Brief history-
Met at 15 and 16, married at 24, two children together.
Everything was fine until we had kids, they became solely my responsibility. Every bedtime, birthday present, item of clothing, day off with them when they were sick.
Relationship wise, we were like lodgers. Sex a few times a year, over quickly, I never climaxed.
He forced himself on me when I was 5 1/2 months post partum and that hugely changed my view on him and how he saw me in the relationship. I cheated on him, he knows. Not proud of it, but just adding.
Anyway- I asked for a Divorce in October 2022. Wasted a year in mediating- he'd tak ages to advise on his availability, would arrive to sessions with no prep and not do any of the actions. He admitted he was dragging his heels so I spoke to a solicitor and went the legal route.
I've spent the duration sleeping in the spare room. I'm now on a single mattress on a sofa bed but spent six months on an inflatable air bed hoping things would move quicker than they have.
Nearly two years on and we have finally reached a settlement- it's what I asked for 2 years ago and has cost us both time and money to get to this point.
Thing is, I thought I'd be chuffed, and partly I am. I can move out. I will have a house and will no longer be living in a 9' x 10' space like a university student. I'll have a tidy home and won't have to carry his lazy arse.
I feel sad the marriage has come to this. I think we always would have reached this point- he is fundamentally not the sort of person who will deliver what I want in a relationship. He needs constant project management, and I am sick of making EVERY decision.
I feel sad that we started as friends and now even how he walks makes me irrationally angry.
I feel confused as to how a person can continue to penetrate somebody they say they love and not stop when that person, in tears, asks them to. (And then go on to deny that this event even happened).
I'm angered that he's not a better more proactive parent and I feel sorry for the kids for missing out on more.
I never wanted to be another one in the 30-something divorcee demographic. I wanted a happy ever after but not at the cost of my own happiness and self worth.
I feel sad for the kids. They will have a home with a happy mother and a home with dad, hopefully happy too, a dad who is forced to up his game. They'll spend time with us equally, but it's not what I wanted or envisaged when I married at 24.
He's come home tonight on the verge of tears, and despite the fact he's done that to me, and more recently has bleached my laundry and locked me out of the house, I feel sorry for him. I don't want him to be upset. He was capable of contributing more and I told him time and time again. He could have listened.
I'm not sure how to summaries my feelings. It's not regretful...sad perhaps. Melancholy? Is this just a stage to push through before the move and fresh start?