splitting up together

The Tricky Logistics & Boundaries Of My Not-So-Secret Double Life

The Tricky Logistics & Boundaries Of My Not-So-Secret Double Life

I feel like I’m living a double life — but without the glamour of being a secret agent or a superhero.

When my husband of 25 years and I decided to “split up together,” we knew it wouldn’t be neat and tidy. Having committed to putting our children first — no matter what — we knew we were going to be taking on the brunt of the tricky logistics involved in letting the kids stay in our family home while we took turns coming and going.

But I definitely didn’t know I would feel like I was living a double life.

Finding The Magic In The Messiness Of Splitting Up Together

Finding The Magic In The Messiness Of Splitting Up Together

Splitting up together. Bird nesting. Giving the kids custody of our family home.

However you choose to phrase it, this is what we decided to do as a family when my husband of 25 years and I split up.

I loved the premise of nesting as soon as I heard about it.

Let’s Talk About The Stupid, Jerkface Language Of Divorce

Let’s Talk About The Stupid, Jerkface Language Of Divorce

I’m struggling with the words that go along with divorce.

In fact, I don’t think I’ve even said the word divorce out loud. I’ve only written it. I just doesn’t feel right to me – it doesn’t feel like it describes us or our family’s situation.

We didn’t even want to use it when we told our kids, and I didn’t use it when I told my side of the family. I think I mostly say that we are splitting up. But why? Why does it bother me so much?

For the most part, I think it’s because…

To My Husband, At The End Of Our 25-Year Marriage

To My Husband, At The End Of Our 25-Year Marriage

I took my wedding ring off today.

Not to send a message to you — or to anyone else for that matter. I did it as an act of self-love. As another punctuation mark. Punctuating the completion of our marriage.

And it does feel complete.

It feels sort of odd that I didn’t take the ring off to mark an ending — as much as I did it to mark a new beginning. For me. For you. For our family.