Redefining Family

“We have a plan, and we know that this is what is best for our family.”

Since my daughter was four years old when this conversation took place, I don’t imagine that this was the first lie I ever told her. But it was by far the biggest.

In reality, there was no plan. There was no conviction that this was the best option for our family. There was only my then-husband, suddenly and absolutely convinced that he needed to end our marriage, and me, shocked and distraught and desperate to save our family.

In those early days (and weeks, and months) of separation, I felt as though I was conducting my life from under water: only partially aware of the distorted sounds and sights going on around me, and distanced palpably from everything and everyone above the surface. Then there was the periodic, panic-stricken feeling of drowning: flail, struggle, gasp, repeat.

But somehow, slowly, a plan did emerge. The one, non-negotiable, absolutely central element of that plan was a little girl with my face and her daddy’s laugh. A little girl who didn’t ask for her world to be turned upside down, and who I knew needed stability above all things. I made it my mission to give her that stability in every way I could.

So I read, a lot. I spent many hours in therapy. I cried in my car more often than I’d like to admit. I talked to my daughter’s father about what I wanted for her life, and listened as he explained what he envisioned for her. I tried as hard as I could to mentally separate the feelings I had about my spouse from the feelings I had about the father of my child. I set clear expectations for how my family would treat my ex-husband during and after our divorce (do not criticize him in front of our daughter; be polite in all interactions; remember that he is half of her, and love that half as well).

And it was hard.

The three of us had family dinner once a week for the first year that we were apart. Those dinners were awkward and painful at first, but I believe they accelerated my healing. I couldn’t hide from my grief and pain. I had to process. I had to move forward.

Today, it has been years since we separated, and we don’t eat together every week, but we do spend time as a family periodically. Our get-togethers now include my second husband, who has become a part of our parenting team, and the four of us are becoming a strange but connected family. Best of all, our daughter is okay. She is loved, she is heard, and she is nurtured.

l won’t say that my divorce has been perfect, but it would be wrong for me to ignore all of the positive things that have helped make it more bearable - things that aren’t guaranteed in every divorce situation.

My ex-husband and I have always been very similar in our approach to parenting. Our families were (eventually) able to get on board with our way of doing things, and have become helpers in our process. My husband and in-laws have experience with blended families, and have embraced my daughter and me from the beginning. I am raising my child in the same city with her father, who is as dedicated to co-parenting as I am, and am able to share custody in a way that works for our family, a system which we established without court intervention.

Those are luxuries that are not afforded to every divorcing couple. There are many situations that make co-parenting difficult or impossible, and I don’t think for a second that our way of doing things is doable for everyone else. I fully recognize how privileged I am to have an ex-spouse who is a safe and invested parent, to have the ability to access and afford counseling services, and to have a strong support network.

Even with all of those things, this process can be difficult and painful at times. I cringe when I hear people say things like, “You put your kid first and you make it work. I wish more parents cared that much about their kids.”

Let me be clear: if you know a family that makes co-parenting look easy, remember that looking easy and being easy are not the same thing. And if you know a family that doesn’t seem to be getting it right, take a step back and remember that not everyone has the same situation to work with, and “right” doesn’t look the same for every family.

I don’t believe my journey to healing is finished, nor do I believe that my daughter has made it through this divorce completely unscathed. What I do know is that her father and I have worked to make her life as good as it can be, and that getting divorced didn’t destroy our ability to do that. We were a family before, and we are a family now. We are not perfect, but we are okay, and “okay” gives me a lot of hope for the future.