Endings
in which I utilize all the analogies to unpack the finalization of my divorce
Well, I did it. Crossed the finish line. Haven’t gotten my medal yet. That will be when the judge stamps our decree, I guess. But I signed my divorce papers.
626 days. That is how long it took from moving out and filing the petition to a final, signed Marital Settlement Agreement.
I texted a few friends upon completion. Many people wanted to know what I wanted to do to celebrate. And while I was happy the divorce process was over, celebration wasn’t exactly the mood I was in.
Yes, I am glad I will no longer dedicate hours to fighting for what is rightfully mine. To find myself face to face with the one person I never wanted to have to compromise with again.
I am relieved. But mainly I am tired.
If we continue with the metaphor of divorce as a marathon, I want you to think about what a marathoner needs after finishing that run. (I don’t actually know. I have never run more than 3 miles. I am not a marathoner, so bear with me as I utilize this metaphor). They need a blanket wrapped around their shoulders. They need an ice bath. They need a healthy meal, probably some electrolytes. They need a massage. They need rest. Lots and lots of rest.
What I am saying is upon the finalization of my divorce, I don’t need shots, or a rebound boyfriend, or a trip to Jamaica (though I’ll take that trip if you offer it). I need care. I need tenderness. I’ve just been through a battle and though I feel like I’ve won, I also have some wounds that won’t heal themselves.
I’m not good at being tender with myself. I’m good at soldiering on, bulldozing through, continuing to accomplish, do, become, work! It would be really easy for me to brush past this moment and pretend like everything is okay. Phew! Got through that! Check! What’s next on my list?
Even as I walked out of that conference room with a hug for my lawyer, a handshake for his, and a fist bump to my ex, I could feel other feelings poking through. Uh oh, I thought. It made me a little uncomfortable. But almost immediately after, I felt sadness. A feeling that felt very much like grief.
When you decide to leave a marriage, you have to keep moving and not look back. You have to stay focused on the finish line, which is actual divorce, the legal extraction from your ex, and the road is long and not for the faint of heart. I wasn’t sad much during this time. I was not grieving because the marriage still wasn’t dead.
I remember seeing posts on Instagram about the grief of divorce and that no one talks about it. And I was like what grief? The energy it takes to leave a marriage is so momentous that you can ride it for a very long time. Like the biggest wave, you catch it and it's glorious and you feel terrified but also free and then you somehow stay standing even though every moment you feel like you might topple. When you make it all the way to shore, you jump off your board, and you look around you. Now what?
Of course now what is what I’ve been waiting for. The chance to start the rest of my life.
But I guess maybe what I’m doing now is turning back to the horizon. Looking at how far I’ve come. Remembering that there is no going back, even though I don’t want to. This is also a moment of goodbye. Goodbye to what was. Goodbye to what we’d hoped for. Goodbye to that chapter which is now, officially, over.
Again, I am not sad that I left or that it ended. Dear God, this was the right path. But I am sad for what we hoped for, for what we wanted, that we had to admit was never going to happen. I am sad that that family is dead and buried and we’ve had to craft a new one in its wake.
In a strange scene from that conference room, there was some lag time as we finalized the contract and made revisions in real time and copies had to be printed and thus our lawyers were talking. Interestingly, they were talking about religion, about the pros and cons of raising children with a formal religion (namely Catholicism) versus having to answer all kids’ existential questions on your own. I couldn’t help but insert my own thoughts into the discussion as I initialed the bottom of each page of the MSA. And I knew my ex agreed with me. We’ve always seen eye to eye on the destructiveness of formal religion and we are still aligned in that way. So here we were, on opposite sides of the conference room table, and yet, for this brief moment in this discussion, we were on the same side. We exchanged a look that spoke volumes, one of countless we’ve exchanged over the years. And I had this moment of oh yeah. See we did fit, in many ways. There were so many years where we felt seen, understood. There was good here, too, even in all the bad that was to come.
It was a strange thing to be feeling in the midst of signing divorce papers. But it also felt right. Like, yes, he has become an adversary while we negotiated this agreement. But hopefully now that it is done, we will have more moments like this one. Where we remember how we are/were/will be aligned.
I don’t know. All I know is it was an interesting way to finalize a divorce.
I’m glad to be literally turning over a new page. This newsletter turns three next month. It has come a long way. I started it to interrogate the institution of motherhood. Then I began to explore marriage as I strained at the tethers of wifedom. Then, as I left marriage behind, I unpacked the intricacies of divorce.
So in the fourth year, I hope to move in some new directions, but the themes will remain the same. I’ll keep posting The Divorce Diaries (and will share my full divorce experience soon!). I’ll continue to unpack how we can make room for ourselves in a world that seems to still want to keep women small (and at home raising babies). Whether there is hope for the institution of marriage, or whether it truly is on its last legs. How we can heal, how we can feel, how we can prioritize ourselves when everyone seems to think women (especially mothers) should come last.
For those of you who have been with me from its start, thank you. For those who have just joined me, I’m so glad you’re here. I’m not done talking about divorce, but I do have new directions. And I’m so excited to see where they take me.
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What did you do to commemorate the end of your marriage? I’m interested in rituals, parties, gifts you gave yourself, tattoos, trips.
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Congrats Cindy! I just signed my papers after our first mediation a month ago and I sobbed afterwards in the car, even though I got everything I wanted, it’s a sad, clinical, legal way to end a partnership. I wrote about it too. I’m still resting;) Be gentle with yourself❤️
Congrats for getting to the finish line. I found a therapist and got a tattoo celebrating that I found myself back after losing much of myself in my marriage after my divorce. It’s been quite a process to unpack everything.