When I was just 17 years old, my Year 12 teacher said to our class:
“Nobody gets married thinking they’re going to get divorced.”

I never understood the true significance of this until I was 32 years old.

I met my children’s father very young. I was only 17, he was 18. We fell in love quick, settled down and had a family very young. For over 14 years, we shared many good memories. We experienced many firsts together, learnt how to cook, moved out of home. In our first four years together, we had 3 beautiful girls.

I was adamant, for a long time, that he was the only person for me.

But our marriage didn’t last forever, a conclusion that broke both of us. A reality that had a heavy impact not just on each other but our children. For a long time, it was evident that neither of us were really sure if it was the right decision. But as time moved on, it became more clear.

Even as the clarity began to take shape, it didn’t make the process of the grief beyond separation any easier.

I remember nights where I would lie in my marital bed alone, crying and hating myself for making a decision that honestly hurt me so much. I remember the confusion in my children’s eyes, the confusion between he and I when we began the difficult process of shared care.

It didn’t feel right – to have our time with our children divided now, on a deadline, so split and unlike what we were used to for over a decade.

I remember hearing a song that their father had learnt to play on guitar for me on Valentine’s Day, how I had to quickly shut it off because the pain became too much. I remember walking past all the places we used to go to together and trying hard to numb the pain, numb the thoughts, numb how much I was aching on the inside.

Within time, the pain became less and less. Slowly, I was no longer painfully reminded by the same places, the songs didn’t make me cry any more – I didn’t have to skip forward, my grief was not too hard a burden to bear any more.

But the reality of divorce, the reality of the end still hurt to some extent.

Letting go of my marriage, letting go of my first love, was letting go of all the dreams I had for my future. This was the man I had planned to spend the rest of my life with. This was the man I thought I would grow with. Even through our many challenging times, I thought we really would make it.

I was still a Mum of three daughters but my memories of them would no longer be shared with him, they would be individual ones I would create, experience and form with only them. It was really a hard pill to swallow that my future was not the life I envisioned for myself.

As I learnt to come to terms with the past, with the present, and with my changing future – I came to truly understand that my decision had been the right one. Not just for me, not just for him, for our children as well.

You see, I once told their father that every time I looked at our children, I smiled because I remembered how much we loved each other.

That is still true. Even though our marriage did not last forever.

My three children are a daily remember that once a upon time, I really loved their father. That I loved someone enough to build a house with them, to have many firsts with, to share memories that I will always cherish and hold dear.

And whilst there are many reasons why our marriage didn’t last, I do not hold any anger, any resentment, for what happened. Because being with him and loving him, is what led me to being a Mother. And that is something I will always be grateful to him for.

The effects of divorce are long lasting. I know full well that they will shape how my children see relationships, see marriage, see themselves, see life. It does not make me feel good at all that they will face many struggles that children of non-divorced families won’t experience.

I am well aware that there is and will be complexity to our blended families, that more than likely, my children will always wonder or hope that their Mum and Dad had worked out.

But for me, I am at peace with where my life is. Both he and I are living happier, fulfilled lives. Just not together.

I will always be grateful for the time we shared together, for the family we created with our children, and that time will serve as a reminder that nothing needs to last forever for it to be significant and meaningful.

My three children were the best thing to have ever happened to me and without their father, I wouldn’t had the privilege of experiencing such happiness.

As much as divorce turns your life upside down, the pain does stop. The tears do fade. And you learn to breathe fresh air into your life, to find enjoyment in the same things you used to love, and to create new memories with the new people in your life.

I have since re-married and I am grateful that divorce did not break me, it did not tear all hope of love away from me, that I was able to love again.

Love does not always hurt, it does not always end. Love can have a happy ending.