… Because the testing of your faith produces perseverance… So you may be mature and completeApril 22, 2012
“Don’t you wish you could go back and avoid that whole mistake?”
I do not regret my marriage to Ben. Had I a choice, I wouldn’t undo my decision to marry him.
And I’m not one of those ‘live without regrets’ people. I do have regrets. That’s just not one of them.
Maybe because I don’t consider it a mistake.
I was young, but I knew exactly what I was doing. I knew the vows I was taking and I was committed. Extremely committed and faithful, to my spouse and to my family, until the day I was told to cut it out and move on because there was no chance of reconciliation.
On a couple of occasions I entertained the thought that it’d be fairy-tale nice if I could be one man’s wife and keith’d be the only one I promised to spend the rest of my life with, the only one I shared the marriage experience with.
Sure. That’d be lovely I guess. But thats just not…. us . First, our relationship has been unorthodox and backwards from the start. And I love it that way. It’s been the greatest adventure of my life. And we would have never met up or become who we are as a couple without our backgrounds.
And also, despite second marriage/ blended family fail statistics, my experience, if anything, taught me that I *know* I have what it takes to succeed. I have issues, but where it counts I’m solid and secure and confident. I know my strength. I know I have the ability to lead my heart when my emotions are tugging me in a thousand different directions. I know how to decide to love and fight for that love in the face of betrayal and hurt and hopelessness. I know the power of forgiveness and grace- giving it, asking for it, accepting it. I recognize the mistakes I made in my pervious marriage. I know how relationships fall into ruts that seem inescapable and I can easily identify the warning signs along the way. I know what to look for and I know the behavior patterns to avoid.
…Deep betrayal and heartbreak tends to strengthen your core and soften your edges. I’m less rule-bound, fundamental, and insecure in my faith. It’s easier now for me to admit how much I don’t know, how much I never knew, how little control I actually have, and how easy it is for me to screw up. I know what it’s like to find yourself at rock bottom and have no idea how you got there. I’m okay with admitting I’m as weak and flawed as any, and I’ve learned to TRULY understand, commiserate, and offer compassion and mercy.
At that, I have adry. Although this experience has been tough on him and challenging for me as his mother, I cannot express how thankful I am to have him and that I appreciate how motherhood has shaped me and my life. I’d relive all the bad parts if only to have him with me now and a part of me and Keith’s life together.
A failed marriage is not what I dreamed up as a little girl, nor what I prayed for as a teenager, nor what I expected as a young bride. But not only have I accepted it, I’m grateful for the experience and invaluable life lessons. I don’t feel gypped, I’m not bitter, I don’t hold any grudges. I’m happy and I look back on good memories fondly. And I could not be more happy about where I’m at now and who I’m with. I’m capable of a much deeper, raw, and honest love, and it feels good to be vulnerable with someone I absolutely adore and trust to know me fully and love me completely.
I feel passionate AND safe.