Divorce settlement
When Bianca Barton’s* husband walked out, it broke her heart. The road to healing was tough but, five years later, she is happier than ever
My son and I were out walking on New Year’s Eve when a couple crossed the road in front of us, hand in hand. It was my ex-husband of 25 years with the woman he had left me for five years ago. It was the first time I had seen them together.
Thirty years ago, this man and I would have been celebrating the new year as newlyweds. It was clear that he had moved on. Watching them, I might have been devastated – but, in that moment, I realised that I was finally over him.
Point of no return
Six months before, a friend had told me that the man who had once been the love of my life was engaged. It sent me into a tailspin. I believed I had healed, but I felt rejected all over again. My friend was shocked at my reaction. ‘It’s been four years,’ she said, ‘don’t let him ruin any more of your life!’
Over the following six months, I had CBT with a therapist, the latest stage in a determined battle to recover and move out of the dark place I often found myself. That New Year’s meeting showed that it had been worth it. When I look back on that day now, I am brimming with pride at how content
I am with the new life that I have created for myself. I would not swap it for anything.
In July 2015, just as our younger son was packing for university, my husband bluntly told me that he was leaving too. There had been plenty of warning signs. Six months earlier, he had started a job working miles away during the week. I had just secured a fantastic teaching job, but I knew he felt lost.
Drifting away
When he came home at the end of the week, I was buzzing with news, but he seemed preoccupied and uninterested. Over the following months, instead of coming back to his family, he went to his sports club. I would call him, but there would be no answer. I would cook his favourite meal, which would stay untouched in the fridge. I knew something was badly wrong.
I asked him, ‘Are we OK?’ Without hesitation, he said that he had feelings for someone else. I suggested relationship counselling. He refused. Three days later, he told our two boys that he didn’t love me any more, packed his bags and left the family home. I was devastated and felt humiliated.
I continued my life on autopilot. With both my boys at uni, I pretended to friends that I was coping. In reality, I was engulfed by a tidal wave of grief. I would come home after work and go to bed without eating. I felt lonely and gripped by the agony of no longer feeling needed as a wife and mother.
More than 20 years ago, my