I’m Not Failing at Marriage. I’m Succeeding at Separation.
I finally have the time and space to deprogram, detox, and deconstruct
I’m currently on sabbatical from my marriage. I’m removing myself from the daily grind, hitting the “reset” button, getting some much-needed perspective. Just like some workplaces recognize that employees get burnt out after many years on the job, I’m recognizing that many years of marriage have left me similarly depleted.
Of course, most people would describe my present circumstances as “being separated” from my husband of nearly 16 years. Most people would consider separation to be a likely precursor of divorce, and divorce to be the byproduct of a failed marriage.
Oh, how I loathe the term, “failed marriage.”
Perhaps I’m feeling particularly defensive at this point in time, but it’s a term we would rarely apply to anything else we’ve worked at, and largely “succeeded” at (whatever that means), for two decades. Over the last 16 years of marriage, as well as the four years before our wedding, my husband and I have co-parented my stepson and our two children, scraped by on my income to put my husband through college and then a doctorate program, pursued meaningful careers, purchased a home and three cars, and, as an interracial couple, united to fight…
