If someone had told me five years ago that I would ever be grateful for my tsunami divorce, I would have thought they were ignorant. Or cruel. Or, at the very least, utterly clueless and insensitive.
But, you know what?
They would have been right.
My divorce was a doozy: 16 years of what-I-thought-was wedded bliss suddenly amputated with a single text message. This was followed by the discovery of marital fraud and felony bigamy. In one instant, the life I had was gone and it was stolen by the man who had lovingly kissed me goodnight for my entire adult life.