The one thing most divorced women can agree on is that we have a need to be heard. After all, there was so little of that going on in our marriages. We want our friends and family to let us know, in no uncertain terms, that they are there to listen to us while we come to terms with the fact that we have severed ties with our husbands, even if we repeat ourselves endlessly and cry a lot while we’re doing it.
We hunger for understanding the way some people hunger for the perfect burger; we want to get to the meaty center of it all. We want to feel sated and satisfied in knowing that when we ordered up a big new life for ourselves we could, at long last, find some peace of mind. Because in the end all we are really craving is one thing: closure on a bun.
We were about to take a major step towards solidifying this new found union, spending a weekend away, together in a hotel. M had a business trip coming up and invited me to attend a food show with him in Orlando. Normally the words food and show together would set my salivating glands in motion but all I could think about was lingerie. I guess it was in the middle of Victoria's Secret, rummaging through the 3 for 1 thongs (question: why bother wearing them?) when I thought of something that struck a wave of fear in me so intense, I almost dropped my panties: sharing a bathroom, more specifically, USING a bathroom with a man only three feet away.
I began to sweat profusely, table of thongs swimming before me. One thing you should know about me, during 25 years of marriage I used the bathroom at the other end of the house. I know couples who leave the bathroom door open during, uh, private time. I would rather run naked through Times Square. I lock the door, run the water, put on the fan and that's just for number 1. This was mind blowing to say the least.
Ok, ladies, be entertained by my latest research project for my new life: personal matchmakers. Here is what I have learned:
There are international, national and local private companies that do this. Prices vary dramatically and so do services. The best of these have the characteristics of a great girlfriend, "I met the perfect guy for you. You HAVE to meet him". She knows you and she knows him and even if you don't fall in love, you will like each other. This is supposed to be a far cry from online dating. The "bad" services are no better than online dating, they just cost a lot more.
I have thought about what I want in my immediate post-divorce life. One friend bought herself the full-length mink coat her husband refused to buy her when they were married; she used her settlement money to do this; scary to me, but its what she wanted. I have a small inheritance from my mother and dad and I was saving it, but I am thinking that my mom would tell me that this is the time to take care of myself and use it, so I might. And this is what I want.
“One less bell to answer. One less egg to fry. One less man to pick up after…and all I do is cry.” You may or may not remember these lyrics from a song recorded by The Fifth Dimension a million years ago, but whether or not you do, they sum up the feeling of being left and alone as well as any I can think of.
Sure it’s sad when your husband exits, stage left. Even though you couldn’t stand another minute of sharing airspace with him, it’s disconcerting to feel disconnected from the man you vowed to love forever. But the thought of not having to pick up after him anymore, fry an extra egg or answer his calls should bring you a modicum of relief right off the bat. And as days turn into weeks and months you will begin to feel good about yourself again. In fact you might even feel so happy, you’ll be ready pronounce yourself a Gay Divorcee and when this happens it will be a red letter day indeed!
One of the biggest myths of all is that divorcees and single mothers are seen as heroes. They've survived trials and tribulations, they took a stand, and they're making it on their own.
Heroes? In my book, yes. In the public eye? Oh, no, not at all, I'm afraid.
Divorcees are quickly perceived as women on the prowl. They're cougars. They're predators. They have no man, therefore, they must be on the hunt for one. And if they're not? Then they must be depressed, suicidal wash-ups barely hanging on.
Single mothers? Valiant crusaders raising children? I'm afraid not. Single mothers are usually pinned as bad mothers, because who in their right mind would rip children away from their fathers and feed kids Kraft Dinner when child support payments weren't forthcoming?
Well, I'll tell you who's in their right mind. Divorcees and single mothers, that's who.
These women have gone through life experiences that are challenges to their very self-worth and integrity. These women fight hard and fight back, sometimes even against themselves as they try to figure it all out.
It’s easy to get lost in a marriage, even when you know it’s not working anymore, because you just get in the habit of being married. I think Paul Simon had it right when he sang, “You’re just a habit, like saccharine” and when I heard this lyric the other day it really got me thinking. At the end, when I broke all ties and dropped my husband like the bad habit he was, I thought that would be that. But it seems old habits really do die hard and as I stop and think it over, I’ve come to realize that I’m habitually hanging on to several of them and I don’t like it one bit.
I’m still in the habit of feeling blue on gray days which I never did before I met him. And I’m still in the habit of planning an early exit strategy from parties which was his M.O. no matter the occasion. The difference now is that I am usually among the last to leave rather than the first, but it still bothers me that even the ghost of this tendency has somehow stuck to me.
I didn't get married until I was 38. It was my first and so far only marriage, and I kind of felt that I should have known what I was doing by then. You know, career first, marriage and kids, second. Stinky was 35, and it was his first marriage as well.
For two grown-ups we certainly managed to make a big old mess of things — so much for maturity with age.
Of course, in Northeast Louisiana, I found that most women who were my age had teenagers and some were already grandmothers. So, when I also became pregnant for the first time at 38, I was definitely considered an odd bird.
However, the advantages to marrying "late," so to speak, are many. If you've been alone, you've learned how to handle a car jack and can change a tire in under 30 minutes. If you've been alone for the first 15 years of your professional career, you've learned how to rent moving trucks, how to pack like a pro, and how to drive a 26-foot U-Haul van pulling your car behind it.
You have repaired a leaky faucet, unclogged a bathtub drain, and replaced various and sundry household fixtures and appliance parts. You've had to be self-sufficient.
