My husband and I are going through a rough patch in our 12-year marriage that is testing the vows we promised one another and shaking a foundation I thought was immovable.
I went into this relationship with the best of intentions; envisioned shiny dreams about my happily ever after with my chosen one and for all intents and purposes I thought we were on track. We were going to make it and defy the odds; the dissolution of our marriage and the dreaded D word was not even a blip on the radar screen.
No the scope of a marriage encompasses so much more. It’s about the little things like; paying the electric bill, watering the lawn and doing without that last drop of milk for your coffee because you know you should save what’s left for your spouse.
But of course those are the mundane details of every life; married or not- the responsibilities you face when you leave the comfort of your parents home and try and make your way as an adult.
If anything, as a member of this marriage tribe you’re convinced that having a partner in crime, with whom to share these routines and rituals, will make fulfilling them all the more richer and sweeter.
However when problems beyond your control rear their ugly head, problems you never imagined you’d have to contend with, were you not legally bound to this person via this marital contract you signed more likely than not under the influence of a heady courtship complete with visions of over the top-weddings cakes dancing in your head- you’d likely be making a beeline for the nearest exit.
Of course once you factor kids into the equationâ€¦all bets are off. When your kids, with their doe-eyed like innocence, get caught in the crossfire of your heated marital discord you feel akin to Satan robbing them of their perfectly constructed universe where happy endings reign. And like the sponges they are, regurgitating every last detail of the argument you and their dad displayed in their presence, you feel guilty beyond reproach that you’ve embedded a memory in their consciousness that you’re fully aware they’ll carry with them into adulthood.
You want nothing more than to give them that fairytale too; you want to shield them from the possibility that sometimes life is not all clean manufactured Pixar happiness, that it can be messy and complicated and happily ever after does not look the same for everyone. You tell yourself you won’t and that you simply can’t allow your child to become a casualty of your inability to make your marriage work. So you take a deep breath and you try, yet again and you hope for the best.