I would definitely fall into the Angst category. I always said it would be so much easier if he were a jerk, but he wasn’t. Perhaps I was trying to push him into being one, or pushing him to finally say, “enough, I’m out”. That never happened, and probably never would have. I had to make that agonizing decision and finally say, “I can’t do this anymore.”

I actually started thinking about divorce almost immediately after getting married. At the time, I had no idea why. I blamed it on leaving home and being a complete grown up now. My soul knew better. Deep inside, I knew if I stayed my soul would starve. I was becoming a person I didn’t respect, and I was making irresponsible and selfish choices. I had a lot of potential and character and I wasn’t doing either of them justice. Yet, it took almost 30 years.

My hand was pushed and the breaking point for me was when he hired a PI. I knew I had to go. I felt like a caged animal. We were married almost 27 years when I left, a few days before my 50th birthday.

For years, my spouse was in denial. He reached out to all my friends and family. It was devastating, and he refused to accept the reality of what was happening. He went through many phases. The first being over the top nice and accommodating. I knew anger would come and I almost welcomed it. I knew the anger also meant acceptance.

Why didn’t I leave earlier? Because I’m was raised to be a “good little Jewish girl” who always did everything right and never broke the rules, I couldn’t imagine doing something that would so rock everyone’s world. It would be the first totally selfish act of my life and it scared me to death! What would my family think, what would his family think, how would my daughters deal with it? I also was primarily a stay at home mom. I knew he wouldn’t leave and I couldn’t afford to pay for another residence. The timing happened the way it did for a reason. I regret the process, not the outcome.