...love remembers

X Marks The Spot

From time to time I come across articles that I really enjoyed, made a point, and were well written. I came across an article written by Jennifer Johnson from the D.C. area that fits this criteria. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.


At this point in my life I have had, in no particular order, a history of bad haircuts, an ex-fiance, a former husband, an aunt who ignores me and a collection of friends who now aren't. There are hearts that I've broken and more than a few men (and women) who have broken mine.

Nothing in my life prepared me for the complete destruction of my marriage. The totality of the betrayal, the nights when sleep was impossible and the bone crushing depression I fed with more food in a day than what children in third world countries see in a year, these things made the simple act of waking up in the morning seem medal worthy.

In a new relationship we remain each of us someone else's ex. To what extent do we pack our ex issues in our carry-on bags before we board the next flight of love? Because at $25 per checked bag, most of us are jamming our emotional baggage into the overhead compartment where sits wedged between the Louis Vuitton tagged Emotionally Needy with Daddy Issues and the Tumi bag marked Abandonment with Addictive Tendencies.

With the passage of time and my decision in December to forgive my former husband, I made room for good things to come into my life. So all-consuming was my contempt that hating him became a full-time job. Somewhere on the road to relationship maturity, one which I'm still traveling, I realized that in vilifying him, I was negating the four years that we had spent together. I didn't like what that said about me.

He wasn't just my ex-husband, he was the man that I loved enough to marry. The four years we shared were happy ones, celebrating holidays and birthdays, quiet dinners and times cheering for our sports teams, vacations we took and the the enmeshing of our lives. I am blessed by those years together and while I'm ultimately happy that we' are not longer married I realize that being his ex-wife is if not an honor, a certain distinction for which I'm no longer angry. It quite simply means this: I loved him.

Treat your exes with the same kindness you afforded them when your world orbited around theirs. I wish someone had said that to me when I wanted to pull my former husbands teeth out one by one with needle- nose pliers.

Jennifer Johnson

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