My marriage wasn’t perfect. It never was. I got married when I was only 22 years old. I was eager to start the life I had dreamed of. I wanted a husband, kids, a house, and a dog. I was getting everything I wanted, and I was ecstatic. Twenty-two was so young. We were still learning who we were, we weren’t done growing and learning.
We had really great times, but after I had a miscarriage with our second child, I noticed some changes in us both. I wasn’t happy, but I assumed it was my depression. I thought if I could just get through that, we would be good.
My best friend told me repeatedly that I was a “single married mom.” I would quietly nod along. I knew she was right. I hated that my husband worked weekends and nights. He picked up running and was gone even more. Everything felt like it was on me and me alone. Our communication sucked. I cried easily, and he shut down. We never got anywhere.
When I got pregnant for a third time it got even worse. We both were stressed and were in the process of moving. At one point, I was so miserable I thought I should seek a separation. But I was afraid I would disappoint everyone. I didn’t think I could make it on my own, and I felt like a failure. I made myself believe it was just the hormones talking, but deep down it was always there. We continued our happy married persona, but we never went on dates, our common interests dwindled, and we grew apart.
When I started the surrogacy process there was a thought in the back of my mind that this was going to change everything, but not for the better. But this was a dream of mine, and I had to do it. Before I even got pregnant, we drifted apart more. I managed the kids and the household the best I could and powered through.
We started sleeping separately, he said it was my snoring. There was an elephant in the room neither of us was bringing up. I continued to sit in my feelings, talking to no one, and suffering alone. My family and close friends knew I was exhausted and unhappy, but if they spoke up, they knew I would ignore what was being said.
I wanted my children to have a two-parent household, I didn’t know who I was outside my marriage. I had completely lost me. I had no hobbies, I had no time to myself, and I just existed as a mom and preschool director.
In hindsight, our communication should have been way better. This has never been all my ex’s fault. I made mistakes; I could have done things differently too.
But I also realize we are not the same people we were when we got married. Our goals for our lives changed, we wanted different things, and there were some things we just weren’t willing to compromise for the other. It wasn’t healthy, and it hadn’t been for a long time.
It’s taken me a while to come to these conclusions, but I am always confident that this was the best thing to happen for me and our children. I’m happier. I’m improving myself and figuring out what I really want.
Sometimes I wish I had listened to myself and communicated my thoughts more four years ago, but I truly believe this is one of those everything happens for a reason scenarios. Now I look back and have been able to come up with what I want out of a future partner and how I can be a better partner to someone when that time comes. It’s allowed me to find myself again, deepen my faith, and find the happiness that is out there.
Originally published on the author’s blog
by Hayley Hengst 
by Caroline Poser 
