I realized my marriage was over the moment I stopped caring.
We were arguing not yelling or cursing, but having those quiet, tense conversations we learned to have so the kids wouldn’t hear. I remember sitting on our bed thinking, I’m done. I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to be his wife.
I love him deeply. He is my best friend. We raised our kids together, did all the family things, and enjoyed it. Our kids, 9 and 13, are full of personality, they can be outspoken, have their outbursts, but they are also funny, smart, and thoughtful. Being parents together has always been a joy, but being partners in marriage had become something else entirely.
The details of how we got here after sixteen years aren’t important right now. What matters is that we fought for our marriage. About seven or eight years ago, we started counseling between his military deployments. We did all the exercises: wrote about when we first met, explored what we liked about each other, discussed our love languages, and tried to communicate without blame.
We met at pivotal moments in our lives. He had just finished military training and returned to college, while I had just lost my grandmother. I’d been through failed relationships, and meeting him felt like a fresh start. We got married, had kids, and kept learning about ourselves while learning to be partners.
Some days felt like I was going through the motions as a stay-at-home mom. Meanwhile, he worked hard to provide for our family while managing a military career. Before his second deployment, our marriage was already struggling. After he returned, we decided to file for divorce.
At the same time, our son was diagnosed with mild-to-moderate Autism Spectrum Disorder. He started ABA therapy five days a week. I spent mornings at therapy with him and evenings attending cosmetology school. By the time I got home, the kids were asleep. We were both trying to improve ourselves and be better parents. And somehow, we found our way back to each other.
I graduated and got my cosmetology license, and two years after his deployment, after both individual and marriage counseling, we renewed our vows. It was beautiful. Our kids stood as best man and maid of honor, and our close friends stood as our bridesmaid and groomsman. We wrote our own vows, including a special verse in Gaelic he had me repeat a memory I’ll always cherish.
For a while, life felt smooth. We juggled careers and the kids’ schedules, rarely finding time for just the two of us, but always prioritizing our family. Over time, though, we drifted apart. I still loved him deeply, but I couldn’t be the wife he needed. We broke the news to the kids after Christmas. They were remarkably mature. My daughter said, “I kinda figured. So what happened?” My son was mostly concerned with practical matters, like his bedrooms and security cameras.
We’ve been living as roommates while waiting for the divorce to finalize. We share responsibilities: I have the kids Mondays and Tuesdays, he has them Wednesdays and Thursdays, and we alternate Fridays and Saturdays. Sundays are family days. We’ve agreed to keep dating private until it’s serious. Our main goal is to show our kids love and stability, and that we can still be a team even if we’re not a couple.
We’ve made changes at home too. A wall full of family pictures was replaced with a beach canvas surrounded by pictures of the kids at the shore. At first, my son hated it. After a few days, he liked it. My daughter understands changes too, saying, “It’s okay, things change.”
The kids are adjusting. They continue their activities and maintain their grades. Outside opinions are the hardest, people assume they know us or what’s best. We are careful who we share this journey with, and we give our kids the freedom to express their feelings with people they trust.
After sixteen years of love, challenges, and growth, I am proud of us. We loved, fought, forgave, and survived. Though we’re giving up the marriage, we get to keep our friendship. My husband put it beautifully: “We’re not waving a white flag. We’re taking a final bow.”
I don’t know what the future holds as we rediscover ourselves individually, but I have faith in our family, our love for our kids, and our respect for each other. My hope is that others in similar situations can learn to exit with grace, finding love and support in a new way, as friends, co-parents, and allies.
