I’ve noticed a trend. Whenever I survive a huge change in my life, my mind drifts back to the graceful 30. I know there are people out there that have the capacity to blog while experiencing major life changes…I am not one of those people. So, here we are…years later…once again…I’m hoping to give this blog the time it truly deserves.

My life has changed. In big ways. In big, unexpected ways. I waltzed into my 30s expecting the type of life I’ve spent decades reading about courtesy of my favorite authors Nora Roberts, Jude Deveraux and Catherine Coulter. I had married my very best friend. We had taken friendship over its boundaries and into love. We had grown together. We had become a family. It was perfect. Gorgeous house, sweet puppy and the promise of this amazing new chapter in our lives. I didn’t think I could ask for anything more.

Things weren’t entirely perfect. They were pretty damn close to perfect but there was one thing I needed desperately that was missing. We never argued. We were always on the same page. Partners in everything. We loved to travel, play games, watch movies. It was so easy for us to just be. We never ran out of things to talk about. We challenged one another intellectually. We pushed each other to achieve great things. We laughed a lot. We had so much fun. So this one little thing that wasn’t perfect? I could deal with it. Eventually, this too would pass and we’d look back on our relationship and smile at all we had accomplished together. We had plans. Big plans and an understanding of the sacrifices it would take to get us there. I was on board. I made my own sacrifices. I put his career ahead of my own. I supported his aspirations and I waited. I waited for the one thing I so desperately wanted and needed. There was always a valid reason to put it off. I understood. Timing was everything, right?

Whenever I would voice my concerns, wants, needs…he’d hit me with the he’s “not happy in our marriage” talk and tell me “things needed to change”. I would freak out because I could never see his unhappiness. The only time I’d ever known about it was when I’d bring up mine. So, I’d snap back to the wife he wanted me to be to ensure he remained happy. I would shove my concerns, wants and needs aside…I needed to keep my husband happy. This cycle went on for years…whenever I’d stray off the path he wanted me on and try to communicate with him…he’d hit me with the talk and like a puppet, I’d straighten up. When I finally worked up the nerve to stand my ground with him his response to me was simple: “If having children is what it’s going to take to make you happy, you need to find someone else to be with.”

My world quaked.

People will ask if we never talked about having children. We did. We talked about everything. Before we got married and after. There was only one time he told me he didn’t want children before we got married. We were still dating and I didn’t say anything at the time. I stewed about his admission and realized that having children was non-negotiable for me. It saddened me but I didn’t believe there was any reason to continue a relationship that would go nowhere. I didn’t want to waste either of our times. It wasn’t right or fair to either of us.

Had I just walked away then, we may have still remained best of friends. I’d like to think it would have been an amicable separation filled with understanding and acceptance of our different desires. Unfortunately, two weeks after his initial confession, we were in his car heading to dinner and he turned to me and told me that he had had an epiphany that day. He told me that he had been thinking of his father and he realized not having children would be a huge mistake.

I never told him how close we had come to going our separate ways. I never told him my concerns about his initial confession nor how relieved I was when he had his epiphany. I loved him and we were really great together. I didn’t want to have to walk away from that and I was grateful I didn’t have to. While the memory of those two weeks has never been forgotten, I filed it away accepting his epiphany as the truth.

Years-removed from the situation, I could see clearly just how manipulated I had been in my marriage. I trusted blindly, accepted excuses willingly…after all, he was my best friend. If I couldn’t trust him as my partner who could I trust? I stayed longer than any sane woman would have and I suffered for it deeply. He had made me believe I was incapable of being desired or wanted. He made me feel repulsive and he played me. He betrayed the trust I had put in him as my husband and my best friend. He knowingly, willingly and selfishly ran out my biological clock while stringing me along and I don’t know if I will ever find it in my heart to forgive him.

The breakdown of our marriage was a long, lonely road. At a time when most people would lean on their best friends for guidance, support and love…I couldn’t. I had married mine. I had no one to talk to. No one who knew just how to help me wade through this miserable time in my life. And to make matters worse, the man who “wasn’t cut out to be a husband and was too selfish to be in a relationship” was out there dating as if I had held him back all of this time. Maybe I had.

So, here I am….closer to 40 than I am to 30…looking back on a decade that I had such high hopes for. Nothing has turned out the way I had hoped or expected it to. I would be lying if I said I didn’t harbor some bitterness. I wonder if I always will. These last few years have changed me and I am not entirely in love with the person I’ve become. However, I am well on my way to starting over and I hope to find a small shred of the girl – so full of hope, excitement, kindness, promise and love – that I used to be along the way.

– M.