While we were married, I let him know he had a drinking problem. Peacefully. It never devolved into a yelling argument. I would wait until he was sober, and let him know...this is a problem, and you need to fix it. This is still a problem for me, and only you can fix it. This is still a problem, and you need to know that I am only sticking around in order to run interference with our kids. I am waiting for them to be old enough, or for you to do something stupid so that I can stand in front of a judge and ask that you not get unsupervised custody. Yes, he would drink and drive.
At one point, when we were remodeling our kitchen, he asked what style of cabinetry I wanted. I straight up said, "Look, your drinking is still a problem, so don't do the kitchen based on my taste, we might be selling this house in a few years once the kids are old enough, so let's do it in a way that will give us the most return on our investment." This was while he was stone sober, standing face to face with me, without any anger, sarcasm, or snideness.
I gave my husband the gift of options.
When the marriage counselor forced me to utter an ultimatum, I finally relented against my better judgement. Years later, when I look back at that moment, I'm still frustrated with the counselor for forcing me to give an ultimatum, but part of me also believes that he knew what that answer would be, and he needed us both to hear it, maybe he knew I needed to be fully shattered so that I could be more confident in my resolve.
I gave my husband the gift of time.
Once I finally kicked him out, and he began sobriety through AA, I told him we did not need to make any big decisions. I told him he should not make any big decisions so early in his sobriety. I preferred a legal separation over a divorce. It would protect us in either direction, and could easily be turned into a legal divorce at any time in the future. I let him rent a room in my home, so that he could re-establish a relationship with our daughters, as he had been drunk half their lives. The caveat was that he had to maintain sobriety. It often felt that he was only living under my roof so that he could keep tabs on me, rather than investing that time in our daughters. Just a couple of months into his sobriety, he declared we had to get a divorce, because he could not find women who would date him if he was only separated. I remember telling him at that moment, "I'm handing you a gift, and you are rejecting it so you can date women?!?"
I gave my husband the gift of finality.
There was some time a few weeks after he became sober where I could feel that he wasn't taking me or our split seriously. I could tell he was hanging his hopes on the longstanding cycle of "if I just behave for a while, she'll calm down and things will go back to normal" routine. By then, I had started dating my boyfriend, and even though that started off as a two-friends-going-through-similar-problems thing, it quickly became apparent that he and I were two emotionally-starved beings finally being fed, and I knew there was no going back. I told my boyfriend, I can tell he's not taking me seriously, I can tell we are going to have to have an actual showdown. That same weekend, it happened. This was the story as I relayed it shortly after it happened (July 11, 2015):
Well, it happened. [...He...] and I had the big emotional showdown that needed to happen to propel our broken marriage to the next step. I guess I didn't realize how much denial he was in, even after I was so freakin' clear this morning at breakfast. When I returned from Santa Barbara, I called him to thank him for mowing the lawn, and I suggested he could stay at the house Saturday night with the girls, since I would be gone. He asked where I was going to be, and I reminded him that I was going to a concert with my friend. That's when it finally sunk in. Because I could tell it was sinking in, I took that opportunity to reiterate that his drinking was the cause of the demise of our marriage, not a third person...I didn't get involved with this person until the marriage was broken, I needed him to accept that it was his drinking, and he agreed, and said he understood.
So I get home from theater at about 9:30pm, and I'm sitting in the driveway waiting for a song to end, when he pulls up with [...our son...]. I get out of my car and start unloading groceries, and he finally gets out of the car. I ask him why he's there, and he says he needs to put something away for safekeeping. I ask him what exactly needs to be put away at this moment, and he declares, his wedding ring! WTF?!? So I chuckle, and say, "Oh, are we going to talk about this like adults, or are we just going to be dramatic?" He insists he's not being dramatic, but I point out there is absolutely no logical reason why he has to remove his wedding band at this moment, it's a ridiculous gesture. I then proceed to tell him I don't understand why he is making me out to be the bad guy, he's the one who ruined everything, that I could've been happy with him forever, and that I've been more fair than anybody could be expected to be, I gave him so much notice, so much information, so many chances to make the change. Then, I started to cry and went into the house, and into the garage because the girls were in the living room. He followed me, and I said, "look, if you don't want to keep our family together in an amicable way, that's fine. I'm just trying to give you the opportunity to rebuild a relationship with your kids, especially your daughters, because they need you right now...but you need to accept that you and I are done. If you had taken me seriously last year, maybe we could've pieced this thing back together. But it is unfair for you to think I would be willing to risk any more time, effort, or heartache in the hopes that you are really going to fix it this time. I finally have someone in my life who adores me, and I am here struggling with whether or not I deserve this happiness, and this person has to work so hard to convince me that I do. I am not willing to give that up." He says "But I still love you.", and I say "You've basically been abusing me for the past several years, and you can't even explain why, how can you call that love? Any love I feel for you is based on a thirty year history, but there is no more admiration or respect because you've been such a dick and an asshole for the past few years. That's not love. You've been treating me like I am a prisoner because I made vows to you." He says, "You're right. I emotionally abandoned you." and I add, "and if I hadn't finally put my foot down, you would still be doing it.", and he agreed. We stood in silence for several minutes. Most of this conversation occurred without any eye contact, which was odd but necessary. Then he started crying, and saying "I ruined it" and "I thought you would give me another chance.." and I did nothing to comfort him, my heart was like a stone, because I knew this had to happen, it was the right thing for him to realize. Saying "it'll be okay" would've been a huge step backward. I told him my greatest fear right now is that I won't have the strength to see this through, and I am determined not to let that happen. I will never go back to that place. But how we work it out with our family and the future would be up to him. I was willing to maintain a marriage of friendship for the sake of our family, but if he can't do that, then we can completely cut ties and just get on with our separate lives. I suggested he talk to his therapist about it. And that's where it ended. He said goodbye, and left.
I think this was big progress for us, because we obviously need to keep chipping away at the denial. And he needs the emotional upheaval to test his sobriety. I knew this had to happen, and I'm glad I pushed the issue forward so it would happen.
I gave my husband the gift of financial integrity.
I was prepared to walk away completely. That's how it feels when you finally come to the decision that leaving is your only option. You wrestle with a decision like this for a very long time. I understand that now. People on the outside can't really understand it. They think you've just "moved on" so quickly, they don't realize it has likely taken years to get to this point, that divesting is a process, not a singular act. So, I told him I didn't even want a house (we had two). He insisted I take a house. Other than that, he cannot complain one iota about our divorce affecting him financially. I did not touch his sizable retirement savings. That was the way it was always going to be. So, when he told me that the first thing his dad said to him when he told him we were splitting was "She is going to take you to the cleaners!", I have to admit my pride did rear it's ugly head for a moment. I was hurt, I was offended, but then I convinced myself to just let it go. Whatever! There are times when I kick myself for not taking what was legally available for me to share, such as when I try to plan my own retirement, or when [...He...] does something financially petty*. But overall, I think I made the right choice for myself, and I'll be all right in the long run. In other words, WORTH IT!
*I will share examples in the future
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