A Lesson in Loving Myself: My Story with Ben
Let me tell you about how my ex-husband’s girlfriend taught me a big lesson — one I should have learned long ago. It all started with one simple question that opened my eyes in a way I never expected.
I’ve been divorced for five years now. Five years of learning how to stand on my own two feet again. Ben, my ex-husband, is 48, and I’m 45. We were married for 13 years and we have two amazing kids together. Even after we split up, we stayed friends — real friends, not the fake kind. People are always shocked by that.
Our marriage was good sometimes and bad other times. In the end, we just wanted different things, so we let each other go. We still do a good job co-parenting our kids, and that’s what matters most.
Yesterday, we celebrated our oldest child’s 16th birthday with a nice family dinner. Ben has been dating a woman named Lisa for about four months now. He told me about her right away, because we agreed to always be open with each other — for the kids’ sake.
When he asked if he could bring Lisa to the party, I said yes. Honestly, I would have preferred to meet her one-on-one first, but I didn’t want to be the ex-wife who makes a fuss. So, I went with it.
The day of the dinner came, and that’s when I finally met Lisa. She was sweet — I could tell right away she wanted me to like her. She had this warm smile and kept asking me about the kids, their school, their sports. I liked that about her. If someone is going to be around my kids, I want them to be kind.
As the evening went on, I noticed how Lisa kept fussing over Ben. She’d fix his collar, refill his drink, touch his arm. It made me feel weird inside. I never saw him act like that when we were together. But I told myself, “It’s new. Let them be happy.”
Then something strange happened. In the middle of dinner, my oldest handed me a birthday card from Ben. My birthday was months ago! I was shocked. Ben never remembered my birthday when we were married, not once in 13 years. He always forgot anniversaries, too. I was the one who planned every Christmas, every birthday, every single thing. But it didn’t bother me back then — or so I thought.
I thanked my kid for the card and looked over at Lisa. She was watching me with this curious look. I tried to ignore it. I mingled with other guests, but Lisa wasn’t done with me yet.
She came up to me and said, laughing a little, “Ben told me he’s terrible with birthdays. He even forgot mine a few weeks ago. Is that normal?”
I laughed too, but it was the kind of laugh you use to hide a sigh. “Yeah, Lisa. Thirteen years with him and he never remembered anything special. It’s just how he is.”
I saw her smile falter for a second. I didn’t think much of it. We moved on and chatted about lighter stuff — holiday plans, school events. The party ended nicely. Hugs, cake, and happy kids.
That night, as I was about to go to bed, I got a text from a number I didn’t know. It was Lisa.
“Hi, this is Lisa. I got your number from Ben. I hope it’s okay to text you.”
I was surprised but replied, “Sure! What’s up?”
Her next message made my stomach twist. “Does Ben ever get better about birthdays and anniversaries? Or is this just how he is forever? I don’t want to push him if it’s useless.”
I just stared at my phone. For a second, I wanted to warn her: “Run! Don’t expect too much!” But another part of me felt weird about it. Why was I still the one explaining Ben to someone new?
After thinking for a minute, I wrote back, “Honestly, Lisa, he’s my ex for a reason. I can’t say if he’ll change. It’s really something you two have to figure out yourselves. It was nice meeting you, though.”
She didn’t reply after that, and I didn’t think about it much. Months passed by. Life went on. Until one evening, my phone rang. It was Ben.
“Lisa and I broke up,” he said. He sounded so angry.
“What happened?” I asked.
“She kept complaining about stupid things. Birthdays, anniversaries — she made such a big deal about them. I forgot our anniversary, and she just left. Over nothing!”
I couldn’t help it — I sighed so loud he heard it.
“Did she ever tell you how much it mattered to her?” I asked.
Ben was quiet for a moment. Then he snapped, “Yeah, she did. She said it all the time. But you never cared! So why should I care?”
I felt something rise up in my chest. I was done tiptoeing around his feelings.
“That’s exactly why we’re divorced, Ben,” I said sharply.
“That’s mean, Kim,” he muttered.
“I’m not trying to be mean. I stopped asking because I knew you didn’t care. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t care! Lisa did too. You have to meet people halfway.”
Ben didn’t like hearing that. He grumbled something and we said goodbye. I hung up and sat there, thinking about Lisa. She deserved more. She deserved someone who would remember her birthday without a reminder.
A few days later, I ran into Lisa at the grocery store. She looked tired, but she smiled when she saw me.
“Hey, how are you?” she asked.
“I’m good. You?” I asked back.
She shrugged. “I’ve been better. Ben and I broke up.”
“I heard. I’m really sorry,” I said.
She gave a sad laugh. “I just couldn’t handle feeling invisible. I kept telling him what I needed. He didn’t care.”
I looked her in the eye and said, “You did the right thing. You deserve someone who shows you you’re important.”
Lisa’s eyes softened. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”
“Don’t give up,” I said. “You’ll find someone who gets it.”
We hugged, right there by the frozen vegetables. When we said goodbye, I felt like I finally closed a door I’d been holding open for too long.
That night, I sat with my kids and we talked about their dad. I wanted them to know that even though he forgets things, he loves them so much. We laughed about old stories and silly moments — the good parts.
When they went to bed, I sat alone in the quiet house and felt at peace. Lisa had reminded me that I didn’t deserve to be forgotten. I deserved to feel special. And now, I know that I do.
It’s not really about birthdays or gifts. It’s about feeling seen and valued by the people you love. I hope Lisa finds that. I know I will, too — with or without anyone else.
For now, I have my kids, my friends, and my peace. That’s more than enough for me.
What do you think? I’d love to hear your thoughts!