It’s been over 2 months now since Jon I decided to get divorced. I’ve wrote and rewrote this post at least half a dozen times. In a time when endless information is just a google search away, I haven’t been able to find any sort of advice on how to continue a blog after divorce.
I contemplated deleting this blog completely, and then starting a new one months or even years down the road. But I love this little corner of the internet that I can call my own, I’ve missed the connections i’ve had with other bloggers, as well as the feeling of contentment it’s brought to write about my joys and my struggles. It’s also given my son a presence in the world that he wouldn’t have otherwise, my soul needs that.
Recently (finally) I started going to counseling in hopes to figure out how to put the pieces of my heart back together and try to salvage any chance of eventually feeling whole again.
My therapist knew I found blogging to be extremely therapeutic especially after the baby died, and she asked me what I planned on doing with my blog.. the conversation went something like this:
“I plan on deleting it, and starting a new one later.”
“What makes you feel like you have to delete it?”
“I feel like in a way I’ve been dishonest. Like I consider myself to be somewhat of an open book when it comes to certain parts of my life, but on here I exaggerated our relationship from the beginning and portrayed life as being significantly better than it really was.”
“That’s interesting that you say that as if it’s a bad thing. I wouldn’t say you were being dishonest, I’d say you were being a human being with hopes and dreams and desires. You used your blog as a coping mechanism, a way to try to deal with a void in your life. Your positive voice about your relationship despite the facts is admirable.”
“I get what you’re saying, but because I’ve been somewhat unrealistic, I fear that it will appear like I’m taking this lightly. I worry that because people don’t and can’t know the reality, they won’t understand.”
“Maddie, I haven’t known you for more than a handful of hours, but I already know you are the type of person that would give their marriage everything they could give. I understand that divorce isn’t understood or very accepted in this culture, but I think people will be more understanding than you think.”
That was over a month ago.
I know that this direction is the right one. I’m pretty open about my feelings, but out of privacy and respect for both Jon and I, I will not share any details on here. I will always feel a certain love and respect for Jon. He was my husband for nearly 2 years, and he is the father of my son. This is by far the hardest thing I’ve ever gone through, including losing my baby. And there is one thing that is certain: unless a person has been in the marriage, they cannot understand.
And even though I know that this is right, it is yet another major loss. The loss of potential, the loss of future hopes and dreams. The loss of relationships with people I love and care about. The loss of the chance to have a family anytime soon or the opportunity to be a mom again in the near future. The loss of identity, really.
I now have to pick up the pieces and start from scratch, and it’s traumatizing and liberating all at once.
And as I’ve begun this new life transition, as I’ve started down the pathway to healing, I’ve learned that just like after my son died: I need to take things one day at a time. Writing this post was a major step in the healing process, and it took more courage than I was expecting.
At this time, please pray for me. Please pray for Jon. And if you know anyone who can relate, I would love to connect with them.
Thank you for all of those who have always been so loving and supportive.
♥♥♥♥♥♥
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