I am now a member of a not-so-exclusive club, as my divorce became legally final yesterday. It has been over, dead, final, muerto, finito, erledict in my head for so long that Monday was really not that significant. However, it is nice to have the book completely closed.
About a month after he-whose-name-shall-not-be-spoken left me, a friend from high school posted an elegant, yet heartbreaking, status on Facebook announcing her separation/divorce. As soon as I read it, I sent her a private message thanking her for her bravery, as I was still trying to screw up the courage to make my own situation public. Today I was humbled to receive a private message that was virtually identical to the one I had sent a few months before. The sender told me that her husband had left and they were filing for divorce, and she thanked me for writing and sharing my experiences. As I wrote my reply, I started wondering: Why is it that we (women, in my experience, but probably the same for some men) feel we have to keep our separation a secret? I don't have the answers, just my own secrets to tell.
I sincerely enjoyed being a wife, and I thought I was pretty good at it. When my ex announced (pretty much out of the blue) that he didn't want to be married anymore, I felt like a failure. Shame crippled me for a long time. I felt I couldn't confide in anyone that knew both of us (like 120 mutual Facebook friends) because they would judge him or me, and I was still trying to protect him and the image I had of my perfect marriage. Honestly, it was a relief to find out that there was another woman. It helped me to separate myself from the situation long enough to finally get angry. Oh boy, did I get angry. I was furious, and it actually felt pretty great to just let myself go and yell and curse and kick stuff. It turns out processing divorce really does require you to go through all the stages of grief, and I was getting hung up on step 1 (Denial).
If you only know me from reading this blog, you might not know that I am a painfully shy and fiercely private person. I have no problem letting on that I'm happy, but allowing myself to feel and, certainly, to express anger/sadness/depression just isn't done. I believe that you can choose to be happy or not, and I choose to be happy. (Can you say Gemini?) Just slap on a smile, tell a joke, and wait for the shit to roll off your back. It usually works great, but it turns out that some stuff doesn't roll off, it just gets bottled up deep, deep down inside. Our divorce counselor (yeah, most couples go to counseling before one party decides to leave, and that's probably a better idea) gave me an assignment to contact at least one person every day, even if it was just to say hi. It was a challenge and I wasn't really able to do it every day (I just don't like to impose on people that much), but it was honestly REALLY good advice. It took a while for me to open up publicly, but I have been absolutely overwhelmed by the flood of love and support I've received since I started talking. One thing that I've learned through this process is that I have amazing friends and family members who have been waiting for me to open up to them; to ask for help or just tell them when I'm feeling blue. I don't think I would ever be able to do that last bit, but I don't need to. For the past couple months, I have genuinely been happier than I can remember being for a long time. Writing the blog as a public confessional has been pretty damn therapeutic for me. Tough, but therapeutic.
I guess what I'm trying to say is this: Don't keep too many secrets, especially from yourself. You are not alone. Don't feel guilty or ashamed. Let yourself get angry. Reach out to people. You don't have to pour out your soul, but call up a friend that you haven't seen for a long time and ask her out to lunch. Call up a different friend tomorrow. It will get easier. There will come a day when you wake up with nothing but joy in your heart. Embrace it. Confess the dark secrets and keep the delicious ones. I have a couple secrets that make me smile. Those are the ones worth holding on to, really.
Sorry for the downer post. Here's something lighter:
According to this ad from Facebook, there is but one startling secret preventing me from having millionaires begging (BEGGING!) to marry me. What's that you say? Just ONE startling secret stands between me and my lifelong dream of being a gold digger?! Oh wow. Just let me grab a pencil so I can take notes. Whew, the sarcasm is getting thick over here.
I'll end with this because I know the song is already stuck in your head. You are welcome.
About a month after he-whose-name-shall-not-be-spoken left me, a friend from high school posted an elegant, yet heartbreaking, status on Facebook announcing her separation/divorce. As soon as I read it, I sent her a private message thanking her for her bravery, as I was still trying to screw up the courage to make my own situation public. Today I was humbled to receive a private message that was virtually identical to the one I had sent a few months before. The sender told me that her husband had left and they were filing for divorce, and she thanked me for writing and sharing my experiences. As I wrote my reply, I started wondering: Why is it that we (women, in my experience, but probably the same for some men) feel we have to keep our separation a secret? I don't have the answers, just my own secrets to tell.
I sincerely enjoyed being a wife, and I thought I was pretty good at it. When my ex announced (pretty much out of the blue) that he didn't want to be married anymore, I felt like a failure. Shame crippled me for a long time. I felt I couldn't confide in anyone that knew both of us (like 120 mutual Facebook friends) because they would judge him or me, and I was still trying to protect him and the image I had of my perfect marriage. Honestly, it was a relief to find out that there was another woman. It helped me to separate myself from the situation long enough to finally get angry. Oh boy, did I get angry. I was furious, and it actually felt pretty great to just let myself go and yell and curse and kick stuff. It turns out processing divorce really does require you to go through all the stages of grief, and I was getting hung up on step 1 (Denial).
If you only know me from reading this blog, you might not know that I am a painfully shy and fiercely private person. I have no problem letting on that I'm happy, but allowing myself to feel and, certainly, to express anger/sadness/depression just isn't done. I believe that you can choose to be happy or not, and I choose to be happy. (Can you say Gemini?) Just slap on a smile, tell a joke, and wait for the shit to roll off your back. It usually works great, but it turns out that some stuff doesn't roll off, it just gets bottled up deep, deep down inside. Our divorce counselor (yeah, most couples go to counseling before one party decides to leave, and that's probably a better idea) gave me an assignment to contact at least one person every day, even if it was just to say hi. It was a challenge and I wasn't really able to do it every day (I just don't like to impose on people that much), but it was honestly REALLY good advice. It took a while for me to open up publicly, but I have been absolutely overwhelmed by the flood of love and support I've received since I started talking. One thing that I've learned through this process is that I have amazing friends and family members who have been waiting for me to open up to them; to ask for help or just tell them when I'm feeling blue. I don't think I would ever be able to do that last bit, but I don't need to. For the past couple months, I have genuinely been happier than I can remember being for a long time. Writing the blog as a public confessional has been pretty damn therapeutic for me. Tough, but therapeutic.
I guess what I'm trying to say is this: Don't keep too many secrets, especially from yourself. You are not alone. Don't feel guilty or ashamed. Let yourself get angry. Reach out to people. You don't have to pour out your soul, but call up a friend that you haven't seen for a long time and ask her out to lunch. Call up a different friend tomorrow. It will get easier. There will come a day when you wake up with nothing but joy in your heart. Embrace it. Confess the dark secrets and keep the delicious ones. I have a couple secrets that make me smile. Those are the ones worth holding on to, really.
Sorry for the downer post. Here's something lighter:
I'll end with this because I know the song is already stuck in your head. You are welcome.
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