The Darkness of Divorce

Divorce.

Where do I begin?

I guess, as the cultural paradigm shifts, the action married couples take for divorce is a common phenomenon. It seems as though parents are getting divorced just as quickly as they are getting married. Parents are taking more action in trying to establish their own happiness—doesn’t matter their age.

At what cost? Children, old and young, are becoming more and more accustomed to these adult figures that are meant to showcase the “ideal” relationship. They have to learn to tolerate the realization that both of their parents – who were supposed to love each other unconditionally—no longer wish to spend the rest of their lives as a unified couple.

Do not misunderstand; there are many cases of divorced parents who are still phenomenal friends and work together to raise their children. However, the existence of these relationships feels minuscule. This is simply my perspective, not a factual statement. Please do not get the two confused.

My story of divorce comes from quite a unique perspective. One that, I hope, will make all types of parents—new or veteran—reconsider the way their divorce transpires in front of their children. It is an attempt to educate others while giving children—all ages—of divorce a helping hand. To help the ones who feel lost inside this ominous black hole created by a series of decisions they do not control.

First, a little background fluff to “set the mood” and allow you to thoroughly picture the past six years of a divorce that changed my life and perspective on relationships.

I come from an upper-middle class family. In the beginning, both of my parents held a steady, salary-based job. For the first five years of my life, I watched my parents perform the tedious action of balancing work, their social lives, their child, and their relationship—a feat all parents can relate. It wasn’t until my younger brother was born did my mother trade in her work attire for a life of raising us two unpredictable miniature humans.

On the outside, everything seemed wonderful. My family possessed a stable home, consistent income, a great bill of health, a huge family support system, and anything else one could imagine. But…that is how it always starts, isn’t it?

For 25 years, my parents remained resilient. For over two decades, my parents held their vows made under watchful eyes of an audience. Twenty-five years of marriage. Then, suddenly, a feat I never thought would occur sent my entire family into disarray. Chaos ensued. Relationships shattered. Resentment manifested, and forever it would stay.

At the time of the deception, my younger brother—18 years old—and myself—22 years old—caught our father cheating on our mother. One day during the summer, while my mother was away on vacation, my brother caught our father texting on a phone that was NOT his every day cellular device. Not believing our assumptions, we investigated. Technology and perseverance was our only friend. We hacked his laptop and infiltrated his phone, receiving the texting thread between the “other woman” and him. Yes, we were aware this was a huge invasion of our father’s privacy. With that being said, the incriminating evidence proving him guilty of our original assumption was detonating! To say many sleepless nights followed this discovery was an understatement. The night after our mother returned from her vacation, my brother and I had to tell her the truth. With the 50 pages of conversation in my hands, it fell to the job of the oldest sibling—me—to break the imminent news. Our lives were never the same, and that night will forever remain as a vivid volcanic eruption forever painted in the back of my mind.

The news flew through my lips and the 50 pages scattered across the room. Screams and swears filled our once peaceful home. My father attempted to pack his belongings, only to have my mother follow him with more brazen banter. The verbal fight continued outside. My younger brother played the “peace keeper” and I insentiently packed my father’s belongings that scattered their bedroom floor. Mother screamed as he walked to his car. I came with his suitcase and he simply…clicked the receiver to open the trunk. I. Me. His daughter was the one loading the suitcase into his vehicle. I stood at the top of the driveway watching the blinding white headlights stream away from my view.

My thoughts? I needed the moment to sink into my mind. To prove to myself that he was not the person I knew. It was all very real. Just like that, he was gone.

The year long divorce full of mediation and custody logistics was ugly. Both parents were pitting me against the other. The nickname of “pig” “monster” “heartless” will forever and always find their way out of my mother’s mouth. As for my father, he never fully acknowledged the incident. He met me once at the beginning of the legal paperwork process—my senior year in undergraduate school—to talk about the situation. He cried. He expressed how sorry he was, but after that meeting, it was as if nothing had ever happened.

My undergraduate graduation was not a happy day. My family was split in half. My dad sat alone while my mother sat with my younger brother and godmother. After the ceremony, my father disappeared. Photos were taken with those who remained. That same summer, I moved 1,200 miles away from home to pursue my master’s degree. While my mother cried the day I left, silence was all I heard from my father.

During my time away, my mother contacted me as much as any highly concerned Italian mother. My father? The most I’d receive was a few texts about his life, the infrequent communication with my younger brother, and a few sentences about my schooling. A couple of sentences were all I was allowed when explaining my graduate studies and struggles. A trend that only got worse over time.

The day I walked across that stage to receive my master’s diploma, two years later, was the most gut-wrenching, stress filled, chaotic mess I had experienced since that night. Each parent could not be around the other. I was forced to lie about my plans to prevent the backlash of emotional turmoil from punching me in the stomach. This way, every parent was happy. Coordinating time between them to prevent them from running into the other brought me to tears on the day of my ceremony. This was an accomplishment to share with those who meant the most to me. Instead, I was too busy being worried about how to balance my incessant family and not cause any problems for both parents. My younger brother aided in securing time, out of the entourage that was my mother’s side of the family, where I could take a photo with my father. He met my two closest friends and within minutes, he had left.

It has been five years since the divorce. My mother has grown to accept the event. She tries her best to keep her opinions to herself about my father. My father still reaches out—via text message—asking about why my younger brother does not contact him, indulges me about his life, and then asks quickly about my own. The never-ending fight for visitation on Christmas happens every year.

You have heard, in brevity, my story. The darkness that lives inside the act of divorce is not mythical. It is completely and unreservedly real. For those who have tried to rectify their marriage, and do not see a solution to the issues that remain, I simply ask you to be thoughtful. Think about what your children see, what they hear, and to think about how they will remember you. It does not matter their age, clearly, or in which parent the child favors. Give your child, or children, a chance to develop on their own when it comes to this type of a situation. For the children going through divorce, you are not alone. Many have experienced this and as much as it hurts, it will make you a stronger person. It will show you what you don’t want in your own future relationships. It is nothing you did or could have done to change the outcome.

We are all human. Humans are meant to make mistakes. But for the mental health of your children and the mental health of yourself, please do not make the same mistakes as my parents. It will bring your children years of suffering. Help them transition during this process by sealing away your resentment and unresolved issues. On their happy days, try your best to not make them feel the way I have felt. It will be better for you and for them.

Remember, there is darkness within divorce. Darkness that, if one is not careful, can overtake everything it touches. Do not let this happen. Fight it even when you cannot. If not for yourself, at least for the ones you care for the most.