A church friend I’d grown up with called to talk. She thought I may understand or offer some perspective because she’s questioning what to do about her marriage of 19 years. All I could do was tell her my story. Right now she’s focused on the dangling carrot that is playing the role of “boyfriend” or “rescuer” (or, in my case always, “drug”) and she cut to the chase: “Let me just ask you this. Are you happier now?” hoping – I could tell – I’d say yes.
Doesn’t that sound like a simple question?
I was stumped! Have I never been asked… have I not asked myself? I stammered and stuttered …. which WAS I happier? Her attention drifted but I was determined to figure this out. “I have more self-respect now. I love myself more. And God more. And I’m closer to Andrea than ever..”
“There are things I don’t have to worry about at all that I had to then… but happier? I don’t know… AM I happier?”
The conversation went on in another direction but I thought about the happiness thing as we hung up. I started to cry. Wouldn’t I KNOW if I were happier? Doesn’t that mean, I’m NOT? And – if I’m not – was it all a mistake to split up? That couldn’t be it! We had to split up.
People to see, places to go, lessons to learn. Maybe happiness isn’t the point.