Confession #21: I think I did a good job choosing my first husband.

I was 24 almost 25 when I met the man I married. I was wrapping up my college education and, frankly, had given up hope of starting a family before starting over somewhere new. Then I met my ex.

I wasn't planning on dating him. He wasn't a member of my faith and I had determined that I was going to marry someone with the same life perspective and goal I had at the time. This meant marrying in my faith because I was aiming to married not only for this life but also for the next. I believe these blessings are only fully available as we make promises with God and our spouse in God's house--a temple--using God's power that He restored through the Prophet Joseph Smith.

This isn't meant to be a lesson on religion but you have to understand a little bit about me. I live my religion. That doesn't mean I go around condemning people not of my faith. But it does mean that I needed someone who could handle someone who has my beliefs. On that note, to find out more about my faith, please visit Mormon.org which has information direct from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. These are the things that anyone marrying me would have to be okay with. To be my friend or associate, you don't have to agree with all my beliefs. We can agree to disagree. But marriage is different. 

My ex-husband did an amazing job convincing me that he adored me in large part because he convinced me that he adored my faith in God and how I lived it. Before and while we were dating, he praised my decisions and openly told me he thought my choices were amazing. 

And he embraced them, too. I didn't introduce my religion to him but met him as he was investigating my religion. By the time I really got to know him, he'd already decided to join my church. In fact, our first real conversation was tied to my form of congratulating him on his decision. I was going to make him scripture covers and needed to know his favorite colors. 

From the beginning, he was honest to me about his rough past. His life was different from mine in so many ways. He made some poor choices in his life. But I could see his goodness and that goodness only grew as I watched him allow God to influence his life. I watched him apologize for difficult things and truly attempt to be better. I watched him search to know truth and make difficult decisions. I watched him change for the better. I would go more personal but not all details of his story are mine to share. 

Along with his personal conversion to the Gospel of Jesus Christ, I watched my ex-husband to see what kind of a man he was. I learned that he was extremely devoted to caring for his family. I watched him reach out to them over and over again. I learned that he was strong willed and never gave up despite difficulties. I also learned that he was willing to serve as I watched him help numerous friends and strangers. I learned that he had the ability to set people at ease and help them feel happy.

We were a good compliment. I was quieter in public while he was more outgoing.  I helped strengthen his resolve to do good and provided stability while he helped me think more carefully about my beliefs. I helped him ground him just enough to keep us moving towards our mutual goals while he helped me have a little fun and enjoy life. When I made the decision to marry him, it was a good choice. He could have made a wonderful husband and father. 

The problem is that things changed. He quit doing the things that convinced me to marry him. How was I supposed to know? Maybe I should have seen the change. But, at first, they were subtle. Looking back, I can see the hints, the warnings. But even now, that's all they were: hints. We had a year long engagement. I almost broke off the engagement a few times because I was scared. Looking back, I realize that some of my fears were rational--the hints--but I couldn't figure out what was actually wrong. Especially since a lot of my fears were irrational--the fears of someone facing a very serious long term commitment. Was I really ready? Would we really make it?

I'm pleased with my decision. Marriage is a gamble. It's a gamble because it involves two people and you're only one person. You make your choices but the other person makes their own. When you get married, you gamble on whether or not the person is fully committed to that choice. If you're careful, you know your side. If you're careful, you have a pretty good idea of the other person's side. But, it's still a leap of faith in your partner. And my partner betrayed that trust.

I don't regret my choice. I was careful. I did all the things to find my answer to the best of my knowledge. And, once I made my choice and was actually married, I didn't look back. Divorce wasn't an option to me. Which is why my divorce was the most difficult and devastating decision I ever had to make. 

I divorced my husband because I loved him. When I divorced him, he was diving head first into a pool of bitterness and hate with me as the scapegoat to his unhappiness. He was emotionally and verbally abusive and it was only getting worse. I divorced him so it would stop. So he could be free from the burden he carried that only increased every time he treated me poorly. 

I also divorced him because I loved my sons. When I divorced my ex-husband, he was making poor decisions relating to Big Brother, his son, due to his feelings toward me. (Baby Brother wasn't born yet.) He was avoiding me and thus avoiding Big Brother. Big Brother was confused and missed his daddy. My ex-husband was using Big Brother in attempts to hurt me in order to control me which also scared Big Brother. I also worried about the life that Baby Brother would have in an unhappy home. A life where he might wonder if it was his fault his daddy wasn't there. I made a difficult decision. And, as I watch my sons develop a positive relationship with their father, I know I made the right one.

I wish I could say I divorced him because I loved myself. But I can't. Although I was happy with the direction my life was headed at the time, I struggled to separate myself from the lies my ex-husband constantly told me. A good part of me believed I deserved what I got. This is a battle I still fight today.

Despite not regretting my choice, my plan for finding a new husband has changed. My second husband will be my last. I learned a lot from this experience. I won't repeat this mistake. I won't put myself or my boys through this again. I'm not going to go into my plan here, it's a little too personal, but I believe that God will bless my efforts in following Him and will take care of my children.

Confession #20: I got stuck.

The point of this blog is to help me. To help me be a super mom. To help me survive my struggles and my pains as well as to share my hopes, dreams, and joys. To help me dump the extra weight somewhere so that it doesn't get dumped on my kids. Because super moms don't dump their extra baggage on their kids.

Right now, I haven't been doing that. I got scared. Scared of what everyone reading this blog would think if I was honest. Scared of the people who have hurt me in the past, the people who hurt me in the present, and the people who will inevitably hurt me in the future. Pain is a part of life. I accept that. The trouble is figuring out how to let that pain go in appropriate ways.

I got stuck because I was posting these blog posts on my Facebook page. It was good in some ways as I started because it's what I felt was needed. But, in reality, I can't be completely honest when linked to Facebook because I know those people and actively fear their comments. Fear their judgments.

That doesn't mean they're bad people. It just means that I don't trust them. Except for my mother. I trust my mother and she's my Facebook friend. But she spent 30 years growing that trust and definitely proved it the last five. And my dearest friend. She knows who she is because she's the one who was pregnant and dropped everything to come help me with my newborn when she heard about my separation. I trust her. Not as much as I trust my mother. But a lot.

The rest I don't trust because they don't love me. They may love some of the things I do or they may have loved me at some point. But they don't love me in the deeper sense that results in true sacrifice. The type of sacrifice my mother has shown me throughout her life and my friend clearly showed when she came to visit.

I don't blame people. There are so many people to choose to love and definitely people who should be priorities higher than me. There are some on that list that I wished loved me that much. There are some on that list that professed to love me that much but, in turn, betrayed the trust I chose to give them. There are some on that list that I'm sure think they love me that much. I'm sure there are also some on the list that wish they loved me that much.

I write this to relieve my heart of this burden--it's a heavy burden. I'm choosing to write it here because I feel like I'm not the only one. I imagine that there are other single parents who struggle just like I do. Who desperately wish to be loved by someone with a little more depth than their toddlers.

Parents who know that there perspective may be a little skewed at times. But it's the only perspective they have since they're alone doing the best they can.

There. Unstuck. Bravely posting my honest feelings. Which is extremely hard for me because of the emotional abuse I endured. At the hands of more than one person in my life. I don't care if you agree with my feelings. I don't care if you agree with my perspective. But I do. Because I desperately want to be loved, appreciated, and worthwhile. Yes, I doubt my worth. But, that doesn't mean I don't know my worth.