, siblings, and spouse - who will always be there holding your back. That construct indeed got shattered.
I am also mourning the hurt to my ego. For all the things that I did for him and us, I had indeed expected a return. I had not recognized that before, but now that the home has flattened, I realized that there was this expectation buried deep inside each brick. It has come out now. I sacrificed a lot for this relationship - didn't have a kid, gave up good career prospects, even a shot at a PhD at Stanford, slogged like a mule in several thankless jobs to get our green card/citizenship, made the money so we could have the lifestyle he liked...... the list is long. But you know what, all this I thought I had done for "love", but now I do realize that it was not all selfless, I did expect a return from him in our future together. I had expected that he too put in effort and love in building that home, I had expected that some of the bricks were made of his toil too. But he didn't stay long enough. As we separate, I feel betrayed. And it hurts. And I realize that this hurt is because of the destruction of the construct I had created, based on "my" expectations. Yes, these expectations may be justified, since relationships are usually transactional in nature, and I gave more than I got back. But, the underlying factor remains, I stand here mourning everything that was "I", "me", "my", and "mine" - memories, effort, dreams, and expectations.
Life, I know, will go on. It always does. It will be a different one. I don't know what it'll be like for I never dreamed of that life before. It will be different, different bricks with different ingredients...
Today, at the threshold of a new life I find myself in a very strange place. I feel that my life, the construct that I lived in almost all my life has been broken into pieces. It is like a tornado came through and totally flattened and destroyed the home. I had spent 23 long years building that home, brick by brick, each brick was made of effort, love, and dreams. I am now standing over the ruins, looking at all the broken bricks, mortar, furniture, everything that resembled my home. I am mourning the loss of that construct. I am also looking at these ruins and wondering if I would ever be able to rebuild it again? Will I build another home with the same floor plan or will it be completely different? Will it even be here at this location? What kind of materials shall I use? Shall I live here or become a traveler? Should I just let go of everything, even the memories?
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| "Saamne muskurati hain manzil Paaon lekin uthana hain mushkil" |
(Caption says: The destination is smiling right in front of me but it is very difficult to take the first step.)
In 2011, I had a major car accident from which I escaped without a scratch. In 2012, my mother passed away after a very short and painful fight with cancer. In 2013 I watched my marriage slowly disintegrate, get frayed, and finally in April 2014 it did not have a meaning anymore. I was not the initiator of this separation, so it was, and still is, very painful.
What am I really mourning? Was I blissfully happy every moment of all these 23 years? What is happiness, after all? What is love, after all? The more I reflect and delve deeper, I realize that I am mourning my attachments.
My attachment to him, my attachment to everything "his", my attachment to anything that resembled him, my attachment to what I dreamed him up to be, my attachment to what he could be, my attachment to the potential I saw in him, my attachment to my wishes for him, my attachment to all the memories of him....
My attachment to all the dreams of "us", my attachment to everything that we have been through together, my attachment to the sweet memories of courtship, my attachment to "stuff" that we acquired together, my attachment to the plans we had made together, my attachment to the path we walked together....
I am also mourning the loss of my naivety and childlike innocent belief in how the world works. I had believed that if you love someone, and give that person your all, it will get reciprocated. I had believed that trust is all that matters in the world. I had believed that no matter what, there will be at least few people in the world - parents, siblings, and spouse - who will always be there holding your back. That construct indeed got shattered.
I am also mourning the hurt to my ego. For all the things that I did for him and us, I had indeed expected a return. I had not recognized that before, but now that the home has flattened, I realized that there was this expectation buried deep inside each brick. It has come out now. I sacrificed a lot for this relationship - didn't have a kid, gave up good career prospects, even a shot at a PhD at Stanford, slogged like a mule in several thankless jobs to get our green card/citizenship, made the money so we could have the lifestyle he liked...... the list is long. But you know what, all this I thought I had done for "love", but now I do realize that it was not all selfless, I did expect a return from him in our future together. I had expected that he too put in effort and love in building that home, I had expected that some of the bricks were made of his toil too. But he didn't stay long enough. As we separate, I feel betrayed. And it hurts. And I realize that this hurt is because of the destruction of the construct I had created, based on "my" expectations. Yes, these expectations may be justified, since relationships are usually transactional in nature, and I gave more than I got back. But, the underlying factor remains, I stand here mourning everything that was "I", "me", "my", and "mine" - memories, effort, dreams, and expectations.
Life, I know, will go on. It always does. It will be a different one. I don't know what it'll be like for I never dreamed of that life before. It will be different, different bricks with different ingredients...
