The hardest thing about divorce
Divorce is such a nasty word. People run away from it. People going through divorces are shunned, like lepers, because no one knows what to say, because no one wants to be around that kind of negativity, because divorce is a failure of love, it’s broken promises, it’s broken hearts. I used to say marriage is forever, that I’d never get a divorce.
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I got married in March of 2016. My divorce was finalized in July of 2019. There are endless reasons why two people choose to separate - I don’t actually think divorce is a failure. It’s a successful relationship that is ending. Everything ends, it’s just a matter of when and how and why. If a divorce is happening, it’s for the best. It’s always for the best. There’s no such thing as a bad divorce. It’s extremely difficult, yes, but it’s not bad. A divorce means one or both partners are no longer willing to be in the partnership. Prolonging it by being in a bad relationship doesn’t improve things. In fact, a lot of the time divorces are so nasty because people wait too long, they wait until there is resentment, they wait until someone cheats or lies, they wait longer because being in a bad marriage that they already know feels easier than going through a divorce and into the unknown of being single again. But a divorce is an opportunity. An opportunity to find the parts of yourself that you lost or gave up for your partner. An opportunity to grow and blossom and become curious about life again and find out who you are when you don’t have to constantly think about someone else’s needs and wants and wounds and emotions. An opportunity to focus on yourself for once. What do you want? What do you feel? What have you been putting on the back burner that you can do for yourself now?
But.. divorce is incredibly difficult. I had an easy case - no kids, house in San Francisco that sold quickly, a mediator. And still, it was one of the most difficult experiences in my life. And still, it was endless tears and nasty words and it affected me so much more than I wanted to admit. I thought I was stronger. I thought I was immune. But no one is. It’s such a big life change, I eventually had to admit to myself that it affected me heavily, so that I could move on from it.
[Ready to feel good in your body and grow self love? I’ll teach you how]
Do you want to guess what the hardest part of a divorce is? I’ll give you a moment. Go ahead, take a guess.
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Ready for the answer?
The hardest part of a divorce is thinking you have a partner for life, and for some period of time actually having that partner, getting used to caring about someone else as much (maybe even more) than you care about yourself… and then one day it just all disappears. One day you move out of the house you’ve lived in together and you say one final goodbye and you’re alone. Of course you aren’t really alone (hopefully you have family and friends supporting you), but it’s the most alone that I’ve felt. Because it’s ripped away suddenly. There is an exact moment when the concept of a partner for life, all of the promises and wedding vows and forevers, all of that is suddenly ripped away, suddenly gone. I can pinpoint the exact moment when I felt single again. That’s the hardest part. That this person that knew you more deeply than anyone else ever has, your best friend, your partner, your lover, your prince, your husband, the one person you know will be there, that has to be there, the person you come home to every night, the person you talk to every day, the person you’ve fallen asleep next to for years, the person whose body you know as well as your own, the person who’s made you laugh more than anyone else, your shoulder to cry on, the person who’s been there through the hard times, the person you saw yourself growing old with, the person whose life you’ve entwined yourself with, the person whose family you consider to be your own, the person whose friends are your friends, the person who you fought with and grew with and shared every moment of your life with, the person who you gave up parts of yourself for, the person who you changed for so you could make them happier, the person you considered in every decision, the person you shopped for, the person you made dinner for, the person you celebrated life’s big and small moments with, the person who took care of you when you were sick, the person who you could say anything to, the person who loved you because of not in spite of, the person who knew and loved your weirdness, who you could be fully yourself with, the person who promised to be yours forever… that person is just gone. In a single moment, all of that is ripped away. The past, the future, it’s gone and it’s changed and it’s different and it’ll never be the same.
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After a year of struggling to make our marriage work, there was an exact moment when I knew my marriage was over for me. I went on a work trip to Reno and I asked to have no communication with my (then) husband so I could focus on being present. And at the end of the trip, I realized how happy and relieved I felt having had the freedom to focus on me, to not talk to or think about him at all, and how even after days of silence, I didn’t want to start talking again. It was such a clear sign. There wasn’t anything to waiver over, to consider. I was just… done.
[Ready to feel good in your body and grow self love? I’ll teach you how]
I ended my marriage. It was mutual, but I was the one who said, we need a divorce, this isn’t working out. He agreed. He thanked me for not waiting longer, not waiting until we both moved to LA, until he threw away his whole life, for me, only to split up. He thanked me.
Our divorce was so difficult. Your person suddenly becomes your adversary. I’m not sure there’s any other way, I’m not sure there’s any easy way out of a marriage, out of a promise of forever. Probably not.
I can’t say it’s my lowest point or that it’s the worst I’ve ever felt in my life. But it was a very specific pain, a pain I refused to accept or process for a long time, but that nevertheless heavily affected my wellbeing.
It’s taken me almost a year to start moving forward again. I was so stuck. It took me months and months to even admit I was hurting. Because it was mutual. Because it was simple. Because our divorce was supposed to be different, easy, nice, because it was us. But, no divorce is nice.
This isn’t a sad story. This is simply a story of what is. We fell in love, we got married, but we were wrong for each other. And now we’re apart and we are so much happier, healthier, better. And I truly wish him the best. He deserves it.
People ask if I want to get remarried someday… Of course I do. I want that magic. I want my person, my forever. Being divorced has not changed my rosy ideas of love, of partnership. It’s given me a better template of what I want, what works for me, what it takes to be in a marriage. But I’m still me - endlessly optimistic, eternally a hopeless romantic. I’m not tainted. Divorce is not a bad word; it’s not a disease that you can catch by being around divorcees; it’s not a death sentence. I’m still me. I’m a better version. A little beat up, but a lot less rough around the edges.
[Ready to feel good in your body and grow self love? I’ll teach you how]
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So to my future husband.. don’t think of me as someone who’s already done it. Don’t think of me as impure or tainted or less magical just because I’ve been married before. Don’t compare us to my previous marriage. Don’t wonder if I’m comparing you to my ex-husband - I’m not. Don’t think that I’ll leave because I’ve done it before. Don’t think that I’m heartless or emotionless or broken.
And to my future husband:
I promise to love you like I’ve never loved before. I promise that our wedding will be nothing short of perfect. I promise to be a better version of myself and to grow with you, not apart. I promise you have nothing to live up to. I promise that my heart is whole and open and that it’s yours, fully, no missing pieces. That in fact you’re getting parts of my heart that no one has ever seen or touched before you. I promise that my promises will be different, because I’m different, that my past has made me better, smarter, more patient. I promise that I am yours, that you never have to question it. I promise you myself, forever.
[Ready to feel good in your body and grow self love? I’ll teach you how]
