My ex-husband filed for an annulment without my knowledge.

Preface: I wanted to provide some clarity. The title of this blog is an objective fact. He did indeed file for annulment and did not first reach out to me. This occurred more than a year after our marriage legally ended in a divorce. If the 'other party' stands by this decision and sees nothing wrong with it, there is literally nothing in the remainder of the blog to be concerned about, as it is my personal, emotional response to the situation. I am being asked to relive a chapter of my life, in great detail, that I thought was closed. And I am being asked to do it without any reason assigned to it. Had a reason been provided, I would have offered more delicacy of the handling of the situation. Of course, this has been a painful experience for me. My intent of this blog was to process my emotions the best way I know how, and that is through writing.

I sat down in my therapist's office, not knowing what I wanted to talk about that day. Usually, I always know.

She said, "Before we get started, I have one matter of business we need to discuss."

I thought she was telling me that she raised her rates.

She proceeded.

"I got a letter from the Archdiocese of Louisville."

I was very confused. I had no idea what that had to do with me.

She continued.

"He has filed for an annulment."

She said a lot of things between that and her final statement.

"So ... it would be like your marriage never existed."

I cried.

She waited.

Sessions are $145 out of pocket for a 45-minute session.

I was suddenly acutely aware of how much time I was wasting.

She was suddenly acutely aware that this was the first time I was hearing of this.

She was appalled. Dumbfounded.

She apologized a lot. For being the one who had to tell me.

I said, "I feel so dumb for letting him still have this much power over me."

She encouraged me to feel whatever I needed to feel for one week, and then put it behind me. She asked if that was realistic.

I said that it was.

She encouraged me to be "disinterested."

Disinterested was the last thing I was.

I was outraged. I was livid. Our marriage was a lot of things, but illegitimate was not one of them.

I sat on this for a few days.

I finally emailed the "Tribunal."

They emailed back.

I had options.

I knew there was the "easier" option, which was to let this play its course without my involvement.

And then I knew there was the option I wanted to take.

I wanted to provide my testimony, as truthfully as I can.

I don't really care if the Catholic Church wants to label my failed marriage as a "divorce," which is what it has legally been since January 2022, or if they want to define it as some type of void transaction to trick God into believing it was something less than what is was, but I knew I wanted to provide my truth.

As soon as I sent the email stating I would provide a testimony, I felt instant relief. I knew it was the right decision for me.

At first, I was going to opt for the paper questionnaire, which asked approximately 1,437 intrusive questions, but I then decided for an in-person testimony.

I thought, "If I am going to do this, I am going to do it right." It may not have been real to Tyler or the Church or whoever else, but it was VERY real to me. And someone, I don't care who, is going to look me in the eye as I give my testimony, and they are going to feel my pain and feel my grief and realize how legitimate this was. You can't just wish it away for the sake of convenience.

My testimony probably won't matter, because this is a revenue stream for the Church, but it will matter to me.

I am no longer choosing to be powerless.