Photography by Brian Velenchenko
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The Big Regret
By Keith Bellows, July & August 2004
One man’s insights into his own divorce
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We had put off the inevitable far too long. After 14 years and the forced
march of therapy, it was time to call off the marriage. I knew it. She knew it.
And most of all, our young son, who had tried so hard to mediate our misery,
knew it.
When we first met, she was a smart, stunning triathlete, the design director
of a major publishing company in Tennessee, who had, like me, already been
through divorce. I was the ambitious editor eager to jump on planes, jump
through hoops, jump as high as I needed to make my mark.
One day, during a break in a meeting, she approached me.
"What are you doing this weekend?" she asked.
"Going to the beach," I said.
"Can I come?"
I was stunned. I didn't really think of her as mating material. But I
was also intrigued.
"Sure," I answered.
Soon we were dating. I should have realized that we were dead wrong for each
other. I loved to travel. She preferred nesting. I thrived on meeting and
greeting. She favored a few close friends. I'm impulsive. She's
analytical. I'm flexible. She's rigid. I loved change. She loved the
predictable. She was a martinet in the kitchen. My dishwashing skills were a
disaster.
Matrimonially, we were the perfect storm.
By the time we split, she had become hermetic. She was clearly sheltering
herself from our withering marriage. Still, she continued to plead with me to
work through our problems. But I felt we had done enough work; it all seemed so
fruitless. Increasingly, I retreated to a small mountain place I had bought
when we had separated previously. I wallowed in the aloneness, unwilling to
reopen a chapter I knew was closing.
'I should have realized we were wrong for each other.
Matrimonially we were the perfect storm.'
Then, as if things couldn't get any worse, I made them worse. I was on a
business trip in San Francisco, where I was working on an Internet start-up,
when she called. She asked me the question I didn't want to answer. No
point in going into all the details, but it involved another woman. I told the
truth. Within seconds the cradle came down and with it the marriage.
Why had we stayed together? Simple. We had a son, and deep down we harbored
our parents' belief that you work at marriage no matter what.
Finally, I moved out and eventually moved away, taking a job in Washington,
D.C. We made our parting official in a 12-hour marathon of mediation. She took
my 401(k), a healthy chunk of my savings, fat monthly child support
payments—and custody of our son, then 11.
Essentially, I had bought my way out of our big mistake.
I got out alive, but I cycled through a whirlpool of emotions. First came
fear—marriage can become a refuge no matter how miserable it is, and the
idea of plunging back into the dating world filled me with dread. Then came
cold anger over the wreckage and the damage done. Finally: exhilaration. I
could really start over, get on with my life.
And I did just that.
Are there any regrets? Plenty. I regret having hurt my former wife, with
whom I negotiate the minutiae of my son's life by virtue of the most
fragile of détentes. But most of all, I lament turning his life upside
down. Making him commute endlessly to Washington. Not seeing, up close and
every day, his passage into manhood—he's 17 now. Enduring sullen
teenage silences and moody storms, knowing they're partly fueled by his
resentment that I left his mother and, by extension, him.
Today, we have a shuttle relationship that allows us time, along with
frequent phone calls, to connect. It's not perfect, but I'm struck by
how thoughtful he has become. He seems to understand that things have worked
out for the best. I'm remarried—happily—to a woman who also
thinks that I'm terrible with the dishes. But it doesn't seem to
matter, because we laugh about our shortcomings. And I draw daily reassurance
from two facts as I move on with my new life: that I'm a much better
husband than I was the last time around and that I won't watch our baby,
due in three months, grow up from afar.
Keith Bellows is the editor-in-chief of National Geographic
Traveler.
Divorce After 50
The related article and survey results about midlife divorce from AARP The Magazine reveal that more long-term marriages are coming to an end these days—but the reasons behind the divorces might surprise you. In this special message board, share your experiences and insights about marriage, divorce, and moving on with fellow readers.
Your comments will appear in this article's message board.
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