6 Letters to Write After Divorce

Posted on by stilllearning2b
letters divorce

Some people get a “good” break-up. They get transparency, conversation, empathy and some form of closure.

But the rest of us?

We get abandonment, betrayal, deceptions and any hope of a conclusion has to come without the cooperation of the other party. Or perhaps our ex is present but insists on shifting the blame and responding in anger, instead of telling you what you need to move on. And even if you had a “good” divorce, there still may be things left unsaid that are holding you back.

I spent many months thinking I needed something from him – an explanation, an apology, even an argument would have been preferable to radio silence.

Eventually, I tired of waiting on him. So I took matters into my own hands, picked up a pen and held the conversation myself.

Over the next several months, I wrote six letters – three to him, two to me and one “from” him. I never sent any of them, although I have published a few in an edited form. The letters were never about him. They were about allowing me the conversation, the explanation and the apology I never received. And even though the words all came from within, the release was as real as I could get without him taking part in the dialog.

Writing these letters may feel strange; they’re more about feeling and less about thinking. Writing these letters may be painful; they force you to address issues you’d probably rather politely decline. And writing these letters is freeing; when you write it, you can change the narrative in your mind and create your happy ending.

From: Present Self
To: Self Before Break-Up

Purpose: This letter’s purpose is multifold – it helps to alleviate any guilt you may feel at how things ended, it allows you to explore any lessons found in the past and it acts a cheerleader to help keep you going through the dark days post divorce. If you are six months or more post break-up, you can also write a letter to your self that was in the early days after the end of the relationship; it helps to s=build compassion for yourself and illustrates how far you’ve come.

 

From: Present Self
To: Ex

Purpose: Of all of the letters, this is probably the most frequently written. I know for me, they (yes, there was more than one!) practically demanded to be typed out, fingers slamming the keyboard in anger. This is the letter where you say all of the things you wish you could/had to your ex with no concern of repercussion. Don’t censor yourself; write what comes. This is not a letter meant to be shared, rather it is a good candidate for the purification of fire.

From: Present Self
To: Ex

Purpose: This one’s a doozy; it requires that you flip all of your current thoughts on their head. You’re addressing your ex again, but this time in gratitude rather than in anger. I call this radical gratitude, where you express your appreciation for the person and situation that hurt you the most. Unlike the previous letter, this one actually benefits from seeing the light of day – not by being sent, but by being posted in an area where you can be reminded each day of the gifts hidden beneath.

Continue to read the rest.

 

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I Screwed Up

Posted on by stilllearning2b

One of the traits I most admire in my now-husband is his willingness to admit when he screws something up.

I shared this image with him a few months back:

foolish

His response? “I must be brilliant then because I always look foolish.”

Which he doesn’t. But he also doesn’t try to hide it when he does.

And I’m learning from him.

 

Some screw-ups don’t bother me. If I make a mistake at the board while teaching, I reward the student who catches it with candy. When my typos are uncovered, I’m thankful for the free editing. I share some of my own failures at skiing and biking and running and math with my students to encourage them to be willing to take risks and learn from their mistakes.

But those mistakes don’t harm anyone. They don’t make anyone disappointed in me. (At least I hope you’re not too disappointed in me for my typos. If you are, I’m sorry! I’m trying to wear my contacts more when I write and to wait at least until the first cup of coffee hits.)

Those are the threatening screw-ups. The ones I have trouble facing.

Because the impact could be threatening and the fallout immense.

But the reality is that everyone screws up and that the way you handle your errors says more about your character than any mistake ever could. Part of my ex’s destruction came from hiding his mistakes rather than coming clean.

 

So I’m learning. When I screwed up the other night just as my husband was coming home from a weekend away, my excitement at seeing him turned to dread at his response to my carelessness.

And the best part about a guy that admits his own mistakes? He accepts them in others. He immediately dismissed my confession and apology, engulfed me in his arms and said, “It’s great to be home.”

We are not our screw-ups.

We are how we respond.

 

In order to become wise, one has to first be willing to look foolish.

Be willing to take responsibility for your mistake.

Be willing to risk anger or disappointment.

Be willing to separate your worth from your error.

Be willing to ask for help.

And then be willing to learn.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Waiting for the Other Shoe

Posted on by stilllearning2b

The hardest part about the way my marriage ended is trying to live without always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I mean, things are great now. Really great.

But things were great before.

Sometimes I wish that my ex had been a jerk to me. I hear about these spouses that put on a good show in public and then belittle and guilt-trip their partners behind closed doors. I read about growing tension in discussions and growing distance in the bedroom. I see couples at dinner barely containing their contempt for each other and eyeing the door for escape. Whenever I used to see or hear about those behaviors, I grew ever more grateful for my husband, who was always gentle, generous, patient and attentive towards me.

But now I feel otherwise.

Because while I was happily wrapped in his arms, he was sliding the blade of betrayal through my ribs. Between intimate conversations, he was spreading horrific tales about me to others. And apparently the attention turned towards me only lasted as long as I was in the room.

If he had been a jerk to me, it would be so much easier now. I would know what to avoid and what warned of a problem. But a covert jerk is difficult to spot.

And that’s what makes me wary about that other shoe.

My rational brain works to calm me. Brock is not my ex. He is direct and faces problems head-on instead of trying to tuck them away. He is naturally loyal and reviles deception. I grow closer to him every day and can now, with certainty, say that I trust him. Plus, he knows if he screwed me over, I’d have to write about it:)

Apart from him, I now trust myself to recognize similar patterns or behaviors that may hint at trouble brewing beneath the surface. I will never be so naive again.

But the rational brain isn’t always the one holding the reigns. And my emotional self keeps looking up, ready to dodge the flying boot.

 

 

 

Roadmap to Healing After Divorce

Posted on by stilllearning2b

healing map linear

 

healing map nonlinear

 

A. Your world collapses. You do do too. You feel like you’re coming undone at the seams and ever being okay again seems impossible.

B. Little by little, you start to make some improvement despite yourself. Maybe you go a few hours without crying. Perhaps you sign up for a class or start to exercise in an attempt to regain some control and to better yourself.

C. All of sudden, you feel invincible. Giddy, even. You feel as though you lost the dead weight and now you can fly. Maybe you feel a spark with someone and it ignites something within you. Perhaps you’ve conquered the legal divorce and it’s given you confidence.

D. This fall feels even worse than the first. It makes you question if you will ever really be better. If your spark is extinguished, you may find the secondary pain even worse than the initial trauma. This plummet may come when the honeymoon period after divorce expires. Regardless of when it hits, it feels hopeless.

E. You plateau for a time. The baby steps forward are so small, you don’t even notice that you’re starting to make incremental progress. This is when you’re building your roots; the progress may not show on the surface, but you’re doing the deep work that allows future growth.

F. You start to climb again. This one feels different than before. Where the first improvement was spurred by outside forces,  this one comes from within. It’s not an express lane to the top, but you sense traction on this climb. It may be slow, but it’s steady.

G. This is often the frustrating period. You’re making progress within the big picture, but the periodic slides backward keep you distracted from your gains. This is where the traps lie. And you have to disarm them to escape them.

H. Healing reaches a critical mass and begins to happen faster. Good days accrue into good weeks and even great months. You gain perspective, looking back and seeing where you have been. You’re surprised to realize that you’re even better than before.

The struggle has made you strong. The suffering has made you grateful. The journey has made you wise. And the fall has made you humble.

 

photo-64

 

Here’s my timeline from healing after divorce. Caution: results may vary:)

The Little Things

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I had to smile when I reached the realization.

Brock and I were couch-locked, tucked under blankets in front of a roaring fire built to chase away the cold. The movie we selected began with some screen text to set the scene. Without hesitation, Brock started to read the words to me. Not because I’m illiterate, but because I’m pretty much blind. He always reads distant (I’m useless with street signs) or movie text to me without my having to ask.

A half hour later, my lips were starting to lose their protective coating of beeswax. “Where’s the emergency chapstick?” I asked. He picked up the extra tube from the end table and passed it over to me. Within weeks of starting to date, he had emergency chapstick stashed in his car and around his house. I can get pretty panicky when I can’t locate lip balm.

After the movie ended, I retired to bed (I’m pitiful) while Brock stayed downstairs to watch another flick. Some time later, I felt my Kindle being lifted off my head and my glasses being slid off my face. I stirred and grunted as he kissed my forehead before walking over to his side of the bed. One of the signs of my singleness for a few years was the semi-permanent indentations on my nose from falling asleep with my glasses on every night. Now that only happens when he’s out of town.

Each of those gestures says he sees me. He knows me. He loves me.

We tend to look for love in the grand scale. The words. The romance. The events.

When it often finds its home in the little things.