why we separated

i am reading a book on kindle titled "sea change". an english/american fellow sailing a small timber yacht westward across the atlantic ocean. it's evident that he separated before departing england and annoyingly the narrative steers towards his unresolved sadness and our how good she is, or was, despite the fact that he learns of her probable infidelities from reading her diaries which she left onboard. i am hoping the penny drops and he feels better about raging against her emotional hold over him. 

unlike most modern literature,  sailing yarns are most often male domains.  and as most men in love with the sea and reading books about long solo sea voyaging would be separated or divorced,  it's decent fodder. 

it also encourages one to reflect on their relationships.  fortunately, unlike out central protagonist i have moved on to develop a critical opinion of my ex partner.  actually i hgrs fitt ss were to refer to her as ever having been a partner, she was more an antagonist; one who continually opposed me. as far back as i can recall there were criticisms,  complaints and crushing comments.  

my continual preoccupations with fly fishing,  sailing,  boat building,  gardening and work and study kept my mind busy and my soul fed. i was also nourished by my birth family and their families, which were never far away. later i was engrossed by the day to day care of my own children. 

the marriage faded quickly from energetic sexual activity to co-residence. on my behalf there was respect, she was mostly reasonable and struggled bravely to identify a childhood devoid of uncondiional affection. both her parents preoccupied with extra marital affairs to smooth over gaping inadequacies in their marriage and their own personal identities. an image of children "swimming" in shallow water by walking on their finger tips, springs to mind. 

i too withdrew mentally and emotionally from the marriage.  the motivation for my emotional withdrawal  was simple; i need to retreat to safe ground to avoid the raging barbs and personal assaults that spewed forth during temper tantrums.  

my mental withdrawal is something that I've only recently acknowledged. for some years i would have said that i remained engaged and supportive throughout and that it was she who withdrew.  but that's not true.  well,  yes she did withdraw,  but i did not remain supportive.  the reason was, i now realise,, extremely important for me as a parent,  and it related to get failings in that role,  as mother.  at no time did i ever feel confident of her engagement in the role,  her active disengagement since separation is further evidence in support.  following her difficulties in becoming pregnant,  requiring medical and psychological support and a move interstate,  there was a flash of happiness in being pregnant.  but this quickly gave way to a mass of self doubt and emotional  liability which gave way to depression.  immediately following the birth her depressive illness competed with the infant's demands for love and care. as happens,  despite the difficulties with successful pregnancy and parenting,  a second pregnancy wa as secured.  her immediate response was that she didn't want to be pregnant. my steadfast refusal to entertain those thoughts lead to a deep engagement with striving to secure the children's well-being and happiness. 

trust in my partner's potential for motherliness was never secure and her efforts to disengage with the role by returning to work while still breastfeeding the second born,  with no real financial imperative,  became the death knell for our marriage.  her statement in response to news of a second pregnancy and later active disengagement created a wedge as large that i could no longer identify strength in her as a woman.  

the years passed with me in the role of primary care and her as a hollow passenger,  at worst an emotional sniper against the ready of the family. her days were numbered, she only needed courage to enact her escape. eventually disengagement became near to total; a few stolen moments after work and the children's delayed bedtime, and ad she shuffled between bathroom,  dressing room and the car on her way to work.  eventually weekends gave way to sleeping in and long periods of grooming before visiting her friend. 

if there is any regret that stands out,  it's the delay between her masquerade  and eventual departure,  the many lies told to the children of her whereabouts. this,  and my poor choice of partner,  i regret,  but in reality her value as a mother was only tested under the pressure cooker experience of being in the role. there were only dull resonances of the extended family's shortcomings in this regard that existed prior to that time.

so, no fears that my sailing memoirs will feature any  sad reminiscing over the ending my marriage.  in fact i feel blessed that it occurred and feed me up to continue parenting without scornful judgements,  and to resume life with an open heart and a free mind.