At times I feel like I’ve been angry since the doctor smacked my backside when I came out of the womb. I don’t want to be an angry person—but here we are.
For the past two years and change, anger has been my constant companion. Some of it comes from misinformation I was fed by him. A good many of the people we knew—maligned by him regularly—had never, as far as I could tell, done anything to deserve it. He’d smile to their face, and as soon as they were gone, out came the foul commentary. Just because he chose to act like an asshole, I guess.
Taking Inventory
The truth hit me as I started taking inventory of myself: my mood for the better part of the last two years has been angry. Not at the people around me now, but at what I endured in the 27 years before.
Not every moment was bad, but even in the beginning, I could see his habits forming. And once time passes, you can’t avoid replaying those early warning signs.
Yes, I’m well aware he’s been gone for more than two years. But I was with him for 27. There’s a lot to unpack in a relationship that long.
I tried to be careful not to let my feelings overshadow how others grieved him. His family, my family—everyone lost something, even if what we lost wasn’t the same person.
Where Things Went Wrong
I don’t know exactly where things went wrong. Maybe they always were. But I suspect the pandemic was the tipping point. It warped our interactions with other people and tested relationships in brutal ways—especially for those of us who had to keep going into work, risking exposure, while others stayed safely at home.
That was the moment I knew I needed to end the marriage.
The end of something isn’t always a failure. In fact, sometimes it’s the only way growth can happen. But I carried outdated ideas with me for too long—like “stick it out, it’ll get better.” That kind of philosophy let the relationship turn toxic long past its expiration date.
Outdated Measures of Success
Society still clings to the idea of “forever marriage.” Lovely in concept, sure. And for some, it works. But for many, staying together “for the sake of staying together” is nothing but misery wrapped in tradition.
The real measure of success in a relationship is knowing when it can no longer grow, and having the strength to leave.
Same-Sex Marriage & The Pressure to Succeed
Here’s where it gets complicated. When same-sex marriage became legal, there was a cultural weight placed on couples like mine: prove that it works. Prove the religious critics wrong. Prove that we can have marriages just as strong, just as lasting, as anyone else.
That pressure was real. Friends even admitted later that they felt guilty for pushing the idea of success over the well-being of the actual people in the relationship.
But success isn’t about proving society wrong—it’s about whether the relationship itself thrives. Sometimes that means staying. Sometimes it means walking away.
Failure, Redefined
Maybe I’ve carried anger because I convinced myself I failed. But is it failure to recognize the problem and take action? Or is it failure to cling to something just because society tells you that you should?
I don’t think leaving was failure. I think staying, when growth had already died, would have been the true failure.
Final Thought
No matter what else—your dog and your mom are worth every effort you make. Give them a little extra love today