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It's been almost two decades since I've thought about dating.
My wife of 17 years has decided she needs more space in her life and is leaving home.
As separations go, this has been a good one. We are destined to be friends, sharing our stories and two children — a 15-year-old daughter and a 12-year-old son.
But this is not a story of separation. It's one of discovery.
When I learned my wife was leaving, and why, I was forced to accept there was more I could have done over the years to help her find her space within the marriage.
But my lack of security manifested itself in a lack of trust for her and what we had. I created a wall around her, binding her love to me.
It took her leaving, removing herself from this environment, for me to discover and fully realize what had happened. And as I reflected on my behaviour, my desire to change led me to an unusual place.
My daughter said she wanted a belly-button ring for her birthday.
Her mother vetoed the idea, but I supported it. I went one step further, and announced I would get a tattoo at the same time.
I had two goals. I saw the tattoo as an opportunity to bond with my daughter as we wandered through the separation process. And the tattoo would be a defining symbol of this change in our lives.
It ended up becoming so much more than I expected. The decision began a trail of reflection and discovery that tied my past to a desire to change for the future.
The tattoo artist needed an image to work with, something I'd call my own. With every image there is a story. I decided that a shark would express mine.
The shark has been apparent in many forms in my life.
At 12, I learned to play snooker. My teenage years and those of my early 20s were spent in pool halls more than in any other place.
The Montreal pool hall where I played most of my games was my office, the place where I earned enough money to pay for my college education.
I was a shark preying on the young fish who challenged my space.
My bachelor's degree from Concordia University focused on an emerging area, Canadian studies. Canadian aboriginal art become an interest and then a hobby. My shark tattoo needed to reflect this education. The concept was growing.
After teaching school in my 20s, I studied business at York University. There I was introduced to scuba diving, which has taken me to exotic places around the world.
My love for the adventure of the sea eventually brought me into direct contact with sharks, an experience that intrigued and frightened me.
My fear was unfounded. The majestic creature allowed me to swim in its space, accepted me as I accepted it. I would never again see the shark as possessing anything other than beauty and motion.
But there is another side to its animal nature. The shark is territorial, and this attribute defined my relationship with my wife. In spite of the true love we shared, I behaved like a shark. My possessive nature formed an unhealthy basis for a lasting relationship.
In wearing this badge, this tattoo on my shoulder, I hope to remember the territorial behaviour that defined my 40s and not repeat it.
My wife now has the respect and trust that should have been apparent in our marriage. Just as the shark had allowed me to swim in its space freely without making me feel threatened, she needed to experience this from me.
Now in my 50s, I have to learn how to date again. I wonder how my shark will be perceived by the women whose space I enter. While it could easily be mistaken as a predator peering over my shoulder and out into the world, the image is a product of my past and represents my desire to change.
The shark is looking back. It helps me plot a future in which I will be more accepting and trusting of women. With each new relationship, and in revisiting the old, the shark will be there to remind me that we have the ability to change. We need not hurt the one we love.
The day arrived for my daughter's belly-button piercing and my tattoo. As she and I prepared for our bonding experience, she was told she wouldn't be able to get the piercing — her body, at 15, was too young and still growing.
My aging body was ready for a tattoo. The shark, in all its aboriginal beauty and grace, was ready to be immortalized on my arm as a reminder of where I have come from, what might have been and what is possible.
Steve Tissenbaum lives in Toronto.
Illustration by Paddy Molloy.
