Posts Tagged ‘Divorce’

May 2013

It Stands Alone

Throughout the course of the very limited conversations we had about our marriage ending, my ex made it quite clear to me that our wedding was a mistake. If not a mistake, a distraction. While it makes sense that, in the end, it may have been an unnecessary use of resources, I have really wrestled with believing that it was an unnecessary use of my heart and an unnecessary reflection of the love I felt for and shared with my ex. To have it be such a fresh memory—seven months ago—only compounds the clashing feelings of joy and loss. I’ve just been trying to figure out how I truly feel about it all.

The biggest impediments to just pretending it never happened are the physical, tangible artifacts of the day itself. In my possession I have every note, every sample, every plan, and multiple copies of almost every component from my wedding day. I have photos, online and on hand. I have gifts from our registries and handmade things from my family and friends to celebrate our love. I have the cards, the soundtrack to our day, my ring. And every single love note or card my ex ever gave to me, including daily notes from the month before our wedding day.

I have the blanket one of my closest friends hand-knitted for us draped across my bed. The beautiful gold frame my brother gave us for Christmas, with a photo of my family at our wedding, sits on my windowsill, repurposed. The platters I had hoped to serve delicious meals on to our families on holidays and at special celebrations are tucked away in a closet. My wedding dress is balled up and shoved into a basket with copies of my wedding program, our guestbook, and the hand-calligraphy print our stationer made especially for us. I could throw all of these things into a giant fire pit and turn the memories of them into ash, but I don’t want to do that. Because they were given with love and with the intention of becoming part of memories. Good memories. And I deserve to keep them.

There are these memories of the process and the day to hold close to my heart, but there are also the archives of the connections I share with everyone there. Archives that continue to be filled, despite my marriage ending. To erase these images and these memories seems unnecessary. And to be honest, it seems mean.

My best friends in the whole world, by my side through everything.

My dear friend and incredible spiritual guide, Bishop David Flaherty, who wrote one of the most moving and personalized wedding ceremonies that could ever be written for two people he believed in without fail and without hesitation.

Katherine seeing me in my dress for the first time, her face reflecting the love she has held in her heart for me for twenty-eight-plus years.

Angela and me looking at each other adoringly, and then collapsing into a fit of giggles. This is not unique to the day, this is unique to us.

My brother and me, voguing in the driveway between photos. Continue reading It Stands Alone

Posted in: Marriage Equality, The Hard Stuff, Thoughts & Action | 45 Comments »

Apr 2013

Reclaiming Wife: Fifty Ways To Leave Your Lover (And Start Over Again)

Posts from APW moms are among my favorite (there is some wisdom there, y’all). But today’s post is extra special because it comes from my mom. My mother (who goes by Jennifer when it’s not me) often jokes that she doesn’t know where I learned about relationships, but that she thinks some of it might have to do with learning from her mistakes. But the reality is, what she calls mistakes actually look a lot like successes to me. Because if my mom has taught me anything about marriage and divorce, it’s that self-care is one of the most important things you can do for yourself and your relationship. And sometimes self-care looks like getting out of a relationship that isn’t making you happy and never will. As I get older, I’ve witnessed many friends stay in unhappy marriages out of fear. Fear of failure, fear of being alone, you name it. And it kills me. So for today, I asked her to write a post about leaving a marriage when it’s just not working. Because sometimes all it takes is knowing you can do something to give you the courage to go ahead and do it. And now I’ll give the floor to my mom, with some of the smartest words I’ve ever seen grace these pages. Not that I’m biased.

—Maddie

Starting over from scratch. No one sees this coming when they’re marching down the aisle—whether the aisle is church stone, beach sand, or hardwood in a local VFW club—till death do us part is embedded deep in our hearts on that wedding march, and in our partner who’s waiting at the end, face beaming at the thought of you growing old together and retiring to a porch swing, sipping fresh lemonade.

Fast forward to the day you’re sitting on a beach in Mexico on a “girl’s trip” realizing how short life is, and that death-do-us part is a really, really long time when you’re married to a guy who prefers watching ESPN over viewing any part of you…even when you’re rocking lingerie. Or a guy who isn’t who you thought he was when you said yes.

This was me at thirty-one years old. Life had recently taught me I controlled nothing. I learned I could attempt to protect everything in my life—my family, friends, relationships, and my heart—but bad things happen despite efforts to prevent them. That trip to Mexico was an escape. Everything about me was broken. I had just lost my nine-year-old daughter to brain cancer, and during the time she was sick, had gradually discovered that my husband didn’t have the emotional capacity to help my dying heart survive the process of losing her. He wasn’t cruel or apathetic. He just didn’t get it. The day before I left for Mexico, my friend and neighbor Ray died of a heart attack alone in a hotel on a business trip. I was devastated by his death, as much for losing him as for losing any belief that life would be there waiting for me to live again if I ever healed. I learned the hard way that life is too short. I knew then there were things I needed to think about. Big things.

So there I sat at thirty-one years old—five kids, a cat, two dogs, and a husband I needed to decide on. Sitting there on that white, sandy beach at 6:45am, while my intentionally childfree girlfriends slept till noon, I thought about things. A lot. On that beach—day four of thinking—I finally decided. It was over. I was indeed—done. I could not come up with one reason to stay with my husband that had anything to do with my own happiness or comfort, just those around me. My husband was a great guy, I thought no one would understand my choice. My kids would be crushed. My family might be disappointed in me. My financial stability would be suddenly unstable. People would talk.

On that beach, none of it mattered. I would always take care of my kids. My family would get over it. I could make my own money. And who gives a sh*t what people say. The final decision came down to a crude, possible future reality—some day I may not have teeth or control of my bladder. I may get sick. Really sick. Would I feel loved and cared for no matter what? I didn’t think I would. Would he cry with me and for me if I did get really sick? I didn’t think he would. I thought a lot about this in particular. I shouldn’t have had to. This was not how I was going to live the rest of my life. Continue reading Reclaiming Wife: Fifty Ways To Leave Your Lover (And Start Over Again)

Posted in: Manifestos, Reclaiming Wife, The Hard Stuff | 60 Comments »

Oct 2012

Fait Accompli

It’s never an easy thing when relationships break. But it can be that much harder to make sense of the experience when your marriage was never acknowledged by your government, your faith, or your community. So today Autumn is here, giving words to her experience, and hopefully, in doing so, reclaiming a little bit of power too.

Language is a funny thing. We all want to name both our joy and our pain. Words can bring us together or tear us apart. Ever since my elopement, I struggled with the word marriage, and what that meant to the union that my home church refused to bless and my government refused to acknowledge. Needless to say, when my partner walked out on our bold little family, I was even more confused about which words I could use, should use, or even wanted to use (although a few expletives definitely made the last list). I wasn’t feeling the c’est la vie philosophy that had so epitomized the last years of my life and my relationship. All I could hear were my Cajun grandmother’s favorite words… Fait accompli. Still French but a little different twist on life. The phrase fait accompli literally translates to an accomplished fact, but in my world, the meaning was more fatalistic. Growing up, things were fait accompli before they even started. My baby sister’s first attempt at gumbo… fait accompli, learning to ice skate in California… fait accompli, my same-sex outlawed union… fait accompli according to my loving well-meaning grandmother. My mama on the other hand called it a divorce. She also now refers to my former partner as “She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named”.

Even now, I still don’t know what to call what I lost or what I have now. Can you get divorced if you were never allowed to be legally married? Can I mourn being a wife if I never was one? Was I dumped like a teenager? Did I have a break up? I searched for words to define my situation; I searched for ways to find others who felt like me, but I couldn’t find any. Every word I tried on was like a bad wedding dress—everyone had an opinion. I began to realize that the narrow conservative definition of marriage steals power from all of us who don’t, can’t, or simply won’t fit its narrow definition. It robs us of more than rights and protections; it robs us of the power to claim both our joy and our pain without judgment from anyone. By its very nature, the end of a relationship can be a lonely thing, but quite literally—and because some people don’t believe in my love—I don’t even have the words to talk about the end of mine. If I must fight to claim “wife” and “marriage” when things are going well, how can I possibly find the strength to claim “ex-wife” and “divorce”? How can I fight the attitude that since I didn’t get married in a church, didn’t sign a legal document, didn’t file joint taxes, my relationship, and therefore its end, is somehow less significant? Continue reading Fait Accompli

Posted in: Marriage Equality, Reclaiming Wife, The Hard Stuff, Thoughts & Action | 26 Comments »

Sep 2012

When The Vows Aren’t True

This week we wanted to explore the idea of unexpected outcomes—some good, some difficult. In the end, what is wedding planning (and hell, marriage) other than one giant practice in letting go of the idea that we have perfect control? Today’s post from Jacki Souza about very young marriage, very early divorce, and figuring out who you really are is, for me, the most perfect sum-up that there is. This was the story of so many of my close friends growing up (our big burst of friend weddings came between nineteen and twenty-four). For me, the process of finding yourself, even through divorce and hardship, is always a story of great hope.

I cry at weddings. Start saying things like “For better or for worse… for as long as you both shall live,” and I need waterproof mascara.

Something about listening in as two people make a binding oath of love and loyalty in front of their family, friends, and deity just gets me, because it reminds me of just how beautiful I think the whole idea is—lifelong partnership. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder with your chosen mate through whatever life throws at you.

I didn’t cry at my wedding.

Instead, I cried the night before. My dad and I were making last-minute changes to the iTunes playlist I made for the reception, and I found myself squeezed into the chair next to him, weeping on his shoulder, unable to articulate the nagging doubts I felt about the next day’s events. How I had been doubting my decision for months. How I feared that my role in the marriage would be more parent than partner. How I was too ashamed of the failure and the wasted money and too afraid of starting over to back out. How I felt like, even though I hadn’t yet made the vows, hadn’t signed the license, it was already too late.

And I cried the night after. Alone in the honeymoon suite with my new husband, I unzipped my gown and began pulling hairpins from my elaborate updo, and as I watched them piling up, I began to cry. Because now it really was too late.

The planning was over; my distractions were gone. For months I had been focused on the party. I scored an Amsale sample sale gown that fit me perfectly for 50% off; I found the exact shade of green I wanted my bridesmaids to wear and negotiated discounts for them; I found a local florist who could recreate the Avi Adler bouquet I wanted using seasonal, affordable flowers. And all day I had been “on,” putting my party face on and executing the plan. But that night, I crumpled.

Back then I couldn’t have told you what “cultural narrative” was or identified how it was driving my decisions, but when I met the man I married, I was a nineteen-year-old sophomore at a small denominational university, and I already knew, by watching my friends, classmates, and the people I’d known my whole life, how my life was supposed to go: go to college, meet a good Christian guy, date exclusively throughout college, get engaged as an upperclassman, get married shortly after graduation, live happily ever after. (Throw in strong undertones of “if you don’t meet a good Christian spouse now, you probably never will” for good measure.)

My parents never pressured me to find a husband, and I know if I’d chosen to break my engagement they would have been my biggest supporters. (My mom broke an engagement, once, before marrying my dad—and their story deserves its own post!) But the message our church, my school, and my own low self-esteem were sending was, ”Snag a spouse while you’re here. It’s going to get really hard to find one once you leave.” Continue reading When The Vows Aren’t True

Posted in: Reclaiming Wife, The Hard Stuff | 65 Comments »

May 2012

Reclaiming Wife: Taking The Long Road

This week we’re talking about Changes. Specifically, how changes can be profoundly hard, but still not break you. Yesterday Tristan talked about changing his name to his wife’s, and Francie discussed the profound changes that can come during a wedding ceremony. Today, APW Editor Maddie asked her mom to be here to talk about her divorces. That’s right. Her multiple divorces (take that, taboos), and how she survived and in the end thrived. But, as all posts from mothers are (have you asked your mom to write an APW post yet?) this post is a big one. Huge, actually. It’s about a whole life, and it will make you cry (NSFW). Now, it’s my honor to give you Jennifer:

When my daughter Maddie asked me to write something about overcoming the loss of a fairy tale (I don’t think those were her exact words), I didn’t know where to start. I knew what she was looking for theoretically, but putting important experiences into words is her forte, not mine. Mine is just plain old perseverance. I make lists. I check things off the lists. It’s what I do. I even make lists for other people. Ask my husband; he loves lists. He always knows what I’m looking for based on his list. Nope, no mind reading or mixed messages in our house. Just lists. Now that I think of it, my wedding vows to him were a list: Top Ten Reasons to Marry John Brooks—presented in full color—Letterman style. A big hit.

Maddie taught me about lists. It was in the wake of getting dumped—again—by someone I really loved. I was sitting at my kitchen island crying with her sister Casey consoling me when she called. Her words would change my life and how I looked at everything. She asked me if I remembered the movie Runaway Bride. I said yes. She asked me if I remembered Julia Roberts’ character only eating the eggs her fiancés liked. I did. Her next few words set off a light bulb in my head—a bright one that still burns. “Mom, you need to decide what kind of eggs you like.”

Casey and I then started my list. We listed every attribute I was looking for in a partner—something I had never thought about in my 38 years. These are the attributes beyond attraction. These are the ones that make for a real live lifetime union, the ones that meet the in-sickness-and-in-health standards. I was so busy trying to fulfill everyone else’s criteria, I had never stopped to create my own. I had doomed myself to misery and lost fairy tales by not looking beyond nice teeth and a sense of humor. Brilliant work, Jennifer.

So, from here I will take what I have learned and share it with you in list form. It’s not the same as my other bulleted lists; it’s more of a numbered tutorial on survival. This is a list of what-ifs and what-to-do-ifs when the road to happiness gets rough…or turns into a Thelma and Louise kind of ride.

Keep on Truckin’: These are the only words I remember from my first wedding—a toast aimed at my groom, delivered by a large, bearded, biker-looking dude I had never met, and who I would have feared had I met him in a secluded area. Looking back, that toast would become my unspoken mantra, not my ex-husbands. For me, that first fairy tale (yes the first— I’m a slow learner) ended abruptly. It wasn’t good; waking up at age twenty-two and realizing you’re not a real princess, after finding out the night before that Charming cheated on you, makes for a real dream crusher. Throw in two baby girls and one on the way in weeks and your fairy tale dreams are not just ruined; you are in the dungeon alone with your kids and a fiery dragon named What the F*ck Do I Do Now. Moments like this tend to bring clarity. If the immediate moment fails you, as it did for me, plan a family outing to the social services office to apply for welfare. Here, your babies may be offered bubble gum by a very large, braless, toothless woman wearing jeans and a laundry-bag-mesh shirt. Wait… did I mention braless? Yeah. That brings clarity. This is where I learned I didn’t like Dependent Housewife Eggs. I liked College Education Eggs. So I got me some. Continue reading Reclaiming Wife: Taking The Long Road

Posted in: Reclaiming Wife, The Hard Stuff | 50 Comments »

Apr 2012

Wedding Redux: Facing Fears as a Second Time Bride

This week, we wanted to explore different perspectives on getting married. Yesterday, we discussed becoming a stepparent at a young age, and then we talked about finding out right after the wedding that you were having a baby (surprise!). So today, Dorie is here talking about the fears of being a second-time bride and the bravery it takes to jump into marriage, every single time.

I just hauled a bag full of marriage improvement, couple-oriented, self-help books in for trade credit at my local used bookstore.

That line makes me sound bitter, perhaps, or hopeless. One might think that I just now decided that my marriage was over, that I have just decided to file for divorce. The reality is, though, I have been divorced since 2007. Instead of dumping those books in preparation for a divorce, I am getting rid of the marriage advice books in preparation for my upcoming wedding.

My fiancé and I were the product of a whirlwind romance, courtesy of, well serendipity. A native East-Coaster, R. was in Arizona doing some consulting, and he had just reconnected with his old college roommate who lived in Phoenix. Said former roommate and I knew each other through volunteer work. One day R.’s former roommate said to me, “I’d like to introduce you to somebody. He’s here on a consulting gig and a little bored. I thought maybe you would want to play tour-guide.” We met, hit it off, I played tour guide, and then those outings became dates. I really liked him, but I wasn’t thinking (too much) about our future.

We had known each other for only about five months when my now-fiancé asked me, “When do you think we should maybe talk about talking about getting married?” Despite all the hedging in that question, I nearly fell off the sofa, thinking, “What? Get married? Talk about getting married? He’s crazy! What never-married, not quite 50-year-old says things like that after knowing somebody for five months?” Yet, instead of saying what I thought, I mumbled something about the fact that I would have to move and would not be able to find a job. Lack of job security, however, was not the real reason I did not want to talk about (talking about) getting married. The real reason was that, simply, I was afraid. I had done this once before, and even though our relationship felt right in ways the other one did not, I felt worried and fretful: What if it doesn’t work the second time around? Continue reading Wedding Redux: Facing Fears as a Second Time Bride

Posted in: Reclaiming Wife, Wedding Undergraduates | 23 Comments »