What about the children?

I’ve been putting off the most complicated part of this whole story because, well, it’s complicated.

DB and I each have 2 children apiece of similar ages, ranging from preschool to early elementary school. They’re beautiful and funny and smart and we both love them all. They are adjusting so far to the divorces, albeit not without difficulty at times. Things seem to be going better for my kids because they spend about 50/50 time with me and their father, which gives them stability and constant reassurance that their parents love them and will always take care of them. It also helps a lot that my ex and I get along pretty well. For DB’s children, who were moved across the country suddenly one day, away from their father, with no notice, it has been tougher. They miss their dad, and he can’t explain to them that he isn’t with them because their mother took them away. On the upside, they are well-loved, well cared-for children, and mostly they do pretty well.

But sometimes I wonder whether we were obligated to stay for the children regardless of what it would have cost us emotionally.

Back before all the shit went down, when I was trying to figure out whether I could stop this freight train and stay in my marriage, I read lots of books. I do that. Many of these books posited that nearly all marriages are ultimately salvageable, and we HAVE to save our marriages whether we want to or not, because if we don’t, it will destroy our children. *Insert the author’s favorite set of statistics about the increased likelihood of your child ending up turning tricks in an alleyway for drug money if you get divorced.* Great. So not only do I have a ton of guilt hanging over my head already for the mortal sin I’ve committed, but now my son is destined to be a rent boy, and God help the little one because she already likes to show everyone her Cinderella underpants. And, as an added bonus, if you believe these books, divorce is destroying all of Western civilization. No pressure or anything.

In all seriousness, I wondered a lot about whether my failure to work things out in my marriage would be a betrayal of my children. Believe me, I spent many sleepless nights flogging myself with that particular scourge, but in the end, I have to say no. I think the same is true for DB. We betrayed our spouses, but we didn’t betray our children. It’s different.

Look, I believe that many a marriage can be saved, if both people want to save it, and both people are willing and able to pull their heads out of their respective posteriors and face some uncomfortable truths about themselves and how they treat others. Infidelity is symptomatic of much deeper problems within the relationship and the psyche of the cheater, and I think it’s childishly simplistic and fatally stupid for either the betrayed spouse or the cheater to view it as a question of simply not being able to keep one’s pants zipped. If you try to save your marriage because you and your spouse sincerely want to do so and both of you are willing to do whatever it takes, it will turn out better for your kids if you succeed. Even if you fail, you’ll feel much better about it having tried. Or so I’m told.

I just couldn’t do that. I knew that the best I was going to get with my ex was benign neglect, and that I was going to have to stand in for his mother his whole life. It was exhausting to arrange my existence around the whims of another person all the time. That’s something I was willing to do for my children, but not for an adult man. And, shockingly, I found that I was actually compromising my children’s needs to indulge my ex’s wants. He didn’t see why it should be any different. It was working for him, so if I had a problem with it, that was my problem. By the time I figured all of that out, I had run out of willingness to pour any more of my time and energy into that black hole. I had to be honest about the toll it would take on me, and the person I would become as a result. I did not think that person could be the mother my children deserved.

Having grown up with parents who are still married and miserable with each other, I don’t really think it does anyone a service to stay together for the kids if you can’t fix the marriage. I bear many scars from my upbringing in an “intact” family. From my observations, getting a divorce, while traumatic, is not the end of the world for children. I don’t believe it’s any worse than growing up in the midst of an unhappy marriage; it’s just different. Don’t get me wrong, there have been horrible times, and I’d be remiss if I sugarcoated the billion little heartbreaks I’ve had every day over the past few years. And I have to own the fact that I made this choice, and it has caused pain to my children. But, aside from the choice to have an affair (granted, a big aside), I did the best I could with the situation I had, given the mental and emotional resources available to me. I left my marriage because it was the best choice at that decision point, not because of DB. If he had not been there for me on the other side, I still would not regret my choice.

Thankfully, none of the children have any idea that DB and I had an affair. It occurred to me in a moment of gut-wrenching panic that probably my kids will find out because, assuming we stay together as planned, DB’s kids will tell them, because DB’s ex will make sure they know. I just don’t see her missing a chance to rub DB’s nose in this – I don’t think she can help herself. When the day comes, I will have to put on my big girl panties and continue to take responsibility for my choices. I hope it happens later rather than sooner. Meanwhile, I try to do the best I can by my children and hope it’s enough to ensure that even if they blame me for failing their father, they will know that I have always been a good mother to them. When I’m feeling particularly optimistic, I think they might possibly someday understand why I couldn’t stay.