A Year and Counting
It's been just over a year since my husband and I separated. We celebrated 23 years of marriage before that. It's strange the difference a year can make in perspective. I don't really mourn the loss of the person I was married to. I don't mourn our life together. I had been in mourning for the loss of self. I'm not going to fill these pages with the ways in which he wronged me, because I'm certain I'm not perfect and did plenty wrong. At the end of the day, it isn't about who's right or wrong, or who's to blame. What it's about is the fact that I don't like who I am when I'm with him. As I learn more about who my true self is, the more I see that we were probably never meant to be together, to begin with, but I'm not sorry for that time either. While I don't like who I am with him, I do like who I am with my kids. I believe that there's a reason that things happen the way they do, and that time served