Are They Like Us? The Fascination With Celebrity Divorce

It’s been cold lately. And dark. And often wet and windy. So in the wisdom (or perhaps wimpiness) of my old age, I have traded in my outdoor runs for time on the treadmill. Which also means I end up watching a lot of HGTV (because it’s that or news and I refuse to subject myself to the latter).

So I’ve become versed in two celebrity couples (Chip and Joanna from Fixer Upper and Tarek and Christina from Flip or Flop) whose marriages – and in one case case, divorce – are frequently being analyzed in the media.

Celebrity marriage can be a strange thing. In our daily lives, the interior of any marriage other than our own tends to be tucked away, kept hidden behind carefully curated Facebook posts and a belief that any blips are somehow abnormal and should be suppressed. Whereas with today’s media, we are often granted an intimate view inside the relationships of the famous. Even though the cameras are only sometimes on and the publicists attempt to control the release of information, we still see quite a lot and, even more importantly, we can begin to feel like we know the people involved.

I used to feel a little let down when I would turn on the TV over the treadmill and see Tarek and Christina’s faces. The show was fine, it certainly followed the formula of “Oh no! This house is worse than we anticipated! We’re over budget because of some sort of surprise repair. But we still have to buy these too-expensive cabinets/floor tiles/solid gold bathtub.”

My discomfort instead came from watching the interplay between the couple. I found myself cringing at Tarek’s visible contempt for his wife’s opinion. It was awkward watching them attempt to force a connection when it seemed as though one no longer existed. They both seemed to be more vibrant, more alive, with other people on the show rather than with their partner.

So I was not surprised when a history of marital trouble (including a secret separation) and impending divorce were announced. It became a bit of train wreck – people didn’t really want to know the salacious details yet they couldn’t make themselves look away.

Reactions were mixed. Overwhelmingly, people expressed concern for those involved, especially for the children. There was also a sense of vindication, of letting themselves off the hook. After all, if the good-looking, rich and famous can’t always make marriage work, how are the rest of us supposed to do any better with our money woes and childcare pressures?

The other couple I frequently see, Chip and Joanna, seem to be polar opposites of the first. They appear to have an overwhelming mutual appreciation and respect for each other and operate well as a team. Yet, the media seems to love to speculate about an impending split. Perhaps because they seem too-perfect and we can’t help but wonder if it’s real. (And maybe even secretly hope that it’s not.)

Celebrity culture is a strange phenomena. It makes us both want to be like them and also invites us to revel in their destruction. We both watch their marriages to feel better about our own and also to question if we are somehow lacking. We watch for signs of trouble brewing to reassure ourselves that we can catch sight of the red flags to convince ourselves that we are “safe” in our relationships. When a divorce does occur, it’s easy to view it as entertainment and to readily assign roles of good guy and evil villain and to minimize the emotional fallout that must be occurring behind the scenes.

My guess is that their marriages really aren’t that different than the rest of ours – sometimes great, sometimes terrible and all-too-often taken for granted. And their divorces may differ in scale and attention, but those at the core are still heartbroken.

As for me, my time on the treadmill these past few months has taught me a few things –

I can’t afford to live in California. I wish I could bring Waco housing prices to Atlanta. Painting everything gold is never a good idea and there is such a thing as too many clocks. And, more than anything else, I’m grateful that I don’t have to face speculation on the state of my marriage in the checkout line at the grocery store.

 

 

 

Slowly Turning Up the Heat: The Dark Side of the “New Normal”

abuse

Are you dismissing abuse as “normal?”

A “new normal” can simply be a period of adjustment, of accepting what has changed and adapting to a new environment. This type of acclimatization may be uncomfortable, but it is ultimately relatively harmless and potentially even provides opportunity for growth.

Learn more about the “new normal” after divorce.

But that’s not always the case.

Like many people, I used to question the decision-making abilities of those who chose to stay in toxic or abusive environments. Don’t they see how poorly they’re being treated? Don’t they expect better for themselves? I just couldn’t understand.

Until I was in a toxic environment myself.

My first known experience with a poisonous atmosphere was when a new administration took over my school. The changes started almost immediately. The email newsletter, where exemplary teachers were highlighted on a weekly basis, was suspended. Meetings began to take on an accusatory tone and trust levels began to decline. By winter break, we all began to feel as though we were walking on eggshells and trying not to wake the sleeping dragon. The image that always comes to mind when I reflect upon that era is a meeting my team had with the principal. A meeting where he sat high behind his desk, yelling at us while we were seated on the floor.

We adapted. As a group, we learned when to keep our mouths shut (which was always, as long as we were within the bounds of the school). We learned not to question, because the answers were always in the form of punishment, meted out with what seemed to be a vicious delight. And we even joked about the circumstances, trauma funneled into hilarity in an attempt to survive.

And the scary part? It began to feel acceptable. After all, we were ensconced in that environment for 10+ hours a day.

The toxic and abusive environment had become our new normal.

And it was only once we were out that we could see it for what it was. Once we were all back in functional work environments, we could see how crazy of a world we had occupied.

 

It may have become our normal.

But it was far from okay.

It is rare for abuse to go from “off” to “high heat” within the first meeting (because then nobody would ever stay, would they?). Rather, the heat is slowly increased so that the intensification hardly registers and the very-much-not-okay no longer seems unusual or to be of any consequence. That’s definitely how the covert abuse developed in my marriage.

There are a few strategies to identify this dark side of the “new normal” and to recognize abuse as it begins to escalate:
  • Be careful if you’re in a fragile state. You may find that you’re attracting people that see you as easy to manipulate or dominate.
  • Listen to your gut. You may not “know” what is wrong, but you’ll have a sense that something is off.
  • Be aware of if you’re creating justifications for situations or behavior. If you’re always making excuses, it’s a sign that something isn’t quite right.
  • Be cognizant of “boundary sliding.” If you always said, “I never put up with…” and now you are, that’s telling you something.
  • Ask for feedback. Describe the situation to a trusted friend or volunteer on a helpline and get their feedback. It’s easier to see clearly when you’re not on the inside.
  • If you have suspicions, begin to document the behaviors. Once you have it in writing, it’s easier to see any patterns and it’s harder to make excuses.

 

Abusive relationships rarely improve. Promises of “This will be the last time” and “I’m going to be better” seldom come to fruition. And while you’re waiting for it to get better, the heat may just reach the boiling point.

Jump out while you can.

 

After Divorce: Is This Your New Normal?

In response to my video, The Three Things I Hated to Hear During Divorce, one reader shared her pet-peeve phrase about adjusting to life after a break up – “It’s your new normal.”

And even though that phrase didn’t make my hair stand on end, I could understand her ire. After all, nothing about life after the apocalypse of an unwanted divorce feels normal. And the last thing you want to do is to accept it as such.

 

New: not existing before; unfamiliar

Normal: typical, expected

 

Which makes a “new normal” a bit of an oxymoron.

 

Because of the particularly large blast radius of divorce, there is little left untouched. Not only are you dealing with the end of a relationship with your spouse, you are also navigating major changes with your children, your family, your friends and even the dry cleaner. Your living arrangements have been altered and you may even find yourself without a home to call your own. Items which once were sentimental or at least innocuous have become landmines of emotion, ready to detonate at a moment’s notice. Your emotions feel more out of control than they did during your teenage years; you never know when you’re going to be struck down by tears or irradiated with red-hot rage. This, alongside the sleep difficulties, means that tasks that once seemed simple now feel overwhelming and impossible.

On the surface, things may look normal. You manage to maintain your appearance, only the changes in your weight and the dark circles residing under your eyes belying the hidden pain. You go through the motions of life, taking the kids to school, clocking in at the office, even managing to fill your grocery cart with appropriate food items. Yet even though much of it is the same, it feels as though it has been rotated 90° from normal, like some dystopian world that only bears passing resemblance to our own. It’s an alien world and one which you received no training in how to navigate.

As you stumble through, your brain releases a steady drumbeat of protest –

“This isn’t fair.”

“This shouldn’t be happening.”

“This isn’t what I planned.”

“How could they do this to me/us?”

“Will I ever be okay again?”

And perhaps the scariest one of all…

“Is this it? Is THIS my new normal?”

 

Well, yes.

And no.

Some of the post-divorce changes may indeed be permanent. Your relationship with your ex-spouse will never return to the way it was. Likewise with your in-laws and with certain friends or friend groups. Your parenting role will be different and you will have to help your children negotiate life with divorced parents. Your financial well-being may be diminished for a time or even forever. And no matter what the future holds, this experience will always be a major chapter in your life story.

Yet these changes, even the difficult ones, will no longer be so foreign, so unfamiliar. Much like how you learn to navigate a darkened space once you’ve spent time in a home, you will no longer see this life as strange and foreboding. It just is.

The new has become the normal.

 

But that’s not the whole story.

You’ve adapted, become accustomed. You’ve accepted those things you cannot alter.

Now it’s time to modify what you can in order to create what you want.

Consider that darkened room. At first, it was a new space and all you could do was stumble through until you finally became adept at navigating through the furniture. There are some things about that room that are fixed, unchangeable. But within those walls, you have endless freedom to shape a space you love.

And at first, that will feel strange. You will stumble. Maybe even trip and fall. And then, over time, that will become your new normal. And a better one that you found yourself before.

 

New normal doesn’t mean that change cannot occur. It is not a place of settling or giving up. And it’s now a place you have to stay forever. New normal is a baseline, a platform where you can acclimate and adjust.

So, yes. Maybe this is your new normal. And maybe that’s okay.

Take some time and get used to the space.

And then think about how you can make it better.

 

The concept of a “new normal” can have a dark side. Learn more about that here.

 

How NOT to Be a Victim (No Matter What Life Throws at You!)

“Let me introduce you to the victim advocate,” offered the policeman who had arrested my husband the day before.

 

I stopped short. That was the first time that word – victim – had ever been applied to me. I certainly felt victimized. My partner of sixteen years had just abandoned me with a text message, stolen all of my money and then committed bigamy. Yet even though I was still in the acute phase of suffering, I startled at the application of the word “victim.”

 

Because even though I had been hurt, I did not want to see myself as a victim. Although it felt good for the pain and unfairness to be recognized, the term also made me feel minimized. That word embodied weakness in my mind and I wanted to feel powerful. It spoke of a lack of control and I wanted to be the one to drive my life.

 

I did not want to be a victim.

 

But for a time, I was.

 

In the beginning, I spoke about what was done to me. I looked for resolution and justice from outside sources, hoping for an apology from him and a conviction from the courts. I embraced my pain, feeling justified in holding on to it. Meanwhile, I demonized my ex, removing all semblance of humanity in my view of him.

 

There was a certain comfort in accepting a role as a victim. I garnered sympathy and commiseration from those around me. I had limited control and limited responsibility. But those same conditions that sheltered me also confined me.

 

As long as I saw myself as a victim, I would remain one. As long as I was limited by my past, I would remain a prisoner of what happened.

 

When the desired justice from the courts failed to appear and the hoped-for apology never came, I was left with a decision to make: I could either bemoan the circumstances or I could change my response.

 

I chose the latter.

 

I used the following ideas to help shed the guise of victim and make myself the hero of my own life:

 

Rewrite Your Story

 

When we are harmed, we often feel powerless, as though we are simply being led through someone else’s story. One of the first steps to renouncing victimhood is to take control of your story. Rewrite it. Reframe it. Narrate it. Change the perspective. Take yourself out of the role of victim (done to me) and put yourself in the role of hero (I did…). Write it or tell it until you believe it.

 

Pick up a pen and write your happy ending.

 

Create Purpose

 

Whatever happened, happened. There is no changing the past. But you can use the past to create something better in the future. Find some anger about what occurred and use that as fuel to drive you to create something better. Look around and see others suffering and use your experience to render aide. Use your rock bottom as a foundation for your life’s purpose.

 

You have the power to create something wonderful out of something terrible.

 

Make Changes

 

When unwanted change is thrust upon our lives, it’s easy to feel hopeless. Learn to recognize the potential hidden within and use the opportunity of uncertainty to create change of your choosing. There is no better time to release what no longer serves you and to embrace new beginnings.

 

When you’re rebuilding your life from the ground up, you have the power of choice and the wisdom of experience. That’s a powerful pair.

 

Find Gratitude

 

One of the powerful and difficult exercises that can empower the victimized is practicing radical gratitude. Face what has caused you the greatest pain, the most suffering, and write down why you are grateful for it. It is an amazing reminder of how much our thoughts rather than our circumstances are responsible for our happiness.

 

When gratitude is your wrapping paper, everything is a gift.

 

 

You are only a victim if you imprison yourself. Release yourself from the shackles of your past and let your spirit soar.

 

 

 

At Some Point, You Just Have to Make a Decision

During a recent get together with a friend, we ended up discussing a mutual acquaintance who, many years and many relationships after her divorce, still pines after her ex-husband.

“At some point,” my friend, who has recently faced a horrific loss of her own, stated, “You just have to make a decision.”

And she’s right.

All of us will, at some point in our lives, face some type of loss. We grieve, we begin to weave the loss into our story, we again take on the motions of life and we experience the buffering action of time.

Yet ultimately, it all comes down to a decision.

That one moment where you make the choice to take that first step towards moving on.

It doesn’t mean that you’ll never feel the pain again.

It doesn’t mean that you’re now on a straight and well-defined path.

And it doesn’t mean that you will forget.

Instead, it’s a decision to let go – of the hold to the past, of the irrational hopes, of the impossible wishes.

And a decision to instead choose life.