I’ve got a problem with the phrase “my ex.” It might just be that it makes me feel like a character in a bad country song, but I think there’s more to it.
It’s the “my” part that bugs me. I prefer to reserve that descriptor for the positive things I cherish: my family, my friends, my work, my fabulous haircut. And while the man I once married is not so bad as exes go, cherish him I do not. So without conscious effort, I’ve become an expert at avoiding the possessive.
Of course my discomfort with “my ex” is silly, and probably a little juvenile. As the father of my children, he is unquestionably “mine” – bound to play a significant role in my life. And to pretend anything else would be a disservice to the kids. I understand all of this, and work hard to live by it.
Nevertheless, when it comes to casual conversation, I’ll keep the “my” for myself.
I refer to the person who used to be my husband as Mr. X. Like you said, he’s not ‘my’ anything, other than the father of my children. Perhaps, like you said, it’s juvenile, but even though I still feel mired in anger and betrayal, deleting the ‘my’ helps me move on, if only a little.
This is actually quite a common issue folks share with me, altho not so much with the word “my” as the “ex” part. At once there’s a need to reference the fact that there is a relationship there, while chosing not to fall into the trap of only seeing it as a negative; that would include denying it ever existed. Freud said that love and hate sat side-by-side, and I agree. We often use hate to plug up the hole left by loss of love – until we’ve healed to the point of the goal: Indifference.
When I left my husband, after a long, unhappy marriage, I had to learn how to answer the inevitable “I’m sorry”. I was certainly not sorry. I was so proud of myself for finally having the courage to leave a bad situation. Then I realized that the “sorry” part for other folks was that we always want couples to live happily ever after. I had come to realize that I could live with him for the rest of our lives or I could have a happy life by myself, but we would not have a happy life together.
That was five years ago and, despite the wise counsel of my therapist at the time, I have found “prince charming”. My ex-husband has also found someone he is happy with. He and I are friendly enough to be cordial when we are together with our children and grandchildren, although I am always glad that we aren’t going home together.
I don’t usually respond to blogs, but yours really got to the heart of so much that has happened to me that I wanted to say thank you.
I look forward to more entries. Keep them coming!
Thanks.