Making a decision to stay in a marriage or to leave can be difficult.

Ron and Barb have been married for 37 years.  The last 17 years haven’t been easy, but as they said, they muddled though for the sake of the kids.   They were now grown and Barb was deciding whether to stay in the marriage or to leave.  Ron suggested counseling since he didn’t want to lose her.

In one session, he described an argument from the night before. They had agreed to watch a video together. While she was setting it up, he said he wanted to just check on the Giants’ score.  He got engrossed and didn’t return for forty minutes, when he told her about a fascinating snake performance from the half time entertainment.

Barb interrupted with, “I wish you’d find me fascinating.”  She turned to me, “He can’t turn the television off even for a few minutes with me.”

“You know my job is so stressful.  I use TV as a diversion.”

“I want to be that diversion for you. But I’m not; I’ve never been, and I don’t think I ever will be.  I might as well not be here.”

How do you decide whether to stay or go?  You’ve been married for a long time; you’ve invested a good part of your past together; your future is bound together forever by the children.  Yet you are unhappy, angry, and feel deprived.

For some people, they just know they have to leave.  For many though, it’s not clear; they’re entangled by having to consider too many extenuating factors:  your children’s reactions, finances, reactions from your parents and siblings, the logistics of separation and starting over, loss of your history together, and of course, society’s subtle prejudice against divorce. Then, there is the discomfort of joining that group called Singles and starting to date.          

Barb felt awful, not wanting to end this marriage, not wanting to be stifled in her own personal growth.  To give her some distance, she decided to join a women’s retreat, where she could take time to fully understand what her choices were and why she might make whichever choice.  She knew no one, but she thought that might be even more useful.  "Unlike my friends and family, they don’t know me or Ron."

At the end of the weekend she said she felt more comfortable than she had in ages.  She turned to each woman, smiling, and said, “I’m not mad at Ron.  I’m sad, sad that we’ve grown so far apart and haven’t been able to bridge our differences. A part of me will always love him, but I now know I need to leave.  Even if I never meet anyone else, I need to lead a life that fits who I am now.  Thank you, you dear women for sharing your own stories with me and helping me think through what I really need for myself.  Your doubts and your challenges were just what I needed to be absolutely certain I’m doing the right thing.”