I have decided to share the final straw in my marriage with my ex-husband, which happened when the two of us went to [Famous Theme Park] with my eight-year-old son.
I happen to use a wheelchair, and navigating through crowded places can be very dangerous. For those who have never experienced it, just imagine that my head is at the level where people’s backpacks and bags can hit me. Some people try to cut in front of me instead of waiting for a second or two for me to pass, assuming I can just stop on a dime. I have collided with people’s legs and nearly had them fall on top of me several times.
My ex-husband is an impatient man who stands 6’2″ tall, so his strides are long and allow him to cover ground quickly. If I couldn’t keep up, he would just zoom off ahead, leaving me to struggle in his wake. He refused to slow down for me, so we would never go anywhere together. He would go ahead and then have to wait for me to catch up. Naturally, our son also couldn’t keep up, so he had to wait for both of us at the park. He saw no reason to travel at a pace that we all could maintain; he would just snap at us to stop being so slow.
We were there for ourselves, but mostly for our son, as it was his first trip. My son wanted to go on one ride, but my ex-husband wanted to go on a different one. Since we were there for my son’s enjoyment, I cast my vote in his favor, and I even tried reasoning with my ex-husband that we could go on the ride he wanted afterward.
Instead, my ex furiously stormed off to get in line for his ride, leaving us behind. He yelled over his shoulder that we could catch up when we were done being selfish.
Son: “You know what? Let him go off and be by himself.”
Me: “Are you sure?”
Son: “Dad doesn’t want to lead or protect you, Mom. It’s my turn. We don’t need him.”
I was feeling a mix of sadness and pride all at once, when it suddenly hit me. My elementary-school-aged son was a better man than the one I was married to.
Instead of allowing my ex to belittle and disrespect us, we chose to go our own way. At 8 years old, my son wasn’t that tall, but he made sure people kept their bags away from my head. We enjoyed rides and had fun together, walking at our own pace. It took my ex over three hours to find us again.
My ex and I divorced a few years after that trip; it was a lengthy process, as my ex made it difficult and dragged it out.
He remarked to my son as he finally left the house:
Ex: “You’re going to be the man of the house now. Think you’re able to do that?”
Son: “I’ve been the man of this house since you failed to be, starting when I was eight. I think I’ve got this.”
My ex later told me that those were the harshest words anyone had ever said to him.
Now, my son is sixteen. He grew up to be an amazing young man, and I am blessed to have him.