Back to Reality 

My ex husband and I have been spending a lot of family time together. We’ve sat down to have dinner as a family every time we meet up to swap kids for the weekend. I absolutely love that my little divorced family still shares a meal together every couple of weeks. A lot of ‘together’ families don’t even do that anymore.  

Lately those dinners have branched out into Sunday afternoons of hiking together and going to the theater. We’ve even discussed taking a vacation together this summer.   It feels like it’s a bit too much.  

I’m not going to lie, it feels good to get out and cover up that single parent shame. It feels good to see other families out together, and not long for that primal feeling of belonging to a tribe. Because I have that belonging feeling when I am with my family, even when we’re just pretending to be complete.  

I felt awkward when the lady at the park asked how old my dog was. I had walked my ex husband’s three-legged American bull dog down to the lake for a drink. I just looked at her, wondering if it was worth the effort to explain that I had no idea how old the dog was, because he belonged to my ex husband.  

‘He’s three.’ I was impressed with my ability not to share my story. To just keep it short and simple.  

The truth is, every one is always complimenting us on how well we coparent our children after the divorce. And we do an amazing job of it, now. But it hasn’t always been this smooth. It hasn’t always felt like a genuine friendship. It does now. But that friendship comes with a price.  

I am sitting here, smoking a hookah, getting my night cap on, thinking about how I will graduate in one week from massage school. A career I was pursuing when I had met my ex husband. I’m thinking about the two hour phone conversation last night that started out about the kids and ended with reminiscing about our first date when we got high on my parents front porch and listened to the frogs in the pond. We joked about how his suitcase was always packed because we fought so much and he was always running away. And I would always call him back. It felt like a conversation we would have had when we were dating. It feels like I’m time traveling through the late nineties. 

And my eight year old daughter cried after he left this past weekend. She has never done that before. She asked me so sweetly through her tears why her dad and I couldn’t get back together. ‘It can’t be so hard to just get married again.’ She demanded. I couldn’t help but laugh, appreciating her innocence and naïveté. I started to realize that all this family time was having an impact on her, that we hadn’t expected. It was having the same impact on me. Nostalgia is a seductive liar.  

Maybe spending so much time together is not as healthy as we had thought. It was like taking your dream car out for a test drive, and then walking home. A thrill for sure, but not realistic. So many obstacles lie between the car and me. The last time I drove it, the car was mine and I walked away. I didn’t want that car after I had it. I hadn’t wanted that car in years. But lately, I’ve been remembering all the things I loved about that car. Maybe the car reminds me of home. Maybe the car is my daughter’s idea of normal.  

There’s an aching inside me right now that wants to give her normal. But normal has never been an option in my life. I could never risk her heart to split our family up again. We have to keep aiming our lives in separate directions, because the pull towards family is very strong. But the pull towards each other is not.  

This retrograde is pulling at heart strings I had tucked away a very long time ago.


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Little Moon Talks

Deep thinking, wine drinking, lover of the moon. I started this blog after going through one of those explosive break ups that broke my mind just as bad as it broke my heart. I had to write my story out, so I could understand it. I was surprised at how healing the experience of sharing my story could be. So I kept writing. And I kept healing. I am a typical Midwestern single mother, who has been blessed with the task of raising a couple of sassy little feminists. My friends say I'm eccentric. They are probably right. I work in a cubicle during the week and am a massage therapist on the side. I also I write an astrology blog on Facebook and sell readings on Etsy and sometimes in person for the locals. I love this blog. It functions as a release valve for all the emotions I don't have time to process. It's also a way for me to put my wicked awesome iPhone photography skills to good use. I love my astrology blog as well, but wanted an outlet for more personal topics...the little conversations I have in the middle of the night when it's just me and the moon. I am passionate about empowering women, cultivating self worth, marijuana, wine, and my lifelong quest to understanding relationships. Thank you for checking out my page. I wish to remain somewhat anonymous here, but in return I promise to bleed my heart out into each and every blog I post.

2 thoughts on “Back to Reality ”

  1. “But that friendship comes with a price.” This is a very true statement. When children are young it’s difficult for them to decipher mom and dad being apart when they keep experiencing them together. It’s a paradox. A contradiction. The price is your freedom and allowing them to have false hope if there’s never going to be true togetherness. It’s like when you’ve been dating someone and you keep wondering, where is this going? Sounds like you need to have that conversation.

    Liked by 1 person

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