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"  I am a firm believer in marriage. It offers the promise of love and support across a lifetime and is a sacred commitment that no one should take lightly. Yet I recently walked away from my own after 20 years. I don&amp;#039;t see any hypocrisy in my decision; leaving was absolutely the right choice for me.  When I married, I believed, as most do, that it would be for life. I set out to be the best wife I could be, and my husband, Mark, and I built our marriage and our family around our love and a set of shared values\u2014values we frequently talked about and later worked to instill in our four sons. Together we experienced many adventures through what grew to be a long stand in the political spotlight: Mark served six years in U.S. Congress and then seven years as governor of South Carolina before our divorce. (He is finishing out his second term now.)  I can&amp;#039;t claim that things were always blissfully romantic or picture-perfect for us\u2014like all couples, we had our share of stresses and differences\u2014but I was sure ours was a secure union. I believed Mark shared my commitment to the ideas of marriage for life and of family just as I believed in the admirable work he was doing for our state and country. Nothing he said or did led me to believe that he could make the choices that would ultimately tear our family to pieces, that he could stray so far from what I had long thought of as his solid moral core. Mark had an affair, and I discovered it in a rather mundane and all-too-common way: I found a letter he had written to his mistress. When I confronted him, he immediately and repeatedly assured me that he would end the affair, that he was sorry, and that he was committed to making things right. His apology and clear pain allowed me to see his affair as a seriously unfortunate choice but also as an aberration, a temporary departure from the values we shared. I wanted very much to believe that our marriage could be repaired.  Though I was crushed when I learned of Mark&amp;#039;s affair, I chose early on to not be a victim. Mark&amp;#039;s behavior was his doing, and I was sure nothing I did or didn&amp;#039;t do excused it. But I also knew placing blame wouldn&amp;#039;t improve the situation. Working to understand and forgive felt better for me, and it was the right behavior to model for our kids. I knew my relationship with Mark was going to change and that things would be different. But I hoped for a better kind of different\u2014for us to grow stronger and closer for weathering our crisis. I had absolutely no interest in staying in the marriage if it was to be more of the same. I made myself a promise: I would move slowly and deliberately so that whatever happened, I would not have regrets about what might have been. I did a lot of soul-searching during the weeks and months of striving to understand and reconcile, as well as in the months that followed the public discovery of his bad behavior. I carefully considered the vows Mark and I had taken. Committing to one another &amp;quot;in sickness and in health&amp;quot; was an easy one; I would be steadfast and loyal to Mark until death if his or my health was the cross we were given to bear. &amp;quot;In good times and bad&amp;quot; was also clear to me. I would, of course, stick by my husband regardless of political, financial, or geographical circumstances. But what if one spouse simply becomes disconnected from the values the union was formed around?  I ruminated on how long a marriage should continue to exist if the two parties no longer shared the same fundamental principles\u2014like honesty and fidelity\u2014upon which they had based their lives. Forgiveness is essential in marriage, but I started to see that my repeated forgiveness was likely enabling the poor choices Mark continued to make.  My patience and understanding ran out. After giving him repeated chances to start moving more honestly and openly toward reconciliation, I realized he had allowed himself to wander so far from the values we had shared that I had no choice but to move on. I suddenly understood that if he were ever to become the honest man I had believed him to be, he would have to get back to that set of values on his own. I decided consciously and purposefully to move on, and I quickly set about making divorce a reality. Because I had come to that place slowly and deliberately, I had no regrets. I could move to divorce peacefully, without bitterness and anger, and with a focus on positive growth for our family in the future, albeit in a new form.  The result, so far, has not only been liberating and gratifying, it has also opened up new possibilities and opportunities for a successful and fulfilling future. I now face new challenges as a single mother with sons whose world was also turned upside down, but I am experiencing the joys of being back in a home of my own, in a real neighborhood, void of politics and the press\u2014for the most part. The boys too are learning what it is like to live like normal boys, mostly outside of the fishbowl. I&amp;#039;ve found another silver lining in terms of my professional life. When Mark and I were married, I always figured that when our kids were old enough, I would go back to work in some form that would stimulate and satisfy me. I can now see, however, that my willingness (indeed my choice) to play second fiddle to Mark&amp;#039;s career aspirations had become entrenched. I&amp;#039;m not so sure I could have reinvented myself professionally in his shadow and found true satisfaction. Now I can look at employment opportunities in a whole different light.  Last but certainly not least, I can now look at romance in a new way. I have the mature knowledge of how difficult relationships can be, and I understand how to humbly work through differences. After all, I was able to make it 20 years with someone! Instead of looking at a long-term relationship as one that might include raising a family, I can look\u2014if I choose\u2014for someone to enjoy the opportunities that come with experience and maturity, to relish watching those same gains in my sons, and to share the possible blessings of grandparenting. I can seek someone to grow old with respectfully, peacefully, and happily. I can look for a true companion, someone to share the nightcap or bedtime story that gracefully brings closure to a full life.  My expectations for a relationship are different, more open, more accepting, and yet there is the comforting underlying and fundamental knowledge that I don&amp;#039;t need a relationship at all. I have long known that my happiness comes from within, with God&amp;#039;s help, and it is something I choose daily. Thus I know I am happy without a relationship or love, but if I choose either, or both, it will serve only to increase that happiness if it is right. I now recognize that I am not in control of anything but my own choices. I have done my best to live well and will continue to do so. I have loved fully and have loved well. There is no reason I cannot do so again. I have been successful as an independent woman and as a married woman, and I see no reason why I cannot be successful as a mature but divorced woman too. I have lived a full and mostly happy life, and as I approach 50, I truly believe that, for me, the best is yet to come. Jenny Sanford is the author of Staying True, available in paperback on October 19. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
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