Yesterday, I saw something that had never happened before, something incredibly moving, and it melted my heart. In the blue dusk, my partner stood ankle-deep in the ocean with one of my children on either side, holding their hands. Why is this so unusual? Because my partner isn’t my kids’ dad. No, they have a perfectly good dad who lives a few streets away and has them one week in every two.
My marriage broke down just over a year ago, and I am only now climbing to my feet. It is just in the last few months that I have been able to use words like “ex-husband”, “divorce”, and “step-parent”. They seemed words invented for other people, not for me. As a child of a broken home myself, I was determined to keep my family together. The ideal proved too much for me to maintain, however. The separation was amicable, but crushingly sad.
And the guilt has been devastating. I can still cry thinking about the day my son said to me, “But you promised you and daddy would never split up.” His eyebrows were pink, like they used to get when he cried as a baby. I can’t remember making that promise: I must have made it in the past when a marriage breakdown seemed inconceivable. But the guilt about falling in love with somebody else, somebody who isn’t their father, has been particularly acute. And not just from their perspective: my partner is significantly younger than me, and not at the stage in his life when children are on his mind. I come as a package deal and he understands that, but it has been difficult for me to relax when we’re all together. What if my kids annoy him? What if he annoys my kids? I’ve maintained a catlike state of readiness, pouncing on interactions or topics of conversation that might get out of hand, lead to doubts or tantrums. I wanted desperately for them to like each other, as a prelude to something deeper down the track.
In the end, time and closeness did the trick. Talking, laughing, watching cartoons, building sandcastles. They started by tickling and giggling, hugging goodbye and hello, moved to sitting in his lap unprompted, kissing his cheek for no reason. Now they’ll turn to him when they need something, they even have massive screaming rages in front of him: I guess that means they feel comfortable.
Once I saw my marriage breakdown as an awful thing that closed down my children’s lives. Now I see it so differently. There are more people to love: not only my partner and his family and friends, but also my ex-husband’s partner, her family and friends, maybe even half-siblings that might come in the future. Their horizons are opening up and up, and it may be chaotic, and it may sometimes be sad or difficult, but it isn’t less of a life this way. It’s more.
Kids are so artless. If they feel something they say it. My five-year-old told me yesterday that my partner is the “handsomest man in the kingdom, and I do decree that you shall marry”. The gears are changing in this new relationship, and even the children can feel it. We are all sinking deeper; and that’s okay, because we are all sinking together.
Kim Wilkins has published over 20 novels. She is a former bogan who now has a PhD and teaches writing and literature at University of Queensland. She has two young children and lives in Brisbane. You can read more about her here.
Introducing a new partner into your life, is it ever easy?
Top Comments
This is not a comment directly on Kim's story but about divorce in general. I think that too many people put themselves before their children when they choose to divorce. People always say that if the mother is happy then the children will be happy, but I don't always believe this to be the case. People underestimate the effect divorce has on children and there is a common belief that 'kids are tough and they adapt'. I think more people should work on their marriages (and of course I'm not talking about ones where abuse and violence is involved. Marriage breakdowns are devastating for children and the effect on them cannot be underestimated. I believe that in many circumstances you should stay in an unhappy marriage for the sake of the children - they didn't choose to be in that relationship, you did and why should they suffer because you've decided you've had enough and 'deserve' to be happy? The happiness of the children is more important in my opinion. My marriage is far from happy at times but we put on our happy faces and make it work for the kids, to give them what they are entitled to which is a happy carefree childhood.
Agree completely! I say this as someone in my late 20s whose mother left her father last year because she also thinks that she deserves to be happy. Of course, all bets are off when it comes to abusive relationships but generally speaking, I have an aversion to divorce as well. And again, this is not directed specifically at Kim, but my thoughts more generally.
If one party is, or both parties are, unhappy, try to figure out why. Communicate. Seek a third party (a counsellor, not of the other type!) to get an impartial perspective. Figure out how you can make a shared life that also makes you both happy. And recognise that relationships are hard work, they're not always fun, they can be tiring and boring and frustrating, but they can also be incredibly rewarding, especially when people are in their 70s, 8s, 90s and they have a lifetime of shared memories to reflect upon.
Anyway, my 2c on the matter - even in my third decade, being the child (offspring?) of a broken home is not easy and I struggle to understand how the lifelong commitment all of a sudden became conditional on someone being able to maintain the same feelings that they had when they were 18, how 30 years and four kids together wasn't worth trying a bit of marital counselling. Relationships evolve over time, they become less lustful, more caring, an arrangement for convenience (at times) and then, hopefully, a deep and lasting friendship and companionship which hopefully does not preclude sexual activity. To chase after romantic sensibilities that are better suited to a 16 year old is foolish and I don't think that my mother will ever get what she wants. Unfortunately for my father, he doesn't want anything else - just her.
This is part of what I wrote on my blog a few hours after I found out the new, which was just after returning from a lovely weekend away:
In Paris, like most major cities around the world, there are homeless people which is not something we see around here. Homeless people sleeping in tattered, unwashed sleeping bags outside the bottom of buildings where apartments cost upwards of a million euros. The contrast between the differing experiences of the human condition is something that guide books never write about but, for me at least, is one of the greatest things that you can learn when you travel. Upon reflecting on our weekend in Paris last night, we spoke of this. To give or not to give. I recounted that, for my first six months living in London, I gave change to all the beggars I came across, despite barely having enough money for my rent. In my youthful naivety I thought that this was the most honorable thing to do. Now, I prefer to give food. If I have an apple or some chocolate in my bag, I will give it to someone who claims hunger. For I can never know whether the money I give will go to drugs - in which case I am funding a scourge on society - or whether it will go to a hot meal. My conscience is clean this way.
Our weekend in Paris prompted plenty of discussion like this and extended into a broader discussion on the state of humanity. Superficiality. Violence. Greed. Poverty. What can we do to change things? How can we live with a clean conscience while others can't feed themselves, their families, protect them from war and violence? I guess there is no easy answer to this. The solution probably starts with little acts of kindness. Checking in on a neighbour. Helping an elderly person cross the road safely or put their groceries in the car. Talking to someone doing it tough on the street. Giving your time to someone, to listen to their problems, without judgement. Writing a letter to a prisoner. Smiling at a rude checkout assistant. Thanking someone.
Funnily enough, one of the easiest ways to be happy is to make others happy, to give time or money or support to others. Too often we get caught up in what we want, what will make us happy? To live in a new country? To buy a bigger house? To earn more money? To leave our partner for a life, free and single, that we believe will be preferable? Often, the problem is that we're not taking enough happiness from the life that we're blessed with. We are not enjoying what our own country has to offer us, choosing instead to become part of the rat race, commuting, working, commuting, watching TV, sleeping. We are not enjoying the house that we already have, the joyful memories that we've made in the house. We are wanting to buy more, but for what - clothes that will be worn three times, probably fabricated by children working horrendous hours in dubious conditions; TVs that we'll waste more time in front of; cars that will cost us more in repairs and maintenance than they're worth? We are not investing time in maintaining our relationship, in discovering new things together, in taking enjoyment from a simple nightly conversation where we can discuss the highs and lows of our day, in supporting each other through the difficult times and in receiving support, in telling each other how much they mean to us and for thanking them for the small things.
Perhaps, firstly, we need to be grateful for what we've got. Then we need to think about something, anything, that we can do once a day to make the life of someone else a little bit better. And then do it.
I came back from Paris last night a little more grateful for what I've got. To see the dichotomy, to have it thrust in my face as it is when a homeless person approaches us on the train to ask for money for food, is confronting but ultimately something that improves us as humans, if we allow it to. We can't stop people from dying of hunger or violence or war but we can be content for what we have and perhaps extend ourselves to share a little of our own good fortune in whichever way we can.
There are hundreds, thousand of homeless people in Australia. It's absolutely disgusting that we have such a high rate of homelessness.
Not just the mentally ill who are, sadly, very prone to homelessness but young people living on the streets from a very young age.
Young families living in cars. Seniors who can't get housing commission and/or are on waiting lists for years.
We should be disgusted with our tragic level of homelessness in Australia. There should not be one homeless person here. We have badly let down our fellow humans and something urgently needs to be done.
I strongly agree with you. The old saying 'kids are resilient' to me is a code for 'well I know its not the best thing for the children but I want to do it anyway'.. To throw your family away because you get the hots for someone else new and exciting, and lets face it thats why most men leave their wives, is so selfish its beyond comprehension. And as for the justification that children are better off with happy parents who are apart rather than miserable parents together, I doubt most kids would even be aware of their parents marriage being less than perfect. Unless of course its a violent home and thats another story completely, most kids just love their lives as they are and accept mum and dad as they are and dont want that to change. Little children deserve a childhood where their parents can put their desire for a new love life on hold and provide them with stability and security. They only get one childhood, but theres plenty of time for parents to move on when their kids are older enough to understand.
Funnily enough I just spoke to a friend going through a divorce and she said in hindsight she wishes they had stayed together and soldiered on for their children. The children are so damaged from the process and its not fair on them.
Agree completely! My remark "we do not see it around here" was made not referring to Australia but where I live in the French country side, in a small village.
It is almost criminal that Australia is one of the richest countries in the world but that there is not enough money to go round (read: it is not worth being spent on homelessness) to provide basic housing for the most vulnerable people in our society.
Yuck yuck yuck! I'm reading lots of comments about re-partnering after divorce and the first word I come up with is yuck! I'm really glad it works for some people but coming from a broken home myself and currently going through a separation from my husband all I can think is 'no, I don't want this!'. Life is hard enough, I just sincerely hope my husband an I can work through our crap and save our marriage. I really don't ever want to be in the situation that many of you are in!
Sezzard, i"ve bee really worried about you as I'm sure have many others. Are you ok? how are you going? xxxx
Thank you, yes I'm ok for now. My husband didn't show for his visit with our son on Tuesday and I am still waiting for a response why from him. I've decided to just focus all my energy on me and my son and hope that my husband eventually realizes his mistake - as soon as his family butt out and back off. But thankyou for your thoughts, I do really appreciate them! Xx