While I can’t claim to have been an exceptional wife during my marriage, I definitely believe I was a good one. I supported my husband through our vows—“to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, until parted by death”, or in my case, divorce. These sacred vows were made before our families and friends and God, which is why I struggle to understand divorce. I was fully dedicated to our union and the promises we made to each other. I believed deeply in our bond and loved him unconditionally, even during the times when we hurt one another.
Over the years, I experienced growing neglect and abandonment by my then husband. To protect myself and my mental well-being, I started to pull away. I was raising our two young daughters, and since he wasn’t actively participating as a parent, that responsibility fell to me. I cherished being a mother and found joy in it, which made it difficult for me to understand his detachment from his role as a dad and husband. We had two amazing kids! This disconnect eventually turned into anger on my part. He would go days without engaging with us, and although I initially tried to reach out, I began to withdraw more and more. At times, I lost my composure and expressed my frustrations, leading to feelings of self-loathing and resentment. Looking back on that period, I feel a deep sense of sadness. I know that I could have worked to become a better wife and person, yet I chose to embrace anger instead. If only I could go back and make different choices—but, as they say, hindsight is 20/20.
During those challenging years, I often felt alone in my struggle. Though I was aware of the realities of abuse, I hadn’t recognized neglect as a form of it. Unlike the neglect I experienced by my dad in my childhood, which I could navigate with my mother’s support, I found myself isolated in my marriage. This loneliness made it difficult to find my way.
I recently started watching “The Good Wife” series on Paramount. When the series initially emerged I was hesitant to watch it due to its title—especially since I was dealing with neglect in my own marriage at the time. I now understand that I was indeed a good wife. I stayed by my husband’s side, supported him, and encouraged him to be a better person, even when he resisted. During quiet moments, I sometimes would lose my way, unable to understand how our relationship had become so strained. We had overcome hardships before and emerged stronger—why was this time so different?
There’s a powerful scene in Season 7, Episode 13 of “The Good Wife” where Alicia expresses her frustration, and I felt a profound connection to her words. You can watch the scene here. In the series, Alicia was indeed a good wife, enduring significant challenges in her very public marriage. When a friend approaches her, she reflects: “I was in love. He died. I found out he left me a message that he loved me, but I didn’t receive it. Now, I’m sick to death of everything: this apartment, this laundry, the fact that things get dirty, the law—just standing here. Sometimes, I swear I just want to pull the covers over my head and never do anything again. I’m drinking like I never have before, and all I want to do is have another drink. Then everything just gets swallowed up by more disgust. I’m not built to be an unhappy person. I like laughing. I laugh at videos on YouTube, and then I sit here, alone, in this apartment, wondering what happened to my life. Was it all about having two kids who I don’t even know if I like anymore, sending them off to be someone important? Seriously, was that the point? I just hurt! I want it over! I just want it to end! I was loved. And it’s over. So why am I doing this?”
Hearing Alicia’s words resonated with me on a deep level. Over the years, when I was all alone, I too had moments like this. Just grieving to the point of unresolved sobbing. I too was in love, but my husband hadn’t passed away; he had simply chosen a different direction in life, one that didn’t include me. I recognize that his struggles with alcohol likely intensified during that period. He became more withdrawn and at times, angry—so different from the person I fell in love with. I longed for the man I married and the father of my children to return, but that version of him never came back. Instead, he moved on to embrace his addiction and other women. This has been incredibly painful for me.
After years of therapy and self reflection I have forgiven myself. I have apologized to my ex-husband for my behavior. I have expressed to him that I still love him and nothing would make me happier than to reconcile our marriage. He is once again, sober, and attends church regularly. He resisted. He moved on. And now he is “fake” marrying someone else. I have heard through the grapevine that he and she won’t be legally married but yet they still want their vows to be recognized by God in front of their family and friends. And I once again find myself wondering why. Why doesn’t he think that the vows he made to me weren’t recognized by God and shouldn’t be honored? Does God recognize divorce? Does God honor vows made to the other woman? I still have so many questions about divorce and moving on. And I will continue to travel on this path of healing I am on.
Until I gain more clarity in my recovery I will trust God to take the pain from me. He is my refuge. He shelters me in this storm. He loves me and wants only good to come to me. And I believe that. I am not suffering. I am healing. I have come a long way in this journey of recovery. But most of all I wanted to share with you all that even on this path of recovery, during times of great healing, things still happen to us to draw us back into the darkness. I have decided to not go back. To not be bitter. But to give it to God and continue onward. Forward in my recovery journey.
“This is how you forgive someone who broke your heart:
You forgive them by giving yourself time to heal. It’s not something that happens all at once, and it doesn’t happen overnight. It’s a gradual process. Some days you take two steps forward and four steps back. It might not always make sense, but every day you grow a little stronger, a little more resilient—even if it doesn’t feel like it.
You forgive them by focusing on yourself. Stop pouring your energy into negativity. Disconnect. Unfollow. Take care of yourself. Reread your favorite books, spend time with your closest friends, and remind yourself of the joy and positivity that still exist around you. Allow your heart the space to rest and remember how to smile again.
You forgive them by stepping away from the situation. The longer you dwell in the pain, the more it takes root. It’s hard, but you have to let it go. Acknowledge your emotions and honor your feelings, but don’t keep replaying the past. Picture the pain like a balloon—let it float away. Say goodbye. It no longer has the power to hurt you.
You forgive them by accepting what happened. This doesn’t mean the pain disappears. It doesn’t mean you’re excusing their actions or letting them off the hook. They are still accountable for what they did. But it means recognizing that what’s done cannot be undone. There’s no rewind button—you can only move forward.
You forgive them by reclaiming your life. Because your life is so much bigger than the person who broke your heart.”
