Surviving Narcissism Exploring life after marriage to a narcissist. Learning and thriving by sharing our story. – Jesse Blayne

Jenny is bummed because her closest friend is drifting away.  Last year they were in the same class.  This year they are in different classes, and while we arrange for the girls to get together outside of class, the relationship is definitely changing.  Jen doesn’t understand why Hailey isn’t interested in the same things anymore.  Jen wants to know why Hailey doesn’t listen anymore.  That’s tough for a 2nd grader.  And it’s tough for a 2nd grader’s mom.

But the issue with Hailey opened up an interesting conversation for the three of us.  I was trying to explain to Jen and Will about friendships and relationships, in general.  I’ve gotten that email about friends, a couple times, now.  You know the one — it talks about how some people come into your life briefly, some come into your life for awhile, and some come into your life to stay.

I was trying to explain to Jen that she and Hailey had paths that were headed in the same direction for awhile.  They liked the same things, told the same secrets, and giggled at the same time.  That was lovely for awhile.  But people change, and sometimes their path takes them in a different direction.  That’s not a bad thing.  It’s a little sad, because you still wish that person’s path was along side yours.  But it’s exciting to think that you will be bumping into another person, who may be on the same path as you.  And then, at some point, your path will change, and you will veer off in a new direction.  I wanted them to see that they should be happy that their paths intersect with other paths for lots of reasons.  They should see the benefit of those crossings and not be so blue when the paths head off in new directions.  They get to take all the things they learn, and  all those shared experiences with them on their own new path.

Of course, that led to my talking about how Mark and I were on the same path for awhile.  I wanted them to understand how grateful I am that my path crossed with Mark’s.  If it hadn’t, there wouldn’t be Will and Jenny.  Naturally, they both wanted to know why my path wasn’t the same as Mark’s anymore.  I started to give them that tired old excuse  about how people grow and change, and blah, blah, blah.  But my kids are pretty visual.  I wanted to give them something that would drive the point home.  I explained that Mark and I were sort of driving down this path, but it was like we were in two separate cars.  I guess I wasn’t comfortable in his car, and he didn’t particularly like my car.  His car was fancy and pristine.  His car was very organized.  You couldn’t drink coffee in his car or eat Goldfish Crackers in his car.  Booster seats never really fit properly in his car.  My car had plenty of room for booster seats, graham crackers, granola bars, wipes, bikes, stuffed animals, books, papers, crayons, and frisbees.

One day, as we were headed down our path, side-by-side, in our two separate cars, it was like my hand involuntarily (or maybe not so involuntarily) yanked on the steering wheel,  my car went out of control, and I crashed right into his car and caused a seriously messed up demolition.  I reminded them of those cool demolition derbies that they see on T.V., where the car is totally trashed, but the driver jumps out, arms in the air, grinning from ear to ear.   I tried to explain that I had been ready for a new path for awhile.  I wasn’t happy traveling that same path with their dad anymore.  In order to head out on a new path, I made the choice to not be married to their dad any longer.  I pointed out that divorce is a lot like a demolition derby.  There’s a lot of messed up cars, but usually everybody walks away intact.  Some drivers, of course, come out of the derby much happier than others.