“Even in happier families, the mother is usually a little less happy than everyone else.” Expressed perfectly. Maybe not in every situation, but so, so true in many scenarios. Thank you for being vulnerable and putting words to what I’ve often felt, but couldn’t articulate, until I read this sentence.
You say it all so well. Of course you're allowed to grieve, and of course there was happiness too amidst all the unhappiness. All the conflicting emotions and conflicting experiences are real. It's so hard when you're the one to end a marriage. I've been there, and it felt like amputating a body part. It's one thing when someone else does it to you, but it's weird when you do it to yourself. From everything you say, you clearly did the right thing. But you're still in the midst of doing it and in the midst of grieving. Best wishes for working through it and getting to the other side feeling much better!
This photo and this piece speaks to me more than I can say. What somehow broke my heart the most when my partner and I ended our relationship recently was that the day before he had captured a photo of me, holding hands with my daughter, and I was looking back over my shoulder towards him smiling with such genuine joy and love. I don't like having my picture taken but I adored the moment it captured and was totally un-self-conscious.
Somehow I was wrong in thinking we were both (all three?) happy--with the raging criticism he was about to unfurl on me as a parent and about the deficiencies of my 6 year old daughter, yet again, recurring every few weeks or months. He read aloud his family's negative texts about me & my daughter after Thanksgiving, as proof that he's right, and I knew it had to end. But god that picture gets me every time because if the look I have in my eyes & my smile isn't love, I don't know what it is.
Wow, that's such a powerful story. I think the hardest thing in our binary culture is accepting that two or more things can be simultaneously true. We can love someone who treats us badly, as confusing as that is!
Photos are so funny that way—both what they do and don’t capture.
Sending a hug, Kerala. I left my husband, and even without the addition of losing a family unit with kids, I know what you mean about the complicated grief of a loss you “initiated” (even if certain behaviors and patterns left you little choice).
Me, too. All of this. Just got back from a last holiday together before we begin to change. Changes I’m instigating and making happen because I need them to. Changes required if I am going to feel happy again. So many feelings all at once - grief, shame, sadness, guilt BUT ALSO empowered, excited, hopeful, optimistic and determined. Thank you so much for sharing so I know I’m not alone - I am seen, fortified and nurtured. Onward!
One of my bug bears was my ex partners obsession with how other people appear on the socials. Like it’s real life. That keeping up with the Joneses mentality. ‘Why is their life so much better looking than mine’ - newsflash, it isn’t! These people are mostly miserable too, stuck in their dead end employment, relationship issues, financial issues, family issues and socials are used as a quick fix.
The irony when I scrolled her Facebook feed a few nights ago and it was exactly that. All happy, smiling, ‘keith is great he’s done this for me’, yet underneath knowing she was about to pull the pin in a 30 year relationship (which I accept I played a substantial part in but that’s by the by).
I fucking hate social media. It’s the Devil’s tool.
Wow, the words that are woven to show so many aspects and intricacies of pain and loss, love and sadness. Thank you always for writing - this writing is unmatched. Just incredible as it shines a mirror that I didn't want to look into
Today is my 47th birthday, and first since learning in July that my wife had at that point been screwing her boss for five months. There were no family photos on the walls when she left. My beautiful children will get printed and framed photos of our trip for Christmas, among other things. I have still to make the selections. Since July I noticedy ex not smiling in any photos going back for months. In a photo from early March, she looks miserable. And guilty. She knew it was over. I didn't. I thought we committed until the end of time. Our marriage wasn't perfect, but it was mostly great. In her words (written in one of the 800 emails exchanged with her lover, which I found): the one thing we had done consisteiin our family is to nurture closeness. Never for a moment had I thought that we had endured anything that would lead to the end of us.
This quatrain from British poet Lemn Sissay resonates so strongly:
Each time you leave
A part of me hates you.
It's not you though,
It's the loss I relate to.
We had undertaken a pretty great livelihood project (a private park) that, while not especially lucrative supported our family and allowed us the time and flexibility to focus on our family. Her departure - and the inevitable chaos it created - left me wondering if and how to continue. I remember a morning discussion with park visitors-turned-friends-and-confidants that I can carry on. That the project, the dream, can continue; only the composition of the family has changed. Its a big adjustment, but hopefully not more than that. Still, it's a slog, and requires strong conviction that somedays is in short supply.
Beautiful. Thank you for putting into words what so many of us experience. Isn't it interesting to think about how much a photo says and also does not say? I realized this recently looking through the albums my step-dad has from my childhood. They say more about him and his focus than it does about our family. It had me thinking about what my kids would say about the photos I have taken over the years.
“Even in happier families, the mother is usually a little less happy than everyone else.” Expressed perfectly. Maybe not in every situation, but so, so true in many scenarios. Thank you for being vulnerable and putting words to what I’ve often felt, but couldn’t articulate, until I read this sentence.
I'm glad (or not glad?) this resonated. I had a hunch I'm not the only mother who feels this way!
Ha I was just about to quote that same thing!
Yes, that's such a perfect summation.
Sigh. So powerful, looking into the nooks and crannies of grief. Thanks for sharing this look behind the photo.
"Nooks and crannies of grief" -- beautiful! That's exactly what I feel like I'm doing.
Hello 👋👋
You say it all so well. Of course you're allowed to grieve, and of course there was happiness too amidst all the unhappiness. All the conflicting emotions and conflicting experiences are real. It's so hard when you're the one to end a marriage. I've been there, and it felt like amputating a body part. It's one thing when someone else does it to you, but it's weird when you do it to yourself. From everything you say, you clearly did the right thing. But you're still in the midst of doing it and in the midst of grieving. Best wishes for working through it and getting to the other side feeling much better!
Thank you! I feel like we have such a narrow definition of grief as a society and we only allow space for certain forms.
This photo and this piece speaks to me more than I can say. What somehow broke my heart the most when my partner and I ended our relationship recently was that the day before he had captured a photo of me, holding hands with my daughter, and I was looking back over my shoulder towards him smiling with such genuine joy and love. I don't like having my picture taken but I adored the moment it captured and was totally un-self-conscious.
Somehow I was wrong in thinking we were both (all three?) happy--with the raging criticism he was about to unfurl on me as a parent and about the deficiencies of my 6 year old daughter, yet again, recurring every few weeks or months. He read aloud his family's negative texts about me & my daughter after Thanksgiving, as proof that he's right, and I knew it had to end. But god that picture gets me every time because if the look I have in my eyes & my smile isn't love, I don't know what it is.
Wow, that's such a powerful story. I think the hardest thing in our binary culture is accepting that two or more things can be simultaneously true. We can love someone who treats us badly, as confusing as that is!
So true!
Photos are so funny that way—both what they do and don’t capture.
Sending a hug, Kerala. I left my husband, and even without the addition of losing a family unit with kids, I know what you mean about the complicated grief of a loss you “initiated” (even if certain behaviors and patterns left you little choice).
Thank you Holly, and well said!
Me, too. All of this. Just got back from a last holiday together before we begin to change. Changes I’m instigating and making happen because I need them to. Changes required if I am going to feel happy again. So many feelings all at once - grief, shame, sadness, guilt BUT ALSO empowered, excited, hopeful, optimistic and determined. Thank you so much for sharing so I know I’m not alone - I am seen, fortified and nurtured. Onward!
Wow, incredible writing that really hit home. Thank you for articulating what so many of us feel.
Beautiful, as usual, Kerala.
One of my bug bears was my ex partners obsession with how other people appear on the socials. Like it’s real life. That keeping up with the Joneses mentality. ‘Why is their life so much better looking than mine’ - newsflash, it isn’t! These people are mostly miserable too, stuck in their dead end employment, relationship issues, financial issues, family issues and socials are used as a quick fix.
The irony when I scrolled her Facebook feed a few nights ago and it was exactly that. All happy, smiling, ‘keith is great he’s done this for me’, yet underneath knowing she was about to pull the pin in a 30 year relationship (which I accept I played a substantial part in but that’s by the by).
I fucking hate social media. It’s the Devil’s tool.
Lots of hugs :)
Wow, the words that are woven to show so many aspects and intricacies of pain and loss, love and sadness. Thank you always for writing - this writing is unmatched. Just incredible as it shines a mirror that I didn't want to look into
Today is my 47th birthday, and first since learning in July that my wife had at that point been screwing her boss for five months. There were no family photos on the walls when she left. My beautiful children will get printed and framed photos of our trip for Christmas, among other things. I have still to make the selections. Since July I noticedy ex not smiling in any photos going back for months. In a photo from early March, she looks miserable. And guilty. She knew it was over. I didn't. I thought we committed until the end of time. Our marriage wasn't perfect, but it was mostly great. In her words (written in one of the 800 emails exchanged with her lover, which I found): the one thing we had done consisteiin our family is to nurture closeness. Never for a moment had I thought that we had endured anything that would lead to the end of us.
This quatrain from British poet Lemn Sissay resonates so strongly:
Each time you leave
A part of me hates you.
It's not you though,
It's the loss I relate to.
We had undertaken a pretty great livelihood project (a private park) that, while not especially lucrative supported our family and allowed us the time and flexibility to focus on our family. Her departure - and the inevitable chaos it created - left me wondering if and how to continue. I remember a morning discussion with park visitors-turned-friends-and-confidants that I can carry on. That the project, the dream, can continue; only the composition of the family has changed. Its a big adjustment, but hopefully not more than that. Still, it's a slog, and requires strong conviction that somedays is in short supply.
Beautiful. Thank you for putting into words what so many of us experience. Isn't it interesting to think about how much a photo says and also does not say? I realized this recently looking through the albums my step-dad has from my childhood. They say more about him and his focus than it does about our family. It had me thinking about what my kids would say about the photos I have taken over the years.