I don’t want my children to be dragged through a divorce.
My parents broke up when I was just five-years-old. I didn’t understand why I had a sippy cup of juice at my mother’s house during the week, and why there was an identical one at my father’s apartment. I didn’t understand why I took a “holiday” with one of my parents each week. I didn’t understand why I had to constantly be in a car, moving, pulled between the two places, two peoples lives.
I didn’t understand and I didn’t like it at all.
I promised myself that I’d never let this happen to my own children. I’d find the right man and I’d know everything there is to know about him – no surprises. There wasn’t going to be a divorce because we would be a perfect fit. You don’t cheat on, lie to or hurt your perfect fit.
But sometimes people are very good at pretending they’re perfect for you.
That was the man who became my husband. My ideal man. He was determined to achieve, aware of his responsibilities at work and in our home. He knew what I wanted, and more importantly, what I needed from a marriage. So it wasn't long before I was confessing "I do" in a white dress that fit perfectly. My perfect fit.
We had two beautiful children in the space of three years. What I saw as the perfect age gap. They'd grow up together playing with blocks and Barbies, and grow old together still making childish jokes.
But then our relationship quickly began to deteriorate.
He stopped calling me to tell me he was on his way home and sometimes, he didn't come home at all. Some of his excuses included going to see a friend, having a drink with an important client or working back late. Anywhere but with me. With our kids.