You must keep moving

Today Facebook prompted this image to me when I was surfing the net, bored and a little worried because my eldest daughter seems to be sick :/

I spent my day with the kids and my ex husband at the playground near the sea in my city.

If I didn't keep moving in my life, I definitely wouldn't be there today. And if life didn't force me to act quite contrarily respect to what I would have behaved if I was the only one to decide what to do with my girls, they wouldn't have been there with him either.

I have been married for 11 years with M. When we me he was a handsome guy, nice and polite. Or at least this is what I thought at the moment. My marriage taught me at least not to judge a book by its cover.

We almost immediately started to quarrel. I loved him but everything was wrong with us. Probably it has been a matter of culture. He's a sunni muslim. I define myself a stray dog.

My family taught me the importance of respect for other people's life and freedom. I have a university degree and I am a free thinker, outspoken and very keen to friendship with people of different cultures, sex and religion.

His culture - and his dad, sad but true - taught him to find a woman who could wash his clothes, cook him meals and have sex on request. 

Obviously it couldn't last long. Sometimes I ask myself how we managed to live in the same flat for eleven years without stabbing each other.

Our marriage had a sad ending. One day he came home from another city and found our house empty. I fled with the girls. Well, if an unemployed woman flees with two baby girls, the eldest one disabled  and just some more than two years old, she has a very very good reason to do it, considering the fact that Social Services here in Italy are quick to take away kids in this kind of situation.

After we have been forced to cooperate for the kids, we spent years screaming on the phone for the most stupid reason. I don't regret for this, I had my reasons and maybe I still have, but I am really sure that if a marriage fails both spouses have their share of fault. And I am sure I have mine.

Then something happened. One day we simply found ourselves talking like two normal friends. I don't know if we managed to do this for the sake of our kids. I can't tell what prompted him to change his attitude. But I know what changed mine.

Living in rage is very, very tiring.

I had two options. 

#1, going on hating him as long as I lived. 

#2, checking if there was a chance to save something. I chosen the second, and I was right. Or lucky. I can't say.

M has changed a lot in the last two years. I don't know why. And I really don't want to know. He's a good dad, with his many limitations, but I know he acts the best he can. 

I tried to forget our problems and to go on. 

Once he asked me if I have forgiven him for the way he treated the girls and me when we were married.

I think that forgiving him was really the only one option I had.

Ok, some lines ago I wrote I had two, but I really felt I had just one.

Rage and hatred are destructive feelings. You can't hate someone without somewhat hating yourself too. Hate hurts. Hate burns. Hate uses your energies and in the end it becomes an obsession.

I felt it myself and I found myself trying to shape my life in the way to hurt him as much as I could. And one day I understand I was hurting myself too. Yes, I guess I had my reason to complain about his behavior, but one day I understood that this hate was ruining my life too, using my energies I could have best used to do something better. 

I am happy I decided to keep moving. And I hope my girls will learn this too.