Nan was gracious enough to guest post about divorce last week and now she’s written a follow-up post to answer some of the questions about her experience. She’ll be reading and answering your questions in the comments over the next few days. Thanks Nan!
It was Christmas Eve and the last of my children had been told that their father was leaving us. My daughter asked if she could sleep with me. Of course I said yes, but I don’t think we were much comfort to one another. During the holiday her friend came from Rick’s College and I’m sure they heard me crying in my room. My older daughter, who lived in an apartment, started coming by with friends, all of them trying to fix me up. In ignorance I did something thoughtless; I told my 14 yr. old son that since his father would not be living with us, he would have to be the priesthood holder for our home. This was a terrible responsibility to place on a struggling teenager. We were all struggling. My children love their father very much. I tried very hard to be fair and not to trash him. From the beginning, I felt that I had failed; I had not made my husband happy. The divorce was my fault. You see, I had read Fascinating Womanhood and I did not fit the profile.
I was engaged to my high school sweetheart when I met my husband in California. My fiancee was a wonderful young man from a fine family who had it all. I think I was in love with them both, but I chose to marry my husband because I thought I could help him make a success of his life. He seemed to need me. Doesn’t that sound adolescent? I was just turning 20. He was raised in an unstable family and had had a rough life. He was currently in the military and was newly activated in the church. He was attracted to me, because I had a wonderful family and came from a stable home. I prayed about this choice and I received a confirmation. Breaking my engagement was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. Even though my parents were bitterly disappointed, they trusted me and gave me their support.
I idealized my parents. My mother was a well educated woman, but because I was raised during *the depression,* my parents deemed two years of college ample for their girls. Of course, the boys needed advanced degrees. My mother was very feminine, ladylike, mild mannered and long suffering. I considered her guileless and believed her to be the perfect mother, but I didn’t want to be like her. She seemed always to be in my father’s shadow. He ran the show, made all the important decisions, and told the jokes. She supported him in all things, let him be the life of the party and laughed at his jokes. I was taught to serve and support my future husband and to accept whatever life he made for me. The concept of planning my life, making important decisions, and setting personal goals was foreign to me.
I know my husband would have loved being married to a *fascinating woman.* On the other hand, he would have been happy if I had wanted a career. I neither wanted to be a fascinating woman, nor did I want a career. I did want to be a good wife and mother. We saved up grievances and we communicated mostly through the church or the children. He was critical, had a bad temper and yelled at me. In the 70’s I knew we needed counseling, but my husband refused to go. He was working for the federal government and having something in his file about seeing a shrink could have been damaging to his career. He told me I could get counseling, since I needed it more than he did. I went to therapy for two years and it was very helpful. After our Christmas 1980 separation he agreed to counseling, but it was too late, because he had already moved on with his life. I begged him to keep the family together, but he was convinced that he had found his soul mate. He almost had me convinced that he was making the right choice. I attended the temple searching for insights. The answer I received was that the adversary has power over those who break their covenants. He could not have been thinking clearly.
Well-meaning people advised me to move to Utah, but the best advice I was given was to stay put, where we had a support system and the children could see their father. I quickly let go of resentment. The kids had enough to deal with. They didn’t need me trashing their father. The next best advice was not to file for divorce; let him be the one to file. I took a job as a receptionist in a large company and stayed there three years. It took me that long to get the confidence to accept an excellent job that I enjoyed doing. The only problem with the job was that I had to travel on a monthly basis. That meant that I could not finish raising my youngest son. This was very painful for me. I let him live with his father and step-mother and he was able to stay in our old home and finish high school. They did a fine job taking care of him and he ended up as student body president and received the Outstanding Student Award for the State of Texas. He is currently pursuing a Ph.D. program in Psychology.
I used a more mature criteria in choosing my current husband. He was a practicing Bishop who had cared for an invalid wife with MS for 10 years before she died. He is loving, accepting, secure within himself and has a marvelously positive attitude. He likes adventure and loves music and travel. He has lovely children who were out of the house when we married. This made our adjustment much easier. He accepted my children with no reservations. My older son is a highly successful professional. My older daughter is a fitness specialist working in the health care industry. My younger daughter has worked as a media personality in the communications field. All have wonderful children and love the gospel.
I am far happier with my current husband, but I would have sacrificed that to have kept an intact family for my 4 children. My children have turned out to be responsible, capable and devoted to their parents, though I don’t think they ever got over the trauma of the divorce. They learned to accept and to cope, but the pain of a fractured family remains.
My divorce left me with some insecurities that I didn’t have before. Sometimes I feel that my children are invisible. I feel sad that most people don’t even know that I have 4 children, so they don’t ask about them. When people who do know I have children ignore that, I sometimes talk about them gratuitously, because I want the acknowledgment and I want to give them a face.
I see God’s hand in my life. My decision to marry my first husband was not a mistake. My four unique children could not have been created by any other DNA. I would not change that for anything. He taught me many positive things that have enriched my life and made me a better person. My children are my legacy. I don’t take credit for their accomplishments or for the fine men and women they have become, but I gave them life and I loved them. I thank my children for their love and support and for trying to make me look good. So up to this point, that’s the rest of the story.
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