I’m afraid that Josh’s e-mail on “overwhelming comfort” let the sexy cat out of the bag, dear readers. I was, admittedly, enjoying the bounties of the holiday season: gingerbread cookies, Christmas shopping, and extremely pleasant “interactions,” to borrow Josh’s euphemism, with with my new love. Yes, I’m talking about bedding down with a special someone and caressing and kissing—hell, practically inhaling—each other to everloving pieces.
When I married John, I’d wholeheartedly accepted the idea that I would never “interact” with another human again. I wasn’t afraid of commitment, and I didn’t feel like I’d miss out on anything by going “all in” with one man. Once our relationship started to crack, however, sex became less a thing of beauty and more a bargaining tool. And, when things got really bad, I learned to manipulate my sexual power to diffuse bad situations.
After the dissolution of my marriage, I was technically—legally—free to be with anyone. But morally, I felt unsettled. The previous summer, I’d stood up in front of one-hundred-some dearly beloved people and promised to love one man for the rest of my life. I hadn’t studied the vows carefully. I’d just parroted them back to the pastor like most people thoughtlessly spew the Pledge of Allegiance or the Lord’s Prayer.
What had I been thinking? I’d gotten so swept up in the idea of getting married that I did the getting married things: dressing my lovely friends in overpriced pale pink dresses, selecting perky floral arrangements, and okaying the requisite tulle decorations. Operating on auto-pilot, I did everything I was “supposed” to do, and in the process, I made a supposedly lifelong commitment to a man who was now a near-stranger living in the mountains. ‘Til death do us part, in sickness and in health, and all that jazz.
Had I compromised my integrity by breaking my vows? Maybe. Or, perhaps the damage was really done by making them in the first place. Looking back on my wedding day, it’s clear that I lacked awareness entirely; the kind of equanimity that I find when I’m grooving on my yoga mat or running down a dirt road was nowhere to be seen. I know what peace feels like, and peace was not with me when I glibly posed in front of a “Dead End” sign in my wedding gown.
Just how bad was I supposed to feel about breaking my vows? Did I deserve to suffer indefinitely for committing some sort of sin? Intellectually, I didn’t think so, but somehow, I still felt like complete and utter shit. For me, it was less a religious issue, and more a matter of feeling like a failure. To a high achiever like me, it felt nothing short of tragic to fail so miserably.
While I was riddled with all sorts of divorce-related guilt, having a physical relationship with another man felt surprisingly legitimate. I was delighted to rediscover loving, no-strings-attached sensuality, and it was reassuring to feel that I was still worthy of—and capable of—love. Nobody should have to use their body as a peace offering or a mood-altering sedative, and nobody should have to make love without love out of marital (or any other) obligation.
It was Christmas, and I felt blessed beyond belief. I had a second shot at building a life I could be proud of, and it included a delicious new relationship that fed more than just my heart, if you know what I mean.
I fully understand the failure part. I married at 19. I did not get married because I was pregnant [I was pregnant]. He married me because I was, but I married because he was set on getting married before the baby was born. We divorced 3 kids and 8 1/2 years later. I filed, I started it, I was okay with it, yet 11 years later I have not remarried. I’ve lived with the same man as if we were husband & wife for 9 years, but could never bring myself to marry due to the sense of failure or it just felt a bit hypocritical. Didn’t I already take make that vow? Sometime last month that changed. Maybe time, maybe finding out a good friend of mine from high school passed, or maybe my mom’s possibly terminal cancer changed things, but I no longer feel that way.
From the one comment many posts back it looks like you resolved your feelings on this, too. And I have to admit, that particular comment felt a little like reading the last page of a book to make sure the main character had a happy ending.
Interesting that your feelings have changed. How does your partner feel about marriage? I have definitely wrestled w/ this. More on that soon!
It has taken him a while to be ready to marry again, but he did finally ask me about 2 1/2 years ago. He feels we’re already married with or without the piece of paper. I went back and forth on whether I was ready to make things official so he told me he would wait and maybe one day I would be ready. Guess that kind of ties into your post on timing. We both had to be ready or it wasn’t going to happen. I was not going to feel pressured and neither was he. I look forward to seeing how your story unfolds.
First time here and I obviously have missed a lot.
I think a lot of people rush into marriage because it’s what we’re supposed to do. It’s part of the American dream. But it’s really part of the American, “Auto Pilot.” Get a good job, get married, buy a nice house, have kids, work your ass off, have fun occasionally, grow old, kids leave, watch a shitload of TV, die.
OK, that even depressed me.
I’m glad you’re in a much better place. Good for you!
You’re absolutely right. Auto pilot is dangerous. I’m happy to report, BTW, that I no longer watch a shitload of TV since starting this blog!
Vows are tricky things. I certainly think they should be honored but not at the expense of yourself. It seems that your marriage had become maintaining vows at the expense of yourself. Still I’m sure I’d struggle with it in that situation but I’m glad you were happy!
I’d be curious to hear more about your views on vows. I’ve gathered from your blog that you work at a church but that you don’t preach regularly. Are you a pastor working in more of an admin role? How would you counsel someone who is currently wrestling with this issue?
Melissa, the content of this one isn’t a big thing for the parents. Frankly, almost every day during this period I was telling Emma – Do not think too much right now, that sometimes gets you in trouble. Don’t over think, and don’t mess this one up (he’s a great home brewer!). Of course, I was also the one who earlier suggested that insemination is possible for any woman any time, so don’t spend too much time worrying about the old biological clock.
In any case, even though it (I suspect anyway) happens to everyone some time or other, it is powerful to discover that sex doesn’t have to be a tool, or a weapon, or an epiphany every time. Sometimes it just feels good, and some other times it just feels good to help the other person feel good, and sometimes…you’re all gaga in love. The vows are really only important (IMO) if they are important to you, so it’s good to think hard about it, but we also jaywalk, and we sometimes drive over the speed limit, and sometimes we trip and land in bed with the right person.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts, Dad!
I haven’t been in this same situation but I do teach marriage/family as part of specialty. AND I think you writing this & the story of your life in this experience will help others going through the same thing.
beth aka confusedhomemaker´s last blog ..Esme Chair
I understand exactly how you felt about being a “failure” for breaking your vows, but I agree with Melissa. Your are not and you give me inspiration. I felt and still kind of feel the same way right now about breaking mine. I feel like I failed to make my marriage work. However I am starting to realize I did not fail to make my marriage work but instead failed to realize that I really did not know the person I had married. I was blinded by love and excited to be getting married, and did not see what really was. Reading your blog helps give me strength. It is very difficult because we are good friends similar “To Be Determined” and part of me wants to try to make it work, but I also realize staying with him would be living a lie and cause more hurt in the end. Thank you so much for your inspiration and strength.
Thanks for your kind words! Being good friends with your ex must be pretty hard. For me, it was important to make a clean break, but I admire people who are able to manage that. Sounds like you and I had similar circumstances surrounding getting married in the first place. I definitely didn’t know John well enough.
Yes, being friends with my ex is very hard at times. We have a lot of mutual friends and I’m still friendly with his family. I know things will change over time, but for now we’ve decided to try to stay friends. I thought I knew my husband, but either he changed, or I did not know who he really was. I don’t think I really knew myself either. I am taking this time for self discovery and figuring out what I really want in life. I just started my own blog as therapy because I find writing to be very therapeutic. I look forward to reading about your life after divorce. Thanks again for the inspiration and support.
I checked out your blog, and you’re going to laugh when you read the post I’m working on!
thanks for checking out my blog. I look forward to reading it! I am working on my next entry which I will be posting soon.
Jen´s last blog ..No longer two, but one…
Soooo… are your parents reading this?? Pretty sure!
Anyway, you know this as well as I do, but you’re clearly not a failure. Anyone who can realize that they’re not in the right situation and can leave it so you can both go on and be happy with your lives, is nothing less than a better person for it. (Sorry that was a bit of a run on sentence. I’m on percocet right now!)
XOXO
Yep! I’m not sure I could do much to surprise the dear parents at this point!
Hope you feel better!