I’ve been divorced from Ben for five years now. We were married for thirteen years and have two wonderful children who remain our biggest source of joy. Our divorce wasn’t messy or dramatic—we simply realized we wanted different things from life. Even now, Ben and I stay on friendly terms, which surprises many people, but it works well for co-parenting our kids.
When our oldest child turned sixteen recently, we decided on a family dinner to celebrate. Ben mentioned he was dating someone named Lisa, and although I’d have preferred meeting her one-on-one first, I agreed she could join us. We try to keep everything transparent, especially for the sake of our children.
Meeting Lisa
I met Lisa that evening, and from the start, she was warm and friendly. She took an interest in the kids and asked thoughtful questions about their lives, making it clear she wanted to connect. I appreciated her efforts. At the same time, I felt a little uneasy watching how attentive she was toward Ben—laughing at his jokes, gently touching his arm, and looking at him like he was the best man in the room. It was sweet, but it also stirred something inside me. Ben and I never had that dynamic in our marriage; maybe it was just the thrill of a newer relationship.
The Birthday Card
Halfway through dinner, my oldest handed me a birthday card signed by Ben. I was confused; my birthday had passed months ago, and historically, Ben never remembered these types of occasions, let alone wrote me cards. During our marriage, he didn’t celebrate birthdays, anniversaries, or holidays in any big way. At the time, I convinced myself it didn’t bother me. It was just “how Ben was.”
So, I thanked our child for bringing me the card and assumed Lisa had encouraged him to do it. Then I caught Lisa giving me a peculiar look, almost like she had something she wanted to say.
Lisa’s Question
Later on, Lisa pulled me aside. “Ben mentioned he’s not great with birthdays,” she said softly. “He forgot mine recently. Is that normal for him?”
I offered a faint smile. “That’s just who he is,” I replied. “Try not to take it personally.”
She looked disappointed but nodded and walked away. I didn’t dwell on it. The evening ended on a cheerful note, and we all went our separate ways.
An Unexpected Message
That night, I received a text from Lisa. She’d gotten my number from Ben and wanted to ask, “Does Ben ever get better at remembering important dates? Is it something that can change?”
I stared at her message, feeling two conflicting urges: one part of me wanted to warn her that he probably wouldn’t change, while another part wanted to defend Ben by saying he meant no harm. But the truth—one I hadn’t fully admitted to myself during our marriage—was lingering in my mind.
Eventually, I responded: “I honestly can’t say if he’ll change. The best you can do is communicate what matters to you. It was nice meeting you, Lisa.”
The Breakup
A few months passed, and life returned to its usual flow. One evening, Ben called and sounded upset. “Lisa broke up with me,” he said, frustration cracking through his voice.
“What happened?” I asked gently.
“She kept making such a big deal about birthdays and anniversaries,” he grumbled. “I told her I just don’t care about that stuff, and we argued. She walked out.”
“Ben,” I said, choosing my words carefully, “did she tell you that it mattered to her?”
He hesitated. “She did—plenty of times.”
“And you didn’t think it was worth a try to make her happy?” I asked.
“You never cared about that stuff,” he replied defensively.
I let out a slow breath. “No, Ben. I stopped caring because I knew you didn’t. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t important to me—or to Lisa.”
A Chance Encounter
A few days later, I ran into Lisa at the grocery store. She looked worn out but forced a polite smile.
“Hey, Lisa,” I greeted, trying to convey warmth. “How’re you holding up?”
She shrugged. “I’ve been better. I broke up with Ben.”
I nodded sympathetically. “I’m sorry. Breakups are never easy.”
She sighed. “I just couldn’t stand feeling invisible. I told him these things mattered, but he didn’t seem to care.”
I reached out and gently touched her arm. “You deserve someone who respects your needs, Lisa. Don’t settle for anything less.”
She flashed a faint, appreciative smile. “Thanks. I really hoped he’d change.”
“Sometimes, change is hard for people,” I said quietly. “But don’t lose hope. You’ll find someone who sees your worth.”
A Lesson in Self-Worth
After that conversation, I couldn’t stop thinking about how Lisa’s frustration mirrored my own during my marriage. Yet, I’d never had the courage to challenge Ben the way she had. I’d buried my disappointment and convinced myself it didn’t matter. Seeing Lisa walk away made me realize I, too, deserved someone who valued what was important to me.
That night, I spoke with my kids about their dad. I wanted them to understand that despite his flaws, he loved them wholeheartedly. We laughed about the times he’d forget even his own birthday if not reminded. We also acknowledged the many good memories we’d shared.
As I reflected on everything, a calm sense of peace washed over me. I realized I’d grown stronger, learned to value my happiness, and found contentment in my life as it is now. More than anything, Lisa’s willingness to stand up for what mattered to her reminded me to never forget my own worth again.
I might not have the same relationship expectations I once did, but I do have a renewed sense of who I am and what I deserve. And in this new chapter of my life, that’s more than enough.
