I didn't hate my husband when I filed for divorce. In fact, I still loved him. What an awful spot to be in. We had not been together in any meaningful way for years, but I managed to stay in love with how we were in the beginning of our relationship. I was unable to update my internal photo to how things were in the present.
In the beginning, we were like teenagers in love, giggly and happy, sending cards back and forth, more than willing to bend over backwards for each other. Unfailingly optimistic, I still thought we could get back there.
When it comes to divorce, I guess every couple has a last straw. Sometimes, two or three last straws. Here's one of mine: My husband was away in Tokyo on business when a letter came to our home from the IRS. His name was always on the envelope, and I usually left that stuff to him (I've learned better since then). But, since he was away, I opened it. The letter said we owed $30,000 in Federal back taxes and hadn't paid our taxes in two years. I thought this must be a mistake. I quickly called the IRS and found out it was true. Swearing to them that I knew nothing about it, they said that I qualified for "The Ignorant Spouse Act." I told them to just sign me up for "The Stupid Spouse Act" and call it a day.
Then I started snooping for evidence. My husband had left his brief case home and, for the first time, I opened it. There was the envelope with our taxes, stamped and ready to go, and yet it had been sitting there like that for a full year. I quickly called New York State and found out the same thing was true with them. We were more than a year overdue.
How did this happen? The mechanics are easy to explain. I always filed my taxes on time before we got married and after we got married, it became a big fight between us because he was never ready to file on time. He always needed extensions. So, I wrote a check for my portion of the taxes to him and that way he could just submit them when he was ready. He, a master procrastinator, never got ready. I, a terrible account balancer, never noticed the money had not been withdrawn from my account.
I felt betrayed and furious. In the past, whatever conflicts we had just affected my mood. Now our differences were affecting the safety of my home and my practice, since my office was in my home. The letter had said they were putting a lien on our condo.
Hours later, I called back the IRS to ask them what they were going to do. This is what they told me: We will go after him, but if he doesn't pay, you will be responsible, and we will come after you.
I decided to set up the slow program of paying them off rather than take the chance of accruing even more debt. I also decided to sign up for the slow program of getting a divorce. How could I be in love with him after he put us in this kind of jeopardy? But, I waffled back and forth between love and hate and it was very hard to leave him.
My husband didn't want a divorce and he said I was breaking up our family -er...we had two dogs. Finally, I made a decision. I would try one last "save the marriage" vacation. We had always done very well on our vacations, and we loved to do the same kinds of things. I thought that one great vacation might rekindle the spark or, at least put us back on the right track.
I booked a honeymoon suite in Costa Rica. We had both always wanted to see a rain forest. My husband said he was very busy but he would make the time to go with me. As the date of departure got closer and closer, he got angrier and angrier. He saw my plan for a vacation as an unreasonable demand with no flexibility. And, that might be true. I said the only way I would consider staying married was to see how we'd do on this trip.
When the day of the flight came, I boarded the airplane alone, my husband promising to follow a few days later. When a few days later came, I was still alone. I spent the entire "save the marriage" vacation by myself. When I returned from the vacation, I called a lawyer and set up an appointment. After years of going back and forth, back and forth, and never having the nerve to move forward, I was out.
Even today, this story hurts, but I know we're both better off. He is living with a girlfriend and my hope is that they are very happy. I am celebrating the publication of my new book "Love Shrinks: a memoir of a marriage counselor's divorce." We are both in much better places.