During our marriage, I always felt that my love for you grew every day. It was a feeling I believed we were supposed to feel. But was it really love, or was it what we had become used to? Separating is a learning process, a learning process filled with experiences, we should have been aware of during our marriage. It could have prevented those painful days we are going through. Today, love means something different to me.

At one point, shortly after I filed for divorce, I discussed with a friend a possible friendship with another woman I had met, and the possibility of more. He asked me if I wasn’t afraid that I would have an experience that would be similar to the one with you and if I knew how she was different to you. It was an obvious question, but a question I was not prepared for.

The question came because I had met this new woman in a similar way I had met you and the conversation with that woman evolved similarly fast as the conversation between you and me 13 years ago.

The pain of the divorce gave me the gift of meeting many different people and gave me an opportunity to talk to people that had personalities with an enormous range. From suicidal to violent to shy and careful to amazingly heart driven. And I found people that I felt compatible with, compatible without compromises. People who were willing to give themselves up for another. People who have similar values as I do. People who make similar decisions as I do. People who deeply care for the things I care.

So, was I able to find what I was looking for?
I was afraid that my fairy tale of a perfect marriage had burst like a fragile soap bubble. My feelings for happiness were tied to the children and the question how long I would have to be alone in a country I was not born [...]

There are two things about your family I was never able to understand and I carefully kept distance to as a result. It was your distance to your mom and dad and the relationship to your biological parents. And then there is your other brother you lost in a car accident before we got married. I agree that we did not communicate in a great way about these topics, but it was never my intention to keep distance, I just felt uncomfortable and was hoping that you would be breaking out of your shell at some point and talk about it when you wanted to. I never rejected the conversation about either topic as far as I can remember.

There was someone I felt I could trust when I learned about your cheating. It was your dad. He had given me advice more than a year before this had happened, when I told him about what you were doing on Facebook and when he told me that he would consider it cheating.

For some reason, I had a special relationship with your dad. Never emotionally close, but a connection with a very respectful interaction. You know that it always bothered me that he needed to teach everyone about everything. That it was his word that counted. I learned that he enjoys sharing his experience and I did not mind listening for the sake of the family, but sometimes it was just too much. I just don’t need to be told how often I need to fertilize my lawn. I do not need to be told how long you have to bake a turkey or ham. And I certainly do not need to be yelled at and be lectured when he feels that wants to see our children, on my time with them.

I found that there are many positive things that have come out of this divorce. We both have met other people and I hope that you are making similar experiences as I do. I am sharing with friends some of the experiences I make as, I am sure, you do as well. And there is one particular experience, which I am infinitely grateful for, beyond learning that I can go out, open up my heart and talk to people and that I am perceived as a decent human being who can find new friendship, a type of friendship I had forgotten exists. That experience relates to the question and answer of: Did I give you the attention you wanted?

I do not understand how you can destroy me emotionally and then be allowed to take everything else I have done and created for you. At this point, I am willing to agree to the money aspect which, if you are honest to yourself, is important to you. If it wasn’t, and if I am so terrible you claim I am, you would have left a long time ago. It is the money, we both know it. Take whatever you want.

Common sense would suggest that we have an equal share in the lives of our children and what we have built. I truly sit here every day wondering what it is that prevents us from simply parting. I admit that I will always believe that what you have done is a disgrace to the concept of marriage, and I will always believe that you should be ashamed of yourself.

I told you before that my idea of ethics would suggest that you should have left a long time ago, because of your actions and because of what I have felt for you. I understand by now that this might never happen, for some reason I do not know and for some reason I likely will never understand and agree with. But, it is what it is, you are here and you won’t go without taking what you want, every piece you can get, and what others may tell you that you should take.

A couple months ago, I put everything behind me, even if I was dazzled by some of the decisions you made. I put myself on a path after our marriage. Because I felt we can easily separate. We built it, so we can take it apart, right?

It seems our story has made the rounds in the neighborhood and I always wondered whether I will be the poor fool who was cheated on or whether you will be the one who will be talked about as the one who cheated on her husband. It may be a bit of both, but it is a conservative neighborhood and I am surprised that I already can deal with the somewhat nasty remarks about you I hear from some dads who seem to know what is going on.

Over the course of the past few months, I felt desperate at times. It was tough and crushing to see what I am up against. Not just you. I had no support system whatsoever. My mother told me that she would be there for me. But essentially, I was alone. After a few weeks of desperation, I began looking for ways to climb out of that dark hole. Suddenly I noticed that I was the one who has been miserable. And I did not want to be miserable anymore. I needed to pick myself up, fight and be there for my kids.