I was a little girl when my dad left. It was confusing. As I got older, I was smart enough to understood one thing. If he hadn’t walked out of their marriage, my mother never would have.
She would never have given up on him.
Her heart was too big and her love was too strong.
She would always see him through rose-colored glasses.
He would eternally be the handsome guy she fell in love with. The charismatic dance partner of Kathryn Murray on The Arthur Murray Party, a weekly television show.
He would remain the man she met.
A happy, funny and promising guy.
I was grateful my dad left.
I was glad he did what my mother could not do. I know it may sound odd. It’s the truth. A 5 year old little girl may have cried at the daily absence of her father. But a young adult knew better.
Recently, I was chatting with a friend who’s divorced.
“My marriage wasn’t healthy,” I say. “Even my children begged me to leave their father.”
“That’s weird that a child would say that,” says my friend. “My kids didn’t do that.”
“I thought you said one of them did,” I say.
“Oh,” she says. “My child was older by then.”
“My kids saw us set a better example for years,” I say. “Kids are smart. They understand when a situation turns unhealthy. They have the instincts to want to run from it, and be protected from it. I think it can be different if it’s all they have known.”
“What do you mean?” she says.
“I’m the youngest,” I say. “I only knew my father’s bad behavior. As I got a little older, they temporarily reconciled a few times. I didn’t vocalize anything because this was normal for me. My kids saw a better relationship turn incredibly unhealthy. I think this may have made them more outspoken. I was in high school before I told my mom they shouldn’t ever reconcile again.”
This conversation reminded me of what I already knew.
I am my mother’s daughter.
I had my own pair of rose-colored glasses.
“Colleen,” my marriage counselor infamously said. “Your husband keeps showing you who he was but you don’t want to believe him.”
My dad was an alcoholic.
My mother understood the reality of this illness. She knew he had shown no ability to abandon drinking. Her head knew he wouldn’t change but her heart rejected it.
Her rose-colored glasses prevented her from giving up on him.
She believed in him.
She believed in a forever love.
Her rose-colored glasses never turned black.
But they should have. The man she originally fell in love with had left the building. He wasn’t that young promising guy anymore. He was a man with a terrible illness that he could not overcome.
It didn’t matter.
Her rose-colored glasses refused to turn black.
But mine did.
Maybe it’s because I had the benefit of marriage counseling. It wasn’t as common in the years my mother struggled with marital insecurity.
A professional calling me out, may have gotten my attention.
Or maybe it was the little girl in me.
The child of divorce.
The one who was smart enough to know my mother never would have left a man. Despite his repeated ability, to hurt himself, and our family with his behavior. She refused to see him for who he was, or the futile reality of loving a man like that.
I couldn’t keep wearing my rose-colored glasses.
They had turned black.
I couldn’t keep seeing the best in someone who was destroying everyone.
—
This post was previously published on medium.com.
***
From The Good Men Project on Medium
 |
 |
 |
 |
***
Join The Good Men Project as a Premium Member today.
All Premium Members get to view The Good Men Project with NO ADS.
A $50 annual membership gives you an all access pass. You can be a part of every call, group, class and community.
A $25 annual membership gives you access to one class, one Social Interest group and our online communities.
A $12 annual membership gives you access to our Friday calls with the publisher, our online community.
Register New Account
Need more info? A complete list of benefits is here.
—–
Photo credit: behrouz sasani on Unsplash
