On the 4th, the kids and I spent the entire day with Jim. And it didn’t feel weird at all. I will always love Jim because he is my kids dad and I will always choose to love him, but I don’t want him anymore. Part of me wishes I did, that there was some amount of fight left in me for this marriage, but I am just so done. It is just so over.

And for me, I’m really fine about all of this. We can still raise our kids together, we can still be friends and have family dinner on Sundays, we can still hang out on a raft in the river with a bunch of our friends and it not be awkward. I’m thankful for that. I’m thankful that I can still keep a little piece of Jim – that I haven’t lost him entirely.

I’m thankful that I can move on too. That I’m not living in limbo anymore, that I have the chance to have a real marriage again someday, that things can finally be different after they were the same for SO long. I’m thankful that I’m healthy and SO happy, happier than I’ve been in so long – which I know sounds strange considering the place I’m at. But I am.

I hope that it stays this way. Right now it’s pretty good. I hope that bringing new people into our lives doesn’t change things for the worse but the better. And I hope that we can always be able to watch the fireworks with the kids together.

I’ve been writing this post in my head for the last two and a half years. It’s been two and a half years since Jim said he didn’t want to be with me anymore. Today he moved out and by the time this post goes live, we will have told the children that he is leaving. I dread that moment more than anything I’ve ever done.

I’ve fought so hard for this marriage, probably harder than I should have. I’ve compromised myself in ways and have been so desperate that I’m ashamed of the disrespect I’ve shown myself. I’ve been fighting for an amazing man, not seeing that I lost that man a long time ago. The man who moved out today was nothing like the one I married 11 years ago.

To say that the last 2.5 years have been difficult would, perhaps, be the biggest understatement I have ever made. The last 2.5 years have been absolutely tortuous. And I wouldn’t take a minute of it back. I’ve come such a long way while I waited in limbo. I’ve learned and accepted so much about myself and I’ve seen how God has been preparing me for this very moment. I’ve seen how, even in this, he has a plan for me and it’s good and not bad and there will be a future. I’ve been sifting through the layers of loss for so long that I feel as though I’m coming to the end… to acceptance. I’m eager, almost excited, to move forward. I don’t know what the future holds, but that’s terribly thrilling to me. I don’t really believe that life gives us do-overs, but I almost feel as though I have one. A second chance anyway.

I feel sad, but loved and very hopeful. I know we’re going to be ok. I’m worried about managing two little broken hearts, but I’m counting on grace to hold onto us – my little family that went from 4 to 3 today.

(I’m writing this not for pity or sympathy, but because, as often as I’m ashamed to admit I’ve participated in it, I detest gossip. I feel it’s better coming from the “horse’s mouth” than from someone who heard from someone else who heard from someone else. And I’m also writing this because I feel as though I’ve been living with this secret for so long. I’ve hated how protecting my family’s privacy has caused me to be unauthentic at times. Without authenticity, how can we truly have friendships? I’m ready to live my life out loud and in the light.)