It’s been a few weeks since you told me you wanted a professional relationship with me – no doubt you think this is appropriate as we work at the same institution. But you seem to have forgotten that we have three children together and a professional relationship does not really cover their needs.
You probably think my avoiding you at work is unprofessional. But whose is the greater ethical crime? Does it really affect our kids if I do not engage with you at meetings or at service activities? Probably not. But it does affect them when you do not engage on co-parenting issues such as their birthdays, whether I decide to move on or not, and finance.
But what about us? We managed two years of separation well. The kids felt secure when we got on well and we enjoyed it on the whole. We were the Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Martin of our community. I was proud of that and so were the kids. There were bumps along the way, largely to do with incoming gossip and a lack of communication but, really, we did well.
Now we cannot stand the sight of each other. A relatively mild complaint from me was the cause of you ending our “friendship”. You said to me, in the way in which you talk to your 14-year-old students (you need to do something about that patronising manner of yours) that it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. In which case, I can only suggest that your camel is a pretty spineless creature or that you simply grasped an opportunity to cut me out of your life.
I have tried to communicate with you: first, to get back on an even keel and restore the friendship; second, to co-parent effectively. But my emails are dismissed (“stop sending me emails like this”) or ignored – even when they involve our children’s wellbeing. I have suggested mediation (“You go to counselling if you want. I won’t”). I wonder about your maturity, given the evidence that you are unable to put aside our differences and display a united front for our kids. Is your pride more important than they are?
So I am leaving, it seems.
It means leaving our youngest with you. Do not be flattered into thinking he particularly wants to live with you. We all know he would rather live with me. He just doesn’t want to leave his school and his friends. Our middle child says I shouldn’t go because you will not be able to care properly for his brother in terms of feeding him a healthy diet and watching his back at school. After all, that was always my job. I send you emails about that and you don’t reply. You don’t appear to be acting on any of it from what I am told by our son’s teachers. Can I trust you to do these things if I leave?
So take a long, hard look at yourself as a father and as an ex-husband.
You may be feeling very happy with yourself, having found a pretty young woman and no doubt she is satisfying your needs – I hope you will be happy with her. Please consider her motives and don’t make a fool of yourself.
And don’t risk our kids’ inheritance – I don’t suppose you have written a will yet. We were together for 20 years. While I was certainly not a perfect wife, I played an important role in your life and career and to be reduced to being referred to as a “professional relationship” is heartless of you. I was your lover and best friend, career counsellor and financial manager. And, most importantly, I am still the mother of your three children.
As for me, I know I will be happier if I don’t see you every day. I am already happier now that I don’t have to worry about your moods and long silences, your lack of empathy, your opinions on my underwear, my hair, my clothes, my shoes. Finally I can get back to being myself, if I can ever find that person again.
Your loving ex-wife
