When the Light Changed

Part Three: The Quiet Undoing

Finding the person who genuinely connects to your soul usually happens when you aren’t looking. Instead, you’re focused on your own happiness, your survival, your peace of mind. It blindsides you—and even then, it often takes a while to recognize what’s unfolding. I was deep into the process of discovering who I wanted to become when that person appeared. Nothing happened right away, but I was already restless in my circumstances. I kept waiting for my husband to become the responsible man I’d hoped law school would inspire in him. Returning to school had transformed me—why hadn’t it done the same for him?

There was no sign that change was coming, and our relationship was continuing to dissolve.

When May 2012 arrived, we celebrated my husband’s graduation from law school with his family. Spirits were high, and for a while, things felt hopeful. He immersed himself fully in studying daily, preparing for the exam in July. I decided to turn his trip into a mini-family vacation, wanting to explore Washington, D.C. with the kids. Although we really couldn’t afford to travel, the expense of his trip was already set—the added cost for the kids and me was nominal, and the memories would be worth it. While my husband studied and took the Bar, I planned visits to museums, the zoo, and a tour of the Capitol.

Throughout our trip, I maintained a blog originally created as an assignment for a writing class the previous spring semester. My website, usually laden with random life musings, transformed into a fun-filled travel journal. Documenting our daily adventures brought me some happiness in the midst of having to remain cautious with our spending. At the same time, I was finishing my final two classes before graduating in August. Each night, though exhausted, I kept up with my assignments, determined to continue my success in college.

When my graduation rolled around a month later, I walked across the stage with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. I hadn’t originally planned to attend the ceremony, but my parents weren’t having it—they insisted. We struck a deal: if they drove from Texas to watch, I’d put on the cap and gown. They agreed, and I found myself participating in all the pomp and circumstance.