Divorce needn’t be an ending, but a new beginning
The older woman showed sorrow in her face, and in her voice.
“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” she told me, tilting her head to one side.
Her reaction caught me off guard.
I tend to forget that the word “divorce” signals a negative connotation in our society, despite the fact that nearly one in two marriages end in divorce. Divorce is as common as death, with most people reacting to it the same way. They express condolence and sympathy and respectful mourning in the wake of a deceased relationship.
Although I always appreciate their kindness toward me — I’m twice divorced — I don’t react the same way toward others who are divorced. Especially if they’re not still in the foggy midst of a painful, unwanted divorce. I can politely tilt my head and express sorrow, too, when called for.
Otherwise, I typically congratulate people who are divorced, either for starting life anew, or for moving on to something more desired, or for being brave enough not to settle for an unhappy or unsatisfying marriage.
There are countless reasons to do so — infidelity, sadness, financial problems, trust issues, lack of appeal, loss of love, different paths as we age, you name it.
I also habitually congratulate those couples who’ve been together for 20, 30 or 50 years. That’s an incredible achievement in our culture. If they’re happy, content, and still value their graying, wrinkled relationship. If they are, then “Mazel!” to them, I say.
Next to child-rearing, giving birth and raising a healthy, successful relationship is the hardest task for adults, I believe. It takes effort, time, love, patience, trust, attraction, an attention to detail and so many other intangibles. This is why half of all marriages don’t survive the storm of daily life. It can be incredibly difficult.
It also can be incredibly difficult to pull the plug on a sickly relationship that’s obviously on its death bed. It’s so much easier to pretend it will come back to life, someday, or to simply shrug and settle for a marriage that’s in a coma, emotionally speaking.
I know many couples whose marriage has slowly eroded into a relationship of cohabitation. Nothing more. No romantic feelings. No genuine warmth. Just a spousal familiarity or financial security that’s comforting enough to get by.
I understand this scenario. I never wanted to live it, though, year after year, decade after decade. And I don’t want my loved ones to live this way, either. I’d be the first one to suggest they put their marriage out of its misery by first separating from each other, then examine their marriage.
Yes, even if they have children. I know how painful it can be to go through a divorce while having young children, as I did with my kids who are now 36 and 35. They didn’t understand everything at first. But they knew I loved them, and the divorce certainly wasn’t about them. They eventually came to the same conclusion I did — sometimes two people simply need to move on without each other.
This is why I typically react with an upbeat tone when someone tells me they’re divorced. I’m sure they get enough people expressing to them sadness or shock or disappointment or disdain. Not me.
“Good for you,” I tell them with a sincere smile. “I hope you find what you’re looking for. I know I did. It’s possible.”
In 2010, a reader emailed me, “Dear Jerry, I choked on my coffee when you mentioned your GIRLFRIEND, Karen! How could you get a divorce and not tell us?! I thought we were friends. Please explain. Sincerely, Jan Wozniak, Portage.”
Other readers asked me similar questions at that time. Facebook friends did, too.
Divorce touches so many of us. Everyone knows someone who’s divorced. It’s like a funeral that no one attends yet its wake still evokes deep emotions within us. It is still messy and painful for each couple, involving much more than legal paperwork, dividing assets and going in different directions.
A reader recently suggested that I write a column how relationship breakups are more than about the loss of only one couple. It’s also about the loss of “residual relationships,” she said, such as mutual friends, family relatives, current coworkers, and former in-laws.
“How does one navigate that?” she said. “Can you retain your relationship with your ex’s cool sister and her partner after the breakup? Can you still be Aunt Fran when he moves on to the new chick?”
These are pertinent questions with no paint-bynumber answers. Most breakups come with collateral damage to victims who had nothing to do with the dynamics of a divorce. And they remain caught in the crossfire between the former lovers, similar to the children who have no foxholes to hide in.
I usually don’t feel sorry for people who go through divorce. I do feel badly for their kids if it’s a meanspirited, messy, hurtful divorce that rarely considers their feelings. These kids are often trapped, like a wounded animal in a cage. Their parents are too spiteful or too stupid to recognize that the only remnant of their failed relationship is their children.
These divorced people carry around more emotional baggage than an airport conveyor belt. They just can’t … let … it … go.
And it’s their kids who circle ’round and ’round without anyone claiming them and their damaged feelings. This is the painful reality of too many divorces.
I blame the clueless or selfish parents, not the act of divorce. What was once considered “social suicide” or “superstitious dread” continues to dredge up outdated feelings of shame and stigma, even in 2020. I disagree with such reactions.
You can either go through “divorce with devastation” or “divorce with dignity.” Try to remain at least wedded to the second scenario. It’s a personal choice.
Last month, my son finalized his divorce with his ex-wife. What did I tell him? What else?
“Mazel!”