By: Emily Carter
I left a note for my daughter, explaining that I was taking her younger brother to school and then would go for a brief run, promising I’d return in half an hour. She had gone to bed the night before feeling unwell, and her congested breathing indicated she needed rest. I allowed her to sleep in and informed her school that she would be home for the day. To be honest, I felt a sense of relief; I didn’t want to face the day alone.
My husband and I are separating, and I find myself grappling with a mix of relief and overwhelming guilt.
When I returned home, I found her sobbing in her father’s chair. Her face was not just red and swollen; it was as though my 11-year-old daughter had vanished. Her puffy eyes looked up at me, filled with confusion. I rushed over to her, and my heart sank. I should have stayed home. I felt like a failure.
“I don’t want Dad to move out,” she said, and in that moment, guilt didn’t just wash over me; it consumed me piece by piece. It felt as if its sharp teeth were tearing at my insides, leaving me feeling dirty and helpless. I couldn’t shake it off. I sat there, defeated, questioning my worth as a mother. Who did I think I was, leaving her to run when we had just dropped this bombshell the night before?
The following day, dropping my youngest at school, I was met with tears soaking his fleece jacket. I was torn; should I make him go or let him stay home? All I wanted was to wrap him in my arms and tell him everything would be alright, that his father and I had changed our minds. What kind of mother sends her kids to school when they are distressed about a separation? What kind of mother keeps them home because they are sad?
I’ll tell you: a real mother who loves her children fiercely and is battling through the day for them. I’ve done both.
The guilt crashes over me in waves, enveloping me completely, dragging me into its depths. I find it difficult to breathe, yet I can only focus on that. The waves don’t release me until they decide to. This guilt has the power to make me wear a mask for my kids, to try to rebuild and salvage what we can until they are older, hoping to forget the pain. Somewhere along the way, I’ve lost the ability to separate my feelings from theirs. Yes, I want them to be happy, but I also need them to be happy, and I recognize this need is selfish. Yet, that’s the reality of motherhood, and making them happy at my own expense feels incompatible, even when I believe we are making the right decision.
I know the guilt will continue to visit me regularly. It will perch on my shoulder, whispering that I’m not being truthful, that I’m a liar unworthy of the happiness I hope for, whatever that may look like.
I can try to suppress the guilt, fight against it, but it always finds its way back to me. People tell me not to feel guilty, that it will be better for all of us once we’ve made it through this “hard part,” but wishing won’t make it disappear. Instead, I must find a way to channel it. I will allow it to motivate me, transforming it into a force that makes me a better mother, one who is more attuned to her children’s emotions and her own. This guilt will not consume me; it will empower me to confront the feelings I’ve pushed aside while navigating this uncertain terrain.
I am someone who loves deeply and feels intensely. I have never shied away from sharing my story, even when it’s difficult. Yes, there’s guilt in writing about it, but this process is cathartic for me.
In the midst of turmoil, I often discover that I’m not alone; friends reveal their similar struggles, or I come across stories of others who have endured even tougher battles but emerged stronger, better than before.
This guilt is embedded within me, but I get to decide its influence. I can choose to let it consume me or to use it as fuel for growth. I can share my story in hopes of helping others. It’s about me now, not the guilt. I am taking charge of my narrative.
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Summary
This piece explores the deep-seated guilt experienced by a mother during her separation. It highlights the emotional turmoil of leaving her children while grappling with the implications of her decisions. Ultimately, the author emphasizes the importance of channeling guilt into a force for personal growth and increased emotional awareness, both for herself and her children.