Lindsey Garner
I'm just going to say it.

A little over a month ago, my husband and I decided to separate. There. I said it. It’s out there. I find the words getting stuck in my throat a lot, but it’s best if I just say it. We were already geographically separated due to his job, but this was more. This was a separation in the sense that required change. This meant we needed to get honest with ourselves and with each other. We had been fighting for months. Distance had become a canyon of space between us, with no bridge or footpath to cross. We were both pretending; making plans for a future that felt like us clawing to get out of that canyon, fingernails torn, knuckles bleeding. The plans felt more like wishes for what we once had, instead of goals set in excitement of a future together. I love him, there is no doubt. I think sometimes I love him too much, to the point where we both feel as if the world is closing in on us.I felt like I lived in a state of fear that he would leave. I felt like I wasn’t enough. He told me he wanted to take a job that would keep him permanently away from home, and he didn’t know what that meant for us. The fear grew. After all, I knew it. I knew he’d leave right? This is what I knew would happen all along, after all. That’s where my head was, at least. I know now how untrue that was, and it’s gross to say it all now, but in the essence of being naked, I will. The lump in my throat sat there for a week. I cried and made up stories in my head about what this meant, and what would happen. I felt sorry for myself. After all, this was my second failed attempt at marriage. There MUST be something wrong with me, right? But then, something shifted. I can’t explain it, but it happened. I called him, and before I had a chance to change my mind, I said “I think we should separate”. There. I said it again. With those words, something shifted. The pressure for more was released. The expectations were gone. We could just be enough for ourselves.
We are learning to be our own people again, and in doing so, are finding one another once again. I don’t know what will happen. I can’t say it’s easy, and I’m doing “AMAZING!”, but I’m being right here, in the moment. Today, it is good. That’s all I know.
Sometimes, hard things need to be said out loud.