Since my separation and divorce, the word has never passed my lips with regard to myself. I just don’t believe a woman should the first one to speak it, and I have my own personal reasons for feeling that way.
A long long time ago, I did utter it and lived to regret it. I became a prisoner of the word; listening intently to expressions of regret for the next twenty-plus years. ‘The whole thing was your idea”, I was told. Other times, “Your mother might as well have held the shotgun”. Great – my own little shotgun marriage, standing in front of a judge in a courthouse on that hot August day. How lovely. How endearing. How very valued those words made me feel.
In some ways, I think being made aware of this bitter regret only served to make me stronger. I’ve come to the realization the path to real love and commitment will never be found on a one-way street. That the word compromise actually exists for non-selfish reasons. That the amazing feeling of total and complete trust creates an airtight bond that is impenetrable.
I won’t even go so far as to throw out a hint. As far as writing about it, I’m not really concerned with who reads this. I know K doesn’t read my blog – he reminded me of that little factoid just last week. Besides, as dear old Dr. Suess once said…
Those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind.