That moment I had been dreading finally happened a few weeks ago, well over a year since becoming single. I walked into church, settled into my usual seat, sang a couple of songs, and when we were prompted to greet one another a lady said, “Oh, you’re [my ex-husband’s] wife, aren’t you?”
No, no ma’am I’m not. You see, the church I still go to was the church he grew up in. We attended church there together for 6 years before he left. There are many families in the church that have known him since he was a teenager, and still associate me with him. I wanted to crawl under my chair and die. I changed my name back to my maiden name for a reason.
I wasn’t expecting to hurt as bad as it did either. Don’t get me wrong, today I’m 100% happy with my decision to go through with divorcing him. Like I said, there’s a reason why I changed my name back, and through wonderful counseling and lots of prayerful thought I’ve come to understand exactly the type of hell I was truly living in, but didn’t want to recognize at the time of our separation. I didn’t believe in divorce, and even more so believed in the vows I took on our wedding day. I think the reason it hurt was because what I still feel is just disappointment. I feel disappointed in his actions and decisions, even still to date as I battle for what’s best for my children emotionally. I’m disappointed that it has to be this way even though I’m happy and have moved on with my life. I’m disappointed for my girls, to have to grow up with divorced parents, because I know what that’s like still at 30 years old when it comes to planning trips, holidays and special events. It’s a total pain in the ass!
So ya, just like any mature adult….I’ve been avoiding church for weeks now. I know, I know, “But Amanda you’re so strong and you’ve come through a lot and you can go back to church confidently! So what if they thought you were still married!” I know. I’ve been listening to sermons online and trying to muster my courage to go back. I’ve gone a few times and sat there, praying the whole time that no one would talk to me, but I’m working on returning with my head held high. I will soon, I promise.