Separated but dating
But separated.”I have said these words out loud on about a half-dozen dates in the last few months and, on other occasions, I haven’t said them at all—opting instead to say them internally over casual drinks with a potential love interest.
I like to think that if I’ve said them in my head with the of injecting them into the conversation, it gets me off the hook somehow.
But still being married to him is a whole other level of embarrassment. When you tell people—dates or otherwise—you’re separated, they ask the following questions, in this order: “How long have you been separated?
I never thought I’d get married—I didn't even believe in marriage—so I really never thought I’d find myself married but separated, especially at 35.
That way, should the topic come up later, I can actually say, “Oh, I told you, didn’t I? I struggle enough with the fact that my marriage came to an end after just a year and a half, that my husband cheated on me, and left me for a girl 28 years his junior, just two years older than his daughter from a previous marriage.
I guess you just didn’t hear me.”Being married, but separated, is no picnic. All of that is embarrassing, no matter how you slice it or how many times friends and family tell me that he’s the one who should be embarrassed.
I don’t think of my marriage as a failure, as some might think of their own, but I do think of myself as having been blind, and I only have myself to blame.
I guess it’s from there that the embarrassment stems: I should have better.
I informed him that I wasn’t happy with the way things were going between us and suggested I give him some space which he agreed to.