Talking About the Elephant in the Room

Strength and beauty after the crisis  (Boulders spewed by Mt. Irayat, an active volcano: Valugan in Basco, Batanes, 2014)

Last weekend, an article about divorce in my Facebook newsfeedcaught my attention.  Entitled, My Mom's Generation Doesn't Have to Understand My Divorce, the piece was so relatable.  It reminded me of the ordeal I had to go through as I went through my own marital crisis.  Perhaps nothing was more hurtful than the reaction of and lack of emotional support from my mother and her siblings. Although I came from a generation different from the millennial author, I could resonate with so much of what she talked about - the judgment leveled on us, divorced and separated women, as being selfish and unable to cope with the normal challenges of married life; the internal struggle we went through before arriving at the decision to part ways with our partners; the double standard by which our post-separation households and lives were measured against; the inability to appreciate the love and concern for our children; and the financial setbacks we've had to consider.

On the evening of the same day that I saw the article and shared it on my wall, I went to a family gathering. Wanting to spend some time with my balikbayan aunt-in-law, I sat by her side to catch up. How was she adjusting and managing her jet lag? How was life for them in Toronto? With her many physical ails, was she still able to cook and go around? Little did I know that our conversation would lead to my marital status, the proverbial elephant in the room in our family gatherings.

To my delightful surprise, my aunt showed a deep appreciation for what came out of my marital separation. Unlike my mother and her siblings who thought that I should have taken the more travelled path of the victim and martyr, my aunt was more appreciative of my inner strength to have stood my ground and let go of a relationship that didn't work anymore, of how it was so much better to live separate lives instead of staying together where love doesn't reign anymore.  There was affirmation of how well I've raised my son despite the challenges of a single-parent household.

It's not often that a conversation on my marriage with my family would leave me feeling affirmed and grateful. What's even more remarkable is that such conversations would take place with in-laws rather than with my blood relatives. While I've always taken pride in the life I've made for myself and for my son after the separation, it still feels good to be affirmed in my life choices. It is so easy to get caught in the all-for-the-best-interest-of-the-child trap, but I have always known deep down inside that I could never have been the good parent that I  believe I am now had I compromised my sense of Self. As the author of the above link aptly said, "I was confident in taking the calculated risk. Not because I believe marriage is disposable, but rather because my soul doesn't have a price."

I hope someday, this author will find an exception to the rule, i.e., someone from her mom's generation who will truly understand and appreciate her journey.