#Unsettled

My husband and I are often the “young ones” in our friend group, but lately, that youthful status feels heavy. Over the past few years, it seems like we are standing in the middle of a collapsing skyline. A number of our friends have either gone through a divorce or are currently standing on the brittle edge of one.

It’s the era of the “Silver Divorce.”

My husband and I discuss it often. We dissect it like an autopsy, trying to find the cause of death in relationships that once looked indestructible. Was it resentment? Infidelity? The slow death of intimacy? (That’s usually our first guess). Lack of communication? The possibilities are endless, but the theme is hauntingly common.

I had an honest conversation with a friend recently who simply stated, “The spark just went out.” There was no villain. No dramatic betrayal. They bore no ill will toward their ex; they had just simply lost the romantic pulse. It happens. You look at the fireplace and realize that while the hearth is still there, the heat is gone.

But then, I look at another couple we know. They were done. Paperwork was filed, they were living apart, the towel had been thrown. Yet, something called them back to the ring for one more round. They found a way to blow on the tiniest, hidden ember, and the spark re-ignited. Was it divine intervention or a stubborn will to fight?

So here come my questions… Is it possible to reignite the spark once the room has gone cold? How do you keep the flame alive when the wood is damp? Is it okay if the spark goes out? And if it does… what comes next?

I personally believe everything happens for a reason. I believe people drift in and out of our lives for specific seasons. I also believe it’s 100% possible to have more than one soulmate.

But I also believe in free will.

If you decide that the person you started your life with—the person you had children with—is destined to be your “end game,” then by all means: Strike the match. Fight for the light. However, I am also a proponent of choosing yourself, your mental health, and your survival. Perhaps you found your “first soulmate” and that contract has simply expired. Goals shift. Behaviors change. The pull that brought you together twenty years ago has lost its magnetic north. It doesn’t have to be ugly, but it will hurt to watch the fire die down.

So, how do you decide when to stay or go? What is the final straw in a seemingly “perfect” relationship? Has the time simply run out, or is there still an ember buried among the ashes waiting for a breath of air?

My husband and I have been together for more than two-and-a-half decades. I’m not going to sugarcoat it: It’s not always sunshine and rainbows. Sometimes it’s tough. There are plenty of times when I don’t feel like a priority. There are empty promises of time spent together and date nights that never materialize. And I know I’m guilty, too. We get busy. We prioritize work, the kids, the house, the “stuff.” We fall into the dangerous habit of taking each other for granted, letting the fire burn down to a low glow while we attend to everything else in the room.

I can see exactly how the cracks start. But then we recognize the chill in the air and we make the adjustment.

A relationship is like a home, and the spark is the furnace. It requires constant maintenance. Items need to be repaired, appliances need to be serviced, and the woodpile needs to be replenished. If you ignore the roof leak, eventually the whole structure rots. Your relationship needs that same level of service. If you don’t attend to the flame, the house becomes cold and eventually, irrevocably broken.

My message is this: Address the cracks. Tend to the fire. But don’t set yourself on fire just to keep the room warm.

A relationship is a two-way street—a partnership on equal footing. It shouldn’t fall on one person to keep the match lit. If you’ve struck every match in the box and the hearth remains cold? It’s okay to walk out of the house.

I believe there is a “second-chance mate” for everyone—a new fire for a new season. But if you believe what you have right now is worth the fight, then pick up your tools, find that hidden ember, and get to work.

Above everything else… Be true to yourself, even when the truth is uncomfortable.

Always with love and gratitude,

My unsettled souls.