The other day my husband and I had the hardest conversation you can have as a married couple. Did we still want to be together?
This was a topic that had been hiding in the wings for months but was quickly becoming the elephant in the room. We were arguing more and more. Our kids were getting out of control, our own anger and frustration bubbling over into their minds and attitudes as well. Many a fight had ended with the words, “I’ll just pack up and go to my parents’ house if you don’t want me here”, but without us really meaning them.
But the time had come to sit down and really assess whether we wanted to be in this together. If we were heading towards a split, it was clear that now was better than later for everyone involved. It would be hard, perhaps even impossible, but perhaps also right.
So we did it. We opened Pandora’s box and asked the question that was on everyone’s mind. Do you still want to be here? Do you want to be here with me? It was the hardest conversation of my life.
I asked the question and then waited with bated breath to see what he would say. With tears in his eyes, he said “I want to be with my kids….I want to be with my kids.”
And just like that, my world crumbled. Where was I in that statement? What path lay ahead of me?
But he saw the look on my face and realized what he had said. “I want to be with you,” he added. And as he watched me fall apart, he realized that he really meant it. He wanted to be with all of us. He wanted us to be a family, together, and to deal with all of the ups and downs associated with the decision.
We held each other there in the middle of the living room. Crying on one another’s shoulders as the kids played together, oblivious to the emotional rollercoaster taking place five feet from them.
We did it. We had the hard conversation. The outcome was positive, not because we decided to work on things, but because we really looked at our lives and made a decision together.
If you are sitting there like I was, hiding from the talk or fearful of what will come out of it, don’t be. Even in those moments when I thought I would be alone, mingled in with the heartbreak was a feeling of relief. We had done it, we had a direction and I could move forward, one way or the other.