By Vanessa De Luca
In my 30s, I was unmarried and ready to have children. I believed I would find the same unconditional, committed relationship I had grown up seeing from my parents.
Cut to: ex-husband #1, a friend of my best friend’s husband. That couple decided we’d make a good match, and fixed us up at their New Year’s Eve party. I was undecided at first; he seemed a bit cocky, and I didn’t know if we had anything in common. But he continued to pursue me (and I liked that). We went to jazz clubs and good restaurants and slowly got to know one another. Eventually, he won me over. He was charismatic, had a sense of humor, and seemed to care about serving our community. We dated for a few years, then he finally asked me to marry him one day at the top of the Empire State Building. It seemed idyllic.
Until it wasn’t.
His behavior soon changed from charming to controlling. I’d say something in jest in front of his friends, and later get reamed out about it at home. It became a master class in gaslighting: The food was never good enough, I had to do all the chores, and my life seemed to get smaller and smaller. We had trouble getting pregnant, so we tried IVF and other fertility measures that didn’t work, which put more stress on our marriage. After we decided to adopt, I thought maybe becoming a dad would change our relationship. But in truth, it rarely does. A few years into being parents, he cheated on me with someone half his age, which hurt me to my core. Things were never right between us again. So I decided to divorce him after 14 years. He didn’t take kindly to my decision, which made our divorce a terrible ordeal, and he spent a lot of time making me pay for it, especially with our kids.
I swore then that I would not marry again – but then I met someone who seemed so different from ex-husband #1 that I began to entertain the idea once more. We married three years after my divorce, with my kids’ blessings. But I didn’t anticipate how much #1 would try to drive a wedge between me, my new husband, and the kids. It got so nasty that we spent more time in mediation meetings, and tons more money in lawyers’ fees, than we should have. It put so much stress on my new marriage that there was nothing to hang on to but resentment. It got so bad that the kids decided to move in with my ex, leaving me and my new husband with boatloads of guilt and battles over child support.
It eventually became too much for the two of us to bear. The financial burden had us in its clutches, and after one epic fight, I decided we should both go our separate ways. We divorced, amicably, after 10 years of marriage, sold our house, and went our separate ways.
I am now 60 years old and single. At first, I buried myself in binge-watching and binge-eating. I was distraught that I could not make either marriage work, and I blamed myself for not being a good picker of men. But then my closest friends began to gather around me and let me know that actually the issue I’ve had, apparently since college, is that I am always trying to save somebody. I seek out people who need a soft place to land. It felt like I’d been hit in the head with a kickball.
I realized I had work to do. I dove into books about learning to love yourself first, and ones about how to overcome trauma. I started therapy again and spent more time alone with myself because I had to find the woman I once was. It hasn’t been easy – my professional and financial life both suffered once I decided I needed time away from full-time work. I’m starting over from scratch, and it has made me wonder if I should have done things differently.
But I cannot change the past; I just have to stay present in this very moment. Having time to myself has been eye-opening, particularly in how I’ve allowed myself to reclaim the me I once was, and even given her some attitude adjustments. I’ve come to realize that I am still worthy of love and that if it ever does come around again, it will be on my terms and I will put my needs first. I know I deserve that, and much more.
The work is beginning to pay off. I’m in a much better place with my kids and still have a good connection with ex-husband #2. I have more confidence that my good days will outweigh the bad. And since I now live closer to my parents, I get to see them more and watch their love endure. Maybe, just maybe, there’s hope for me yet.