This is the story of how my ex-husband’s new girlfriend inadvertently forced me to confront a reality about him that I had become too complacent with during our marriage. With one critical query, she inadvertently provided a crucial lesson in self-worth after unexpectedly making contact.
It has been five years since our divorce, and navigating life post-divorce has been quite the odyssey. My ex-husband, Ben, now 48, and I, at 45, had spent 13 years together. We share two incredible children from our marriage. Even after our separation, we have maintained a surprisingly harmonious relationship.
We’ve managed to co-parent with a certain efficacy, despite the roller coaster our marriage had been. Ben and I have even sustained a friendship that often astonishes those around us. Our divorce concluded without acrimony; it was a mutual recognition that we each sought different paths in life.
Our eldest child recently turned 16, and we decided to mark the occasion with a family dinner. Ben has been seeing someone new, a woman named Lisa, for about four months. He informed me about her once their relationship became serious.
Part of our mutual agreement post-divorce was to maintain transparency, primarily for the well-being of our children. He asked if he could bring Lisa to the birthday dinner. Though I wasn’t particularly thrilled, as I would have preferred to meet her in a more private setting first, I agreed, not wishing to create any discomfort or intrusion on what should be a celebratory occasion.
That evening, I finally met Lisa. She was warm and eager to make a positive impression, which I found reassuring, especially considering her involvement in my children’s lives.
She approached me with a friendly smile and immediately engaged in conversation about the kids’ schooling and activities. Her effort to integrate and connect was apparent and appreciated.
As the night progressed, I couldn’t help but notice Lisa’s attentive nature towards Ben. It was endearing, yet slightly disconcerting as it highlighted a side of Ben I had seldom seen during our marriage. I attributed this behavior to the freshness of their relationship and tried to focus on the celebration.
The evening took a strange turn when my eldest handed me a birthday card from Ben—unexpected since my birthday had passed months earlier. Known for his forgetfulness on such occasions, it was a peculiar but touching gesture.
Ben, the father of my children, is fundamentally a good man, yet notoriously poor at remembering dates like birthdays or anniversaries. During our marriage, he never managed to keep track of these special days, leaving the responsibility of organizing celebrations like the kids’ birthdays and holiday festivities to me. I had grown accustomed to this and it never really bothered me. I thanked my daughter, touched by the thought.
Across the table, Lisa noticed my reaction. Perhaps assuming she influenced him to buy the card, I observed the curious looks she gave me. To avoid an awkward interaction, I decided to mingle with other guests.
However, Lisa soon found an opportunity to speak with me. “Ben mentioned he’s not great with birthdays,” she said, laughing lightly. “He forgot mine a few weeks ago. Was it always like this? Is it intentional?”
I laughed, memories of missed anniversaries and forgotten special days flooding back. “I really don’t know, Lisa, but 13 years of marriage and two kids later, it certainly wasn’t because he mastered it,” I responded. “It’s just part of who he is.”
Lisa appeared to be slightly disheartened by this, trying to mask her disappointment. I changed the subject to more general family plans and upcoming holiday festivities. The rest of the evening proceeded without incident, and we parted with smiles and hugs.
Later that night, as I prepared for bed, my phone lit up with a text from an unknown number. It was Lisa. “Hi, this is Lisa. Ben gave me your number. I hope it’s okay to text. I have something to ask you.”
Curious, I replied, “Sure, what’s on your mind?”
Her response was swift and when I read it, I was utterly STUNNED. She was still pondering our earlier discussion and wanted to know if Ben’s neglect of special occasions was something that could be remedied. “I know it might seem strange because we already talked about this, but I need to know… Can Ben improve with remembering birthdays and anniversaries? I don’t want to overreact if it’s something that won’t change.”
I paused, feeling a mix of emotions. Part of me wanted to warn her, to advise her not to hold her breath.
Another part of me considered whether to alert Ben to her concerns. It seemed like a significant issue for her and that she expected more attentiveness to these matters. Yet, I also felt a bitter twinge at the idea of helping him improve on something he never prioritized for me.
It didn’t seem like my place to interfere. After a moment, I typed back, “Honestly, he’s my ex for a reason. I can’t say if he’ll change, and I’m not the one with the answers you need. It’s something you two will have to figure out together. It was lovely meeting you, though.”
Months passed without further thought on that night. Then, unexpectedly, Ben called. “Lisa and I broke up,” he announced, his voice tinged with frustration.
“What happened?” I inquired, genuinely curious.
“She made a big deal out of nothing, constantly complaining about birthdays and anniversaries. I told her it’s just not something I care about, and she couldn’t let it go,” he explained, noticeably annoyed.
“It led to a massive argument when I forgot our anniversary, and she left,” he continued, his irritation palpable.
I sighed, feeling a hint of guilt, wondering if I could have supported Lisa more when she reached out. “Ben, did she tell you that it was important to her?” I asked, feeling partly responsible for their breakup.
He was silent for a moment before admitting, “She mentioned many times that it mattered to her.”
“But WHO CARES! You never made a big deal out of it,” he retorted defensively.
Exasperated with his lack of empathy, I replied, “Well, sir, and that’s precisely why we divorced.”
“That’s harsh, Kim,” my ex said, sounding hurt.
“Look, I’m sorry, but I stopped trying because I knew it wouldn’t matter to you,” I replied calmly. “But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t important to me. Or to her. Sometimes, you have to meet people halfway.”
Ben muttered something under his breath, clearly not ready to accept this reality. We ended the call on a neutral note, and I sat back, reflecting on Lisa. She deserved someone who would value her efforts and reciprocate her emotions.
A few days later, I ran into Lisa at the grocery store. She looked weary but managed a smile when she saw me. “Hi, how are you?” she asked politely.
“I’m well, thanks. How about you?” I replied, my concern genuine.
“I’ve been better,” she admitted. “Ben and I broke up.”
“I heard,” I said softly. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”
She sighed, the weight of her disappointment evident. “I couldn’t handle feeling unimportant. I tried to explain it to him, but he didn’t seem to care.”
I nodded, fully understanding her frustration. “It’s difficult when someone doesn’t value what you do. You deserve someone who will.”
Lisa smiled sadly. “Thanks. I appreciate that. I guess I hoped he could change.”
“Change is hard for some people,” I said gently. “But don’t lose hope. You’ll find someone who values you.”
We parted ways, and I felt a strange sense of closure. Lisa’s struggle mirrored my past frustrations, but it also highlighted how much I had grown since my marriage ended. I had learned to accept Ben’s flaws, but I also realized that I deserved more than what he was willing to give.
That evening, I sat down with my children and talked about their dad. I wanted them to understand that while he had his shortcomings, he loved them deeply. We laughed about his forgetfulness and shared stories of the good times we had as a family.
As I reflected on everything, I felt a deep sense of peace. I had moved on from the hurt and disappointment and was ready to embrace whatever the future held. I hoped Lisa would find the happiness she deserved, and I knew that I had done the right thing by not getting too involved in their relationship.
In the end, it wasn’t about birthdays or anniversaries. It was about finding someone who truly valued and appreciated you for who you are. I did not doubt that Lisa would find that person someday, and I knew I was finally content with my own life.
As I looked at my children, I felt grateful for the love and joy they brought into my life. We had our good and bad moments, but we were a family, and that was what mattered most. And as for Ben, I hoped he would eventually learn to value the important things in life.
For now, I was happy. I had my kids, friends, and a sense of peace I hadn’t felt in a long time. And that was more than enough.
