That was mysterious

An unexpected blog post dropped into my inbox yesterday. It was from a website called The Rhythm Method, which gives no details about the author.

A line at the top simply says “the online journal of Karen Mills”.

The post was called “Births, deaths and marriages” and it was posted on December 10, 2024, so I have no idea why it was sent to me yesterday.

But it spoke to me. Karen described her divorce and I felt her pain and anger.

She wrote: “The truth is that many marriages end long before the separation begins … If I look back upon my journals and personal essays from that time, the idea that marriage was problematic had entered my subconscious as early as 12 years ago.”

Me too. Maybe not 12 years, but when I look back on my blog posts there are so many clues that I was unhappily married.

Karen recalls the last night she and her husband slept in the same bed, after agreeing to tell their three sons the next day that they were divorcing.

She writes: “That night, the last night Bruce and I slept in the same bed, I cried myself to sleep. I held my truth in the same hands that held these boys as newborns. My love for them was infinite but I had failed to keep my love for their dad alive.”

Me too.

Karen’s husband held her in bed on that last night. I will never forget our night, we hardly slept, just talked and talked and talked.

And I wondered whether we could have saved our marriage if we’d only talked sooner.

Karen adds: “Leaving the marriage is the hardest thing I have ever done. In every respect, it’s also the best thing I’ve ever done for myself.”

My husband left my marriage. And it was the hardest thing he’s ever done. He was devastated to no longer see his kids every day.

But it turned out to be the best thing for me. I came to life like Sleeping Beauty being awakened by true love’s kiss.

The woman sitting beside me at the Calabria dinner on Wednesday said she’d never met anyone like me, so open and honest.

DD used to say something similar, back in the early days of our relationship.

I wasn’t always this way. I kept my cards pretty close until my mid 40s.

But when I emerged from the initial grief of my marriage break up, I decided to be myself. I wanted to be accepted and loved for being the odd bod that I am.

I don’t touch base my ex very often these days, but when we do we talk and talk. Mainly about the kids. As I’ve noted previously, no one loves your children as much as their other parent. And if there is some way to set bitterness aside to keep that connection, I wholeheartedly recommend it.

Karen laid herself bare in her blog post. And she hasn’t published anything since. I hope she writes another one soon, so I know she’s doing OK.

Divorce wounds eventually heal, but they leave scar tissue. While it’s been more than 11 years since my ex told me he was leaving, I will never forget the devastation and distress it unleashed.

I fear the break up still messes with our kids’ heads and that they will take us to task for the pain our separation caused them.

And I am so sorry about that.

On a cheerier note – I hope you have a great weekend. I may be embarking on one of my busiest ones. It starts tonight on the Northern Beaches, then I will zig-zag around until I return to DD’s to collect the dogs on Sunday.

Stay tuned, there will be lots of news.

PS: Oddly, the third last blog post Karen wrote is called “How to stop blogging”.

“When you begin to write your story online, it becomes hard to know how to end it. While the story may reach a point of closure, the life from which the story stems continues to flow on and on, like an obnoxious, rambling stream.”

I hard relate to that too!

Song of the day: Taylor Swift “We are never ever getting back together”