I married him because I loved him. I divorced him because I love myself more. Divorce is a really bad thing. It's pretty simple, right? You get married because you love someone, you divorce because you no longer love them. When you get married, choose china and furniture. When you get divorced you fight over who gets to get the china and furniture. Divorce doesn't have to be bad. Once we realized this was what needed to be done, we sat down and talked about dividing our personal property, child support, and visitation. We spoke at least weekly before the divorce was actually final. It was reminiscent of our dating days. I actually started to forget why we were getting divorced. That September day in 2010 was a lot like the October day in 1994. The sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky. It was peaceful. We stood side by side in love with each other, with tears in our eyes as we said "I do." That day the judge doubted us; he looked at me and said he didn't think that was what I wanted. I remember looking at the man I was married to and then back at the judge and saying, “This has to happen for us. We cannot continue as we are” The judge leaned back in his chair and looked back at me and then at my husband, leaned forward and told us “I don't think you're telling me the whole story.” I couldn't believe it was so obvious. How did the judge know? No, I wasn't telling the whole truth. We knew the truth, but there was no point in admitting it now. I couldn't tell the judge, for heaven's sake, he was playing golf with my boss last week. No, I was keeping this secret. I was sure he would deny the divorce. My husband stood there with a look of terror on his face. He knew I was trying to decide what to say. I looked back… at the center of the paper… I don't hate it. I just didn't love him or trust him anymore. After that night I promised myself that I would work on being nicer to him. I make a point of asking girls if they've talked to him and when they'll see him. I have reminded him of events that may cause a conflict with his scheduled visit and have offered to switch weekends to ensure he has time with his children. Three months have passed since that night. I spoke to him once. I wish I had been stronger. I allowed the people around me to dictate my actions. My children are the ones who have suffered the most. They endured having their family torn apart and forced to take sides. I can't undo the damage, but I know I can work harder for the sake of my children. Maybe one day they will forgive me for allowing this to happen. I just hope I can forgive myself for the pain I inflicted on them.