The Nesting Agreement

The Nesting Agreement

The thought of making my daughter’s bounce back and forth like a tennis ball made me feel physically ill.  I couldn’t imaging packing them up for a weekend and watching them bounce around.  I knew our current situation was over and I came up with a plan that involved a lot of couches and a lot of friends.  I was determined to make it work.

I proposed a “nesting agreement”.  I would wait for “him” to come home on Friday nights at which point I would leave for the weekend.  I would stay with friends and I would be content knowing that my children were in their own beds at night.  We had tenants renting an upstairs unit at the time so I felt confident that another person was there to keep an eye on things– and to alert me if things were bad.

By mid-May, I was couch surfing on the weekends.  That term is fun if you are 19 years old however, I wasn’t 19.  I made the best of it.  I stayed with my bookkeeper one weekend and a high school friend the next.  I hate asking favors of people so this was a very humbling experience for me.  I missed my daughters greatly.  I cried a lot and I drank one too many glasses of wine on occasion.  Many of our friends were mutual friends.  I felt out of place and new that I needed to create my own support network– friends outside of my traditional circle.

I wasn’t grieving in the way that you would expect.   I had grieved over the loss of my marriage for two years before I actually left.  Once I made up my mind that things were done– I was already void of emotion for the marriage.  I didn’t miss “him” and I didn’t miss our life together.  I missed my daughters.

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