Tag Archives: Divorce

Don’t you think you deserve it?

An excellent post, aptly timed. This resonated with me as I know many people who struggle with similar issues. I was not one of them, however. The day my divorce was final, I jumped up and down in the halls of justice and hugged my lawyer lmao. On my way home, I played Sweet Justice by the phenomenal Ms. Jill Scott ;).

Listen: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bb2GBsLSMtA

Take Courage,

C.

One Sister's Rant

Happy New Year!
Image by Evan Leeson

A close friend called last night to tell me her divorce had been finalized.

Twenty three years of hardships and struggles had finally come to an end.

“I guess now I can tick the box that says single on my tax return” she said through her tears.

Hearing her sob on the other end, I felt confused.

During the two years it had taken for her divorce to become final, I had heard her talk about how unhappy she was, of how she felt like a prisoner in her home, how she wished she could break free.

Yet the day had arrived and she had welcomed it sobbing.

“What will I do now?” she wailed. “I feel utterly incomplete.”

For once, I was at a loss for words.

Should I tell her to host a party to declare her new state of independence, or should I…

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Things That Make You Go Hmm #5: A Dying Institution?

Ah well, I used to say I was a die hard romantic. Those days are no more. They died, well, hard. Ba dump bump. It’s a nice way to be but life has a way of stomping on one’s rose colored glasses, I’m just saying lol.

Ashton & Demi are splitting up. Color me, un-surprised, the odds were against them, or so I believe. Thanks to the ever zealous paparazzi, we all knew something was not quite right. Yes, that is the understatement of the year but I’m trying to be subtle.

I know I’m not the only one who watched their relationship unfold with great interest. After all, they were an anomaly. A sixteen year age difference tends to raise eyebrows, especially when the woman is the older of the two. The die hard romantic in me cheered them on with, yeah you know it, zeal. It’s a fantastic thing to break down barriers. Why can’t an older woman draw the undying love of younger man. It happens, rarely, but it happens. The niggling cynic that shares my space said, “Yeah, it may not matter now but how long will it take to matter?”  

Of course, I’m not suggesting that it’s the primary reason for their relationship failure. No one could know that except for them. I am referring to the fact that an age gap between partners that’s not a big deal when you’re in your 30’s is a great deal more problematic in your 40’s. People run around raving things like, “40 is the new 30.” It’s a lovely quip but in our youth dominated society, is it real? Assuming that the age old stereotype is untrue, age brings with it a waning of attractiveness (and Demi has done a helluva defying that), there are other factors at play which are undeniable.

1. There is no such thing as youth serum – say it isn’t so.

I experienced this personally in my late 20’s as my 40 something lover, over our five year haul, slooooowed down. I will leave it to you to fill in the boxes lol. That’s why the men got busy and invented Viagra.

Some nice folks will say sex is irrelevant and I will say they are full of crap. Intimacy is always important, although there are various ways of attaining it, sex remains, in my eyes, up there with the top three. Orgasmic pleasures aside, it brings you closer in way nothing else does, as any good therapist will tell you.

2. “Mind The Gap!”

And no, I’m not talking about the London Underground. So, you will not think that I spend all my time contemplating nocturnal pleasures, the other is mentation. Any honest, analytical person will tell you that there is a mental and experiential gap between decades. This becomes a primary factor in relationships in terms of communication, life path/objectives and likes/dislikes. That’s real and it’s a stumbling block that not many of us can get around. After all, commonalities run neck and neck with attraction in the relationship realm.

With those things in mind, I loved seeing the “Dashton’s” defy the odds and turn all our suppositions on its head but in the end it seems their very human failings trumped all else.

Which leads me to my next query, is it possible for anyone in Hollywood to stay married? I have to wonder. What is it? The lifestyle? The autonomy and financial independence which serves as an equalizer for both partners, negating the basic glue that holds the fabric of many relationships together? The constant groupies willing to throw their panties or briefs at a star? The life of decadence? Egos bigger than life whose demands can never be met? I don’t know but I would have to say that the odds, plus normal relationship issues, are stacked against them.

It seems to me, strictly from observation, that the Hollywood-ese change partners like a game show. Just look, Susan Sarandon and Tim divorced after 23 years. For god sakes, there is a website devoted to that very thing. It will always boggle my mind what one can find on the web.

So, what do you think? Is it just media hype? Are Hollywood stars more prone to relationship breakups than us mere mortals, or are they just victimized? Is marriage a dying institution and are we fighting against the inevitable?

Signed,

A Romantic Cynic

Sadness in Remission

So many things in this life hurt. From your first stumbling pains as a child learning to walk, skinning your knees, falling off your bike, to more grown up pains like the death of a friend or the loss of a child. I find that physical pains are transient, piercing for the moment and then gone. Wounds to the spirit are the most lasting pains one can feel. They burn with the eagerness of fire and make it difficult to go about the daily business of living. Yet, we live on. Pains which pierce the heart never seem to die though. They join the embers of previous pains which glow unattended in the graveyards of our spirit. Events, places, people, phrases, songs, or words, spark them back into life for brief, searing moments in time and then, thankfully, they settle down again to take their place amongst things best forgotten.

Divorce. Divorce was one of the most painful times in my life. The marriage was no picnic but it’s death was ever so much worse. It brought up all my insecurities and played upon my weaknesses like a skilled conductor. For that moment in time, I became a wicked person with no consideration for my loved one; a weak person who had failed to fulfill her promise to another; a failure with no progeny to show for my foray to the other side of the fence; a loser who could not sustain the American dream and all it’s false glissandos of happiness; a destroyer, tearing down the things that mattered most and a harridan, speaking in acid tongues of my displeasure that what was broken could not be fixed. There was no respite from my doubts and self-hatred.

I had to find myself again amidst the tears and ashes of what was and that was the hardest thing to do. By comparison, admitting that I was no longer in love was easy. Accepting that I had been betrayed and hurt was a role I knew so well already that it to was painless. Coming from a place of singledom one knows all about betrayal and hurt. Virtually, each relationship ends that way and so we move on to the next unquestioningly. Searching, I was always searching from 14 to 32 for one man, just one who would not betray me and would love me with his whole heart. Once married, I thought that I had finally found a place in which I could come to rest. Sadly, I married the wrong person and my subconscious who knew better than the faulty decisions of my waking self prodded me and poked me until I came to realize what was true – there would be no happy ever after for me, not this time.

The loss of this illusion and the catapult that threw me back into an arena of oneness was a heavy bludgeon that struck me unexpected. I felt a place shatter in my psyche and the cacophony of the noise, the unforeseen collision with reality caused me for endless days to cry unheeded any moment I was alone. Public bathrooms, morning bus rides, upon waking, just making it to the doorstep of my home only to be overwhelmed again by sadness – alone. I cried myself to sleep at night and spent the majority of the summer indoors, an alien in my home. I resolved to keep a journal and write about it everyday but I could not lay my sadness upon the purity of white.

I took my pain instead to God and I asked him to heal me. That prayer, was an act of despair because I did not know how to fix what was broken but I did not want to be broken, did not want to give up. I would not lose all that I had gained in the wake of one  bad decision and the false actions of a loved one. I could not lose my home, my finances, my career or my sanity. It took a car crash to wake me up from that place of darkness that had settled around me with the softness of a veil. I met with lawyers and fought with him and slept with a bat beside my bed and cut back on all the things I used to do and found new things to do, new loves to hold. Long drives in the sunlight, music, new music, more music, gardening, sporadic outpouring of words and long conversations with friends were a boon to my lost spirit. I learned to sit in silence and love the sound of my thoughts undiluted by should haves, would haves and musts. I came to know that I had done the right thing, I was just woefully unprepared to deal with the aftermath. 210 days later, sadness in remission, I knew that He had answered my prayer.  Where all before was ashes, I could now see the Phoenix I had become. By moving forward on blind faith and simply understanding that where I was not where I wanted to be. I had moved to a whole and stronger version of myself with a better understanding of who I am and what is required for my happiness. I still feel bad sometimes and the wound is still tender but it closed and I am free. Free to discover a future that is more fulfilling and a better reflection of me.

Still, I know what few around me do, that the death of my marriage was one of the most difficult trials of my life but I lived through it and today, partly because of it, and in spite of it, I blossom…