The decision to divorce was unavoidable, yet I truly believed that a contentious split could be avoided. At the beginning, for the welfare of my children, I committed to parting ways with my ex-husband in the most amicable manner possible. I shared my intentions with him, and on his good days, he would concur. His public persona supported this notion, as did the parts of him that interacted with our extended families and, for the most part, the part that engaged with our children.
In spite of our personal grievances, we both vowed to make our divorce as peaceful as we could. To uphold this commitment, we chose to use a mediator instead of attorneys and the court system to navigate the divorce process. We believed this approach would not only save us potentially tens of thousands of dollars but also lessen the conflict and stress our children would endure. Why hand over our hard-earned money to lawyers when we could have a mature discussion facilitated by a neutral third party? It was a noble thought.
I often think about high-profile divorces, like that of Emma and Jack, where Emma never utters a single negative word about Jack. She even crafted a sweet Instagram tribute to him for his birthday. In a recent interview, she reflected on the challenges they faced, stating, “It was tough, but I’m proud of how we put our children first.” As someone who has always prioritized my kids, I can’t help but read between the lines of her words.
When discussing my ex, I speak nothing but praise about him. In front of the kids, I elevate him as the epitome of a great father. To anyone who knows both of us or is familiar with our children, I smile and assert that our divorce is as amicable as it gets. And, on the surface, it is.
But behind closed doors, it’s a different story, and that’s the most challenging aspect of an “amicable divorce.” I can’t help but wonder if Emma truly feels love for Jack or if their glowing portrayal of friendship masks the threat of bitter disputes and drawn-out legal battles, as I experienced.
While they may be the models of civility she describes, for me—and many others—it wasn’t like that. In my attempt to shield my children from the pain of a hostile divorce, I sacrificed my own truth, which ultimately left me emotionally and materially scarred. My ex was aware of my desire to protect the kids from a nasty separation and exploited it to manipulate me. He said hurtful things, knowing I wouldn’t retaliate for fear of impacting our children. He was confident I wouldn’t confide in our mutual friends, understanding I would go to great lengths to avoid damaging their perception of him. He leveraged my commitment to the kids to negotiate me out of assets that were rightfully mine. The looming threat of “if you want to play hardball, I’ll see you in court” was always present.
He made so many hurtful remarks that I began documenting them in a journal. Whenever I witnessed him acting like a model citizen in front of our mutual friends, I found it hard to reconcile that with the awful things he’d said to me. It made me question my sanity. To combat that feeling, I would reread my journal entries to ground myself in reality. I kept convincing myself that I just had to endure it.
I did manage to get through it, but it was often frustrating, isolating, and sometimes unbearable. There were days when I struggled to get by, longing to share my truth with someone. My close friends had become distant, as they were connected to my ex, and when they inquired about my well-being, I couldn’t reveal the reality. I wished to confide in them about my struggles like I would with any other difficult situation. I wanted to tell them that I couldn’t stand being around my ex anymore, that he wasn’t who they thought he was, and that our supposed “amicable divorce” was anything but.
Yet, I remained silent. Now that the divorce is finalized and my ex has naturally drifted away from many of our shared friends, I have begun to open up to a few of them. It has been validating to hear that they saw through his façade.
In the end, like Emma, we managed to safeguard our children’s emotional well-being. They were blissfully unaware of the turmoil beneath the surface, and I hope they never discover how ugly it truly was. So, I am relieved that I chose the high road.
However, it was undoubtedly the hardest part of my divorce.
For more insights on navigating complex relationships, you might find this post interesting.
Summary
The complexities of an amicable divorce can often lead to hidden emotional turmoil. While the intent may be to protect children from conflict, the reality can be quite different, as one parent finds themselves sacrificing their own truths for the sake of maintaining peace. Despite the challenges, the ultimate goal remains the well-being of the children, even if it comes at a personal cost.