Sometimes I look at this thing that I am contemplating doing, this leaving of my husband, and all I can see is the good parts of that. I would be free to explore who I am outside of a relationship, any relationship. I would be able to burn incense again. I could decorate the house how I want to. I could eat nothing but fruit all summer long. I could become a vegetarian without having to fight about why I wasn’t going to cook him meat anymore. I would learn to depend on myself. I would no longer have to feel alone all the time, despite the fact that I have a partner. I would potentially be able to find someone with whom I am actually be better suited. And most importantly I would, hopefully, no longer have him tethering me down and would instead figure out who I really want to be and then become that person.
But it’s not all positive, you know? I would have to explain to the little one about why Dada wasn’t around anymore. I would be giving up any speck of free time that I have. I would have to get a roommate, after living with nobody but him for 7 years. I’d be 30 years old and divorced. I would be admitting defeat. And I would be a single mother.
I don’t know how to ask for help. It’s something that’s gotten in my way, something that’s strongly affected my life in a million different ways. But it’s true … I don’t know how to ask for help. I don’t know to ask my friends, who have their own lives, who are all about to start having their own children, for help. I don’t think I can raise the boy on my own. I don’t think that I am emotionally strong enough to be the mother I want to be without ever getting a break. Because that’s what I’m talking about here.
And I know, I could hire a babysitter. Parents do it all the time. But I would be the primary care taker all the time. I would be the only one to go pick him up from school when he was sick. I would be the only one going to soccer games and school plays. I would be doing it alone.
The thing is that I know my friends will help. I know that my support system is stronger than I give them credit for. But I can not expect that my friends will raise my child. I can not expect them to become parents simply because I decide to leave my husband.
This is my biggest concern. This is what keeps me up at night. This is why I haven’t left yet.
The real question is … how different is that from how it is now? Not as different as you might think, but that doesn’t mean I’m any less afraid.