Here’s another collection of interesting articles I’ve come across. The (rather loose) theme for today is science; all of these have at least some basis in research. I’ll let you form your own opinions about the conclusions:)
First, from one of my favorite magazines, Mental Floss summarizes 11 interesting facts gathered from a variety of studies about online dating. I’ve gotta say, #6 shocks me. What’s the point of signing up then? 11 Results From Studies About Online Dating
Here are some recent conclusions about risk factors for divorce. According to the short list on the top, don’t ever marry a teacher! Hopefully, the other factors will help balance out my earning power:) New Prediction Factors For Divorce
It seems that we like to quantify divorce; perhaps it brings some semblance of control over a difficult situation. The first one on this list surprises me; I certainly don’t fall into that category! The Science of Separating: Five Shocking Truths About Divorce
And from the other side of the aisle, here is some research from the good people at The Gottman Institute about what makes love last. Why Does Love Last For Some and Not Others?
I hate the way the financial betrayal has impacted my relationship with money. It has taken what used to be a healthy respect and responsible frugality and twisted it into something shame-tinged and focused on avoiding scarcity. It has made money a focus for me in a way I despise. I feel like a starving person at a buffet. I want to pile it all on my plate, but I’m afraid to take a bite in case it makes me sick.
And I hate it.
After being robbed behind my stupidly naive and trusting back, I now obsessively controlling my own funds. I breathe a little easier when my credit score rises a point (happy dance time!), my student loan balance decreases or when I sock away another few hundred towards the car I’ll need soon (not too soon, please!!!).
I am always careful to make sure that I can survive on my own if I should have to (smart) and yet I don’t relax into the financial reality I have with my husband (not too smart). I don’t spend money I don’t have (smart), but I also don’t spend money that I have and should (not so smart says my feet in too-old running shoes).
And the dumbest thing? The part I really beat my head against the wall about? After my ex’s financial secrecy, you would think I would want it all laid out (that would be smart). But I have trouble talking about it (dumb, dumb, dumb). My now-husband has none of the tuck-it-under-the-covers approach that my ex perfected (thank goodness!) and so there’s nothing hidden to uncover. Yet, when he innocuously brings up something about money, my stomach still does a little somersault. Just a baby one. But a tumble nonetheless.
And when I have to bring it up? I think I get a cartwheel.
And the really crazy thing?
I’m talking about zero-stress (at least on his part), no conflict discussions.
For example…
We usually split most home renovation/repair costs on a percentage split based upon relative income. Sometimes he picks up a little more if I happen to be strapped at that point. And he does this without comment or complaint.
This season, adding some landscaping is in the plans. As I started stalking nurseries (NOT the kind that house children!) and making lists, he said more than once, “Just tell me how much you need.”
A side note here, I promise not to turn this blog into a gardening forum. But you will probably be subjected to some (okay, maybe more than some) plant pictures and, knowing me, some far-out gardening analogies that I somehow manage to relate to relationships.
And I figured out last weekend about how much I would need. And I felt like it was too much. So I worried it around in my head until tonight, when I finally asked him.
His response? “Sure. When do you need it?”
He has a much more balanced relationship with money than I do. Obviously.
And I’m working on it. My little monthly Birchbox is a baby step. The first of many.
Our good friend just left here with our tax info (it’s awesome to have a friend who is also an accountant). We talked for a while about money and its entanglement with our psyche.
And he reminded me about the importance of a mindset of abundance.
I have that image in my mind for my garden. Maybe it’s time to allow that image to spread.
Whether it was your first heart-break in middle school, your first big misunderstanding with the one you thought-was-the-one or reality moving in along with your partner, at some point you learned that relationships aren’t easy.
That staying together requires a lot more effort than getting together.
And that relationships are a challenge no matter what the circumstances.
So what is it that makes relationships so hard?
Vulnerability
Most of us walk around like an M&M, safely tucked inside a hard shell that is resistant to melting. Yet, melt is exactly what we must do if we want to establish an intimate connection. And it’s scary to reveal yourself in all your inner glory; you risk wounding or even worse, rejection. Maintaining vulnerability is a continual task. It takes sustained effort and intention to refrain from becoming closed off.
Ego
The best relationships are when both partners aren’t afraid to call the other out on their sh*t and when each is willing to listen. A relationship won’t make it far if you think you have nothing to learn. It’s not easy to lay down your defenses and admit your wrongdoings. It’s difficult to apologize and release the ego. It’s even harder to utter, “You’re right” and be happy saying it because it means you learned something.
Control
One of the most humbling realizations in any relationship is that your partner is an individual, with his or her own free will. Unlike those thousands of (mostly young and always naive) Twitter followers that declare, “I don’t believe in divorce. You mad? Go to the other room and we’re going to talk this out.” Because the truth is, apart from kidnapping, your partner may not want to go to the other room and talk it out. Relationships require that you share a life while accepting that you also live separate lives. Not an easy balance.
Baggage
We all carry wounds and patterns from the past into our relationships. Whether you were the peacemaking middle child in your family and now you try to avoid conflict in your marriage or you experienced infidelity and now you have trouble trusting, your past experiences shape your current situation. If those issues aren’t addressed and tamed, they will choke out the relationship with their tenacity. It’s difficult to face these problems; often we would rather pretend they are absent or inconsequential. It takes courage to unpack your past.
Expectations
We all have expectations of what relationships look like. We grew up watching marriages play out on television and watched our parents’ marriage evolve (or devolve) in front of our eyes. We often makes assumptions that our partners have the same expectations for marriage without taking the time to ask and find out (After all, what if they have a different image? That’s a scary reality to face.). When different expectations collide, the fallout can be devastating.
Acceptance
In the beginning, your partner was probably on a pedestal only because you didn’t know any better. Then at some point, you learned that this one wasn’t perfect either. In fact, you realized that he or she had all kinds of quirks and irritating traits. But you know what? You do too. And a successful relationship means accepting the messy, imperfect and often infuriating humanness of your partner. Without rubbing their noses in it.
Adaptation
Relationships are not stagnant. Just when you finally learn how to talk with your partner about money without falling into a blame/defensive pattern, something changes. And then you have to change in kind. There is no status quo. It takes energy and effort to grow. And the most difficult reality you may find you have to adapt to is that your relationship may not have staying power. And the lessons learned from one relationship may be applied in the next.
Yes, relationships are challenging.
And it is that challenge that also makes them so wonderful.
It’s always nice when someone offers to carry our bags for us. There’s a relief that comes from shifting that burden; a sense of freedom when the weight is lifted. But when it comes to relationships, your baggage is your problem. Whether you have residual anger that flares when provoked, fear of betrayal or abandonment or irrational overreactions from triggers buried in your past, it is up to you to address them.
No Pining Allowed
It’s natural to miss your ex at times. Perhaps they had traits your new partner lacks or maybe you shared a different connection. Watch those thoughts. If you are yearning for your past, you will miss your present. Whatever was is over. Be where you are.
You Must Perfect the Art of Compromise
Marriages that occur later in life can be more complicated, as two full and separate worlds come together. Each partner may be less flexible and more set on his or her ways than in a first marriage. If you want to share your life with someone, you will have to adapt. You will have to let go in order to let in.
Vulnerability and Intimacy May Be a Struggle
Both of you have probably been wounded. Perhaps deeply. Once you have been hurt, it’s tempting to build ramparts to ensure that you are never attacked again. But a marriage requires vulnerability to survive. In a second marriage, it can be an ongoing struggle to trust enough to open up. The effort is worth it.
Your Spouse is Your Partner, Not Your Savior
It’s easy to project the “white knight” persona onto the person that helps us see love and light again. It’s important to remember, however, that your spouse can’t save you. They can only hold your hand while you save yourself. And that can make your second marriage even better.
My divorce certainly did not present itself as a gift, trussed up with a big red bow like a Lexus in a Christmas commercial. Instead, it was a big ugly box, filled to the brim with explosives. It was a present I never anticipated and one I never desired. But, as it came with a “no return” policy, I was determined to make the best of it. From Rewrapping Divorce As a Gift
When you are facing down the bullet train of a divorce you never wanted and cannot seem to halt, all you can think about is the devastation of losing your marriage. Your partner. Your best friend. The pain is unimaginable and a future without your spouse feels impossible.
I know. I’ve been there.
And I’ve also made it through.
Now, over five years out, I can say that my tsunami divorce was the worst thing to ever happen to me.
And also the best.
Sometimes you have to lose what you wanted.
To get what you need.
And sometimes you have to decide you want to feel better.
More than you want to hold onto the past.
Let Go of the Marriage You Thought You Had
You didn’t have a good marriage.
Maybe you thought you did. Maybe you still do.
But the truth is that it wasn’t the marriage you thought you had. Because if it was good, it would not be ending.
I had the hardest time accepting that truth. From my perspective, my marriage was great. And sometimes, when I think back at the wonderful moments we shared, I still do. I was happy. I had a good marriage.
But he didn’t. And it wasn’t.
In some ways, that realization was freeing. The divorce wasn’t the end of something good. It was the end of something broken. Even if I didn’t see the cracks.
You didn’t have the marriage you thought you had. It’s time to let it go.
I know his name. His face. His birthday. His social security number. His family. Yet I still do not know who he is. However, I can tell you who he was. He was my best friend. My lover. My confidant. He was the man who built a toy chest for our friend’s son’s birthday. He was the man whose scent instantly calmed me and whose arms held me like they were molded from my frame. He was a voracious reader and he devoured science fiction and fantasy novels. His favorite series was The Dark Tower, by Stephen King. He hated tomatoes and loved Sweetwater IPA. He preferred dark clothes and refused to wear V-necks. He wore his watch on his right wrist, the face to the inside of his arm. He was the man who patiently built me an office and then rebuilt it for me when I grew weary of the desk where I spent hours writing papers. He was a quick learner, but a poor student in school. He was a fan of Apple, Banana Republic, and Alice in Chains. He was never athletic due to bad knees, although he started to work out once the pounds encroached with age. He was the man who stayed up all night for a week with our third puppy who came to us with kennel cough. He was so confident that I would win Teacher of the Year, that he ordered flowers before the votes were announced. He was the man I turned to for advice and comfort. He was my everything.
He was all of these things, yet he was also the man who left his wife of ten years with a text message. He was the man who hid debts and stole money from accounts. He was the man who wooed an innocent woman, told her nothing but lies, and married her although he was already wed. He was the man that locked the dogs in the basement and drove off, not knowing that they would survive. From Who Is He?
It’s Okay to Grieve. And It’s Okay to Move On.
An unwanted divorce is an enormous loss. You are losing the image you had of your spouse and your marriage. You are losing your present life. And you are even losing your hopes and dreams for the future. It touches every area of your life.
It’s okay to mourn the loss of what was and what would be.
I spent hours keening in my room, my pillow muffling my cries so that couldn’t be heard. I ran hundreds of miles with tears streaming down my cheeks, blurring the path in front of me. I would pick up the phone, just wanting to hear his voice, before I would remember that it wasn’t mine to hear anymore.
And I also made strides to begin my new life. I wrote and posted goals for the year. I made new friends and tried new things. I dreamed about what I wanted for my next chapter and started taking baby steps towards those aspirations.
By all means, grieve.
And also live.
I would have moments, even days, where the suffering was unseen. But its absence was always short-lived and my brain had a trigger-finger that would herald its return at the slightest provocation. My body held the memories like the discs in a juke-box, ready to play with the touch of a button. As long as I didn’t approach, I was okay. But as soon as I recounted the tale, my voice would tremble and the pain would come rushing back as though it had been lying in wait.
And so I kept telling the story. And with each retelling, the heartache faded a little more. And the suffering grew weaker. My once constant companion became like a distant friend – we may keep in touch on Facebook, but we have no real need for face to face. From The Evolution of Suffering
Don’t Sign Away Your Right to Happiness
It’s funny. In a divorce, people will fight over the house. The retirement. The cars. But they often forget to fight for what really matters.
Your own well-being.
Be too stubborn to allow your ex to control your happiness. They may have ended the marriage, but they didn’t end you.
My early inroads to happiness were initiated out of spite. I went to a party at the lake soon after the text, mentally saying, “I’ll show him that I can still laugh.” I accepted a date, thinking “I’ll show him that I’m still desirable.” I went hiking on “our” favorite trail, muttering “You can’t take this from me” with every step.
In time, my spite faded, but my tenacity did not.
I was more determined than ever to live a good life. To show that I am stronger than what happened to me.
If you can’t because of, smile in spite of.
I began to realize that by telling him that he made me happy, I was putting all of the responsibility for my own well-being on his shoulders. That is a huge burden to carry and one that was unfair to him. I had given him the power to make me happy. Which means he also had the power to make me unhappy.
If I had left that power in his hands, he would have packed up my happiness with the rest of his belongings when he walked out the door. I snatched it back from him, determined to find a way to regain ownership of my well-being. From You Make Me Happy
Just Because You Can’t Picture It, Doesn’t Mean You Can’t Create It
It’s difficult to imagine things that we have not experienced. It is one of the reasons that we fear loss more than we value gain. And when you’re trying to picture a life without your spouse after an unwanted divorce? The brain simply seizes, locking in on what is missing.
Your brain is only telling you part of the story. Yes, there is loss. And there is also possibility.
In the beginning, all I could think about was that I wanted what I had had. Then I realized I could create something even better.
It’s hard in the beginning to think about your future, unbound by the marriage you thought you would have forever. We tend to limit our thoughts and, in turn, ourselves.
The ending may have been unwanted. Now create a life you want.
Bloom where you’re planted.
Everything’s going to be okay.
That was my mantra for that first, awful post-divorce year.
Everything’s going to be okay.
I would repeat those words in my head as I lay sleepless every night.
Everything’s going to be okay.
My friends and family would offer those words as comfort, reminding me that the “now” was not the always.
Everything’s going to be okay.
I imagined some future where he would face consequences and I would be relieved of mine.
Everything’s going to be okay.
Sometimes, I railed against that platitude, uncertain how anything could ever be okay again.
Everything’s going to be okay.
But still, I held onto those words like a life raft, wanting to be pulled free from the pain.
Everything’s going to be okay.
Those words were my Xanax against the panic, the overwhelming fear of unwanted change.
Everything’s going to be okay.
One day I realized that it really was okay. Maybe it wasn’t the okay I imagined, but it was okay nonetheless. From Everything’s Going to Be Okay
Different Can Be Good. Or Even Better.
Yes, it is hard adapting to life after an unwelcome divorce. You are forced to change when you were happy with the status quo. It’s not fair. Life rarely is.
You can’t go back. But you can always move on.
And one day you just might find that you’re happy that your life didn’t go as planned.
I know I am.
So now here I am. Open and bleeding. No walls, no buried head. I need to learn to be here, to stay vulnerable, without allowing myself to panic and either hide or grasp too tightly. It’s not easy. It doesn’t feel safe.
I want reassurances. Promises. But the truth? That’s only a bandaid. I need to relax and breathe through my fear. I know I’ll be okay, I just need to do a better job of convincing myself. After all, the only true abandonment is when we abandon our true selves. And that’s one I can control. From Vulnerable
Here’s my personal message to those in acute divorce pain. In it, I give some strategies for moving on when all you want is for everything to be the way it was.
Lessons From the End of a Marriage 