“You owe her a string of apologies,” says the therapist, after listening to my husband in a private session. At least, this is where one fantasy took me this morning.

Our debts are climbing, my husband is sleeping at his friend’s house, the Genie has broken on the garage door, and our son scratched the front of the dishwasher with a pair of scissors.

The signs indicate there is trouble.

Surely, any impartial observer would find fault with my husband attending a bachelor party at a strip joint, and going incognito for four days. Why then do I not change the locks on the doors, and tell him that if he likes his friend so much, he can stay there?

Women out there, you are not going to like this, but I am dependent on him now. I have a 2-year old and and a 10-year old to look after. I promise to write more on this soon, but suffice it to say that I am not ashamed of being financially dependent right now.

The single strongest driving force in resisting divorce is the well being of my kids. There is no affair involved, or addiction, or substantial abuse going on, (although the last two have minor parts in this drama). Therefore, I hang in there.

Frankly, I am amazed at how much pain I will tolerate in order to preserve the chance of a united home.

I am not a wallflower. I don’t just sit back and take his tirades like a whipped dog. I defend myself. I withdraw from conversations that have gone into attack mode. I am getting help and I have gone back to a 12-Step program, both of which help bolster me.

Most likely I will never receive a string of apologies. All I really care about is much greater understanding and cooperation between us. That's what I want my kids to grow up with.

By Vicki Inglis

Labels: apologies, therapist, understanding, Vicki Inglis

Stumble This Post