I currently live at the intersection of divorced and engaged. It’s a temporary home, one which I will only occupy for a little more than a year. I am never sure how to answer when people inquire about my relationship status. If I reply that I am divorced, they look at the ring on my finger with puzzlement. If I answer with, “Engaged,” I begin to receive advice appropriate to someone who has only had experience with singlehood. I am divorced and engaged, both states equally as true. My divorce has formed me into who I am and the engagement describes where I am going. But in this fleeting moment, I am described by both my past and my future.
I read Gary Chapman’s The 5 Love Languages about a year after my divorce. Chapman proposes that we each have a primary love language that we are best able to receive: acts of service, words of affirmation, gifts, quality time and physical touch. I read the book with one eye on the past, analyzing patterns in my marriage and one eye on the future, looking for current applications of the book.
Both perspectives proved to be interesting.
With my ex, I had to learn how to give and receive physical affection, as that love language was important to him. It’s strange that he was my teacher in that language: I came from an affectionate family and he came from a “hands off” environment. I guess that goes to show that nature can override nurture! Apart from physical touch, we were pretty balanced on love languages. I don’t think either one of us had one stand out more than another and I don’t think either of us ever felt like we couldn’t understand the language of the other. Our issue was that he didn’t reveal the truth. His love languages said one thing while concealing his actions, which said something quite different.
The book had more to say about my developing relationship with Brock. He didn’t do so well with physical touch and I had trouble at times reading his other gestures. The book helped to give me perspective and to look for his expressions of love in other ways. They were there all along, I just didn’t always see them. His love languages may have been a whisper to me, but mine were an overwhelming shout to him. I had to learn to tone it down while he had to learn to dial it up. We have found a balance and it has had more to do with the recognition of how the other expresses love and the understanding of how it is received than of trying to change the languages we each speak.
I like using the concept of love languages like I use other labels: as sticky notes, temporary shorthand used until I have gained full understanding. The love languages are simplistic by design, reducing our complexities into rather small categories. Although you probably identify more strongly with one or two of the languages, you can most likely relate to all of them at times. They can be useful, especially in newer relationships, as you try to understand how your partner communicates and receives love.
But eventually, the sticky notes should be removed so that you can see your partner for all of who he/she is and not just as a love language. And that’s when the sixth love language develops – the one that is unique to your relationship. That language is formed from the shared history, the private words, the successes and even the pitfalls. Its vocabulary is built from experiences; its syntax comes from understanding and compromise. As it is a new language, there will be errors in grammar or diction. It’s okay. Keep trying; the language will continue to develop and grow along with the relationship. It is a language that no one else can speak. If the relationship dies, the dialect dies with it.
As you move into a new relationship, one of the challenges is forgetting your former love language and clearing the slate for a new tongue. Be patient. It takes time to get to know someone and even more time to create a language together (there is no Rosetta Stone for love languages!).
Be sure to listen. Don’t be afraid to try. And remember to laugh when you make mistakes. It takes time to learn a new language but it’s always worth it:)
My father is a great man but he has not always been a great father.
Like millions of others of my generation, my parents divorced when I was a kid. As in many cases, their separation also impacted my relationship with my father.
I remember feeling close to my dad when I was quite young. I remember the way he gently combed my long, tangled hair being ever so careful not to pull. I remember him being so patient trying to teach me how to ride a bike. I remember his smell when he returned from a long bike ride or came in from mowing the lawn. I remember going with him to work and riding in his office chair while sucking on watermelon candies from the office snack area. I remember the endless sounds of his recorder echoing down the hallway as he practiced for upcoming performances. I remember all of this so clearly. And then the memories fade.
He was so good at doing the “girly” things with me. He even let me subject him to the My Little Pony 2 hour movie! Now, that’s love:)
The crystal clear memories of him from early childhood are replaced by a fuzzy impression, periodically stamped with flashes of clarity that lasts from the age of 6 or so until around the age of 9. I don’t know if I didn’t see him as much or if it’s just that I don’t remember. Or, maybe I was too busy practicing how to say, “Vanilla, Please.” 🙂
My parent’s split surprised me. I never saw them fight and was not aware that anything was wrong. My dad was the one to break the news to me. It was the first time I ever saw him cry. He moved out days later.
I may stink at bike riding, but at least I could manage 3 wheels:)
For the last couple years of elementary school, I spent Tuesday and Thursday nights at my dad’s apartment and the rest of the time with my mom. I was an only child, so I was alone in this shuffle. I had a routine. I would bake refrigerated biscuits (the kind that come in a tube) in his toaster oven and eat them for dinner with grape jelly and a tall glass of orange juice. (Obviously, I had not yet discovered the joys of kale and tofu.) We would watch a half hour of Headline News and then watch some Nick At Night (Night Court was our favorite) until I fell asleep on my pallet on the living room floor. I had started reading adult books by that age (this was before Harry Potter and the like existed) and my dad’s books (adventure, historical fiction, thrillers) held a much greater appeal than my mom’s (counseling, self help, “Hallmark movie”) and so many nights found me soaking in the bathtub for hours while I was transported by some wonderful tale. On special nights, we would borrow a movie from the apartment company’s selection and settle in for the show. I saw my first ever PG-13 movie in that apartment – Alien – on a night when I came home sick with strep. I thought the monsters were pretty cool.
My dad has always had a special touch with animals.
Even though I saw my dad twice a week, he had started to become a stranger to me over those years. Some of it was the divorce; he and my mom were both trying to recover. Part of it was my age; I was reaching puberty (with hormones galore) and was no longer a little girl. Regardless of the reasons, we no longer really knew how to relate to each other.
Months after my 11th birthday, my dad moved across the country for work. Our twice weekly visits turned into annual trips with only sporadic conversations and letters peppered throughout the school years. I would talk about my friends or boyfriends, but they were strangers to him. I would try to tell him about school but would soon become overwhelmed with the amount of backstory needed to get the narrative through. There were times I was upset and he wasn’t there or wasn’t able to say the right thing. I became used to him not being there. Over time, I began to pull away. It was less painful to be the one who chose to turn away rather than be the one left behind.
I know that some of my drive to always do more and achieve more comes from that time. I wanted him to be proud of me. I wanted him to want me in his life. I felt like I disappointed him by not being good at the things at which he excelled: music, biking and math (okay, so at least I’ve mastered one of those now!). I never doubted that my father loved me yet somehow I didn’t often feel loved. He didn’t know how to express it and I didn’t know how to receive it. We communicated through dog pictures and humor. We shared activities (the tandem recumbent bike was pretty cool!) but not a deep connection. He was never a deadbeat dad, he was just a distant dad.
After a rafting trip in Oregon. I was around 13.
When I started dating in high school, I luckily had enough sense not to seek out the missing male attention from boys. That doesn’t mean that my dad was far from my mind, however. I intentionally sought out guys that were different than him. I wanted someone demonstrative in their affections. I looked for extroverts that didn’t have too much “engineer” in them. When one guy I dated started to remind me of my dad, I ran the other way. When I chose the man who would become my husband, I selected someone who didn’t remind me of my father at all.
My the time I got married, I was no longer angry at him for leaving. I wasn’t disappointed that he wasn’t there. I had reached a place of accepting our relationship for what it was.
And then he surprised me. First, at my wedding reception, he stood up to make a toast. I froze. I was expecting him to make a joke or some silly comment. Instead, he said some very heartfelt words and I saw him tear up for the second time ever. Then, months later, my husband and I lost our earnest money when a house we had under contract fell through due to the seller. I was devastated. That loss meant that we would have to delay purchasing a house for several more months. I’m not sure why, but I chose to call my dad, rather than my mom, for comfort and advice when I hung up with the realtor. Days later, an unexpected check came in the mail from my dad for the exact amount of the lost earnest money. I remember standing in the living room of my apartment, holding the check and the sweet card that came with with it. I had tears pouring down my face that time. I turned to my new husband and said, “I have a father.”
Our patterns still didn’t change much during my marriage. We spoke occasionally and saw each other even less frequently. That continued until his father became ill. I don’t know if it was the harsh reality of mortality facing my dad or that he reflected upon his role as a father, but he started to open up. He came for a visit around that time and it was the first encounter in many years where I felt comfortable around him again. We both teared up when we embraced at the airport at the conclusion of the trip.
We were both still holding back, however. Our stoic natures and analytical minds kept us at a safe distance. I think we were both afraid of being rejected. And we may have stayed that way if it wasn’t for the text. He was there when I received the news that my marriage was over. He held me as I lay collapsed on the floor. He gripped my hand on the flight back to Atlanta. He sat next to me as I discovered the extent of the betrayals. He made the phone calls that I could not. He was exactly the father that I needed him to be. The shock and trauma washed away all hesitation and all of the insecurities we had with each other.
At the end of his week here, my father gave me the best gift ever. At a restaurant, over dinner, he talked. For the first time ever, I heard his story about my parent’s divorce. I learned how he felt above moving. The words just flowed, accompanied by tears. He said he had been wanting to have that conversation with me for twenty years.
It was well worth the wait.
As I’ve said before, I lost a husband but I gained a father. That conversation set the stage for my healing. I softened that day. I knew at that moment that I had a father. Not just that night, but always. I may have been abandoned by my husband, but I knew then that I wasn’t abandoned by my dad. And since that week, he has been there for me at every turn, from horrible calls from the lawyers during the divorce to the news that I was getting married again, and all of the minutiae in between, he has been there.
I started to get to know my dad. We discovered how much we have in common (now I know who to blame for my short femurs!). It was amazing to discover how many topics we had the same opinion on, even though we never discussed them. We both became more comfortable expressing emotions. I’m sure he would still think it was pretty cool if I could actually ride a bike worth a damn or play more than Heart and Soul on the piano, but now I know that he is proud of me regardless.
My dad and Tiger. I think they get along:)
It’s also interesting that when I approached dating again post-divorce that I sought out men that had traits that reminded me of my father. And, this time, when I chose the man who will be my husband, I found one that reminds me of my dad in some ways. Because, it turns out that my dad is a pretty awesome guy:)
I was planning on moving in with Brock in June, once my lease had expired. Maddy, my elderly cat from my former life, moved in a bit early. I had asked Brock to look in on her while I was in San Antonio over spring break. He elected to go ahead and move her into his place. Brock had never owned a cat and wasn’t really a ‘cat person.’ Plus, we had Tiger to be concerned about. He is an amazing and very obedient dog that is not aggressive in the slightest, but he does outweigh Maddy by a good 90 pounds. Plus, at the time of her arrival into his home, he was still full of boundless (and clumsy) puppy energy.
Brock was amazing at orchestrating their introduction. He began by studying Cesar Millan’s recommendations for animal introductions, especially since Tiger had already been dog whispered. We brought Maddy over in her crate and set her on the floor. Brock used his body language to claim the cat as his while Tiger was allowed to sniff around. Maddy had known and loved dogs; she lived with 3 in our previous life. However, she was older and had also been traumatized by multiple moves and time spent around a growing baby. She was hesitant. But eventually, Brock and Tiger both won her over. She is now more social and less fearful than she has ever been. She has learned how to relax and trust others. Some parallels with her momma, perhaps? 🙂
Brock and I sometimes get irritable with each other. We get frustrated and occasionally feel misunderstood. This doesn’t happen often. (And, when it does, it’s usually about me feeling overwhelmed. Go figure.) We always work through the issues. It takes some time. I usually have to release some emotion first and it takes him time to find the right words. But eventually we get there.
He is a fire building machine – a great asset on camping trips!
It’s strange. Now that I know that a disagreement doesn’t mean he’s about to walk out the door, I like them. No, that doesn’t mean that I like to argue. I don’t; it’s not my nature. What I like is that it feels real. My ex and I didn’t agree on everything, but we rarely had to deliberately and methodically work things out. In retrospect, I think he actively avoided conflict and, with my anxiety, I was all too happy not to rock the boat. I have had to learn all over again to speak up when I need to and to be prepared to work it all the way through. I also have learned from Brock’s humility; he is always ready to admit when he is wrong or doesn’t know something. He has helped me see the world through the eyes of a constant learner, leaving my ego checked at the door.
I am happier now than I ever have been. I don’t have the paralyzing fear of losing Brock like I did my ex. I’m secure in my attachment. I am more aware of our “individualness” within the partnership. I said about my ex,
“He had become fully enmeshed in my existence. Teasing the strings of him out of me would take time and a patient hand. I needed to find out where he ends and I begin.”
I don’t think I’ll ever feel that way again. I don’t if that is good or bad, but it is. That individuality is what creates some of the conflict, but it also means that we are each healthy and functional in are own rights. I feel like we are both conscious in our decisions and our choices. We are together because we want to be together, not because we are afraid to be apart. And that feels amazing.
It’s difficult to see in the lighting, but these are two trees that have grown together at points.
It’s been interesting during the progression of our entire relationship – I went from acting married with short-term dates (not intentionally, it was just what I was used to) to being a step behind Brock during our courtship. He said, “I love you” first, he started using “our” first, and he was the one to initiate a real talk about marriage first. I am so thankful that we moved slowly. Too fast and he would have probably shut down and I would not have had the needed time to heal and move forward myself. It has been great to enjoy each stage without worrying about what the next has to offer.
Flowers in the Vitamix. That’s how we roll:)
We had talked about marriage, more in the abstract than anything, at various points throughout our relationship. Neither one of us felt a strong need to legalize our relationship. We had no internal or external pressure to wed. We had been exclusive and committed for years. We shared a home and a joint account for home expenses (don’t worry – I still have my own separate accounts too:) ). I could tell that Brock was wanting more. We completed paperwork to give the other the power to make medical decisions. We became emergency contacts and beneficiaries. But still, he felt like there was more.
Last August, we were visiting friends on the Georgia coast. (Let’s Go On An Adventure) We took a day trip over to Cumberland Island. While we were walking along the deserted dunes together, he asked, “Would you ever want to get married again?” I pulled a Lisa and gave him a non-answer, talking about how I wasn’t opposed to marriage and I had liked being married, etc., etc. He asked again. I said the same things. He asked a third time. By this time, we were spread out on the beach on our respective towels. I turned towards him, realization finally breaking through my defenses.
“Yes, I would.”
“Good,” he replied, “because I already made an appointment to go look at rings.”
The note that appeared on my desk a few days later.
I could have chosen to stay walled off. I could have decided to never risk love again. But life on those terms isn’t worth it to me. I’d rather love again and risk the loss than live with the certainty of being alone. I’m ready to embrace love with all its beautiful imperfections and glorious uncertainties. I choose to love.
My boys:)
With my ex, cohabitation, engagement, and marriage all felt about the same. That’s not the case this time. Mainly because of how it has impacted Brock – he has been much more vulnerable and open since that day. He never thought he would get married and, now that it is going to happen, he is able to relax more and reveal more. As for me? It just feels right. I love this man and I want that known. I love how we challenge each other and encourage the other to learn and grow. We have both learned from our pasts and have made different choices this time around. I do want to be married again. This time for real.
Tamely = team + family The memory card is already full of our adventures and I look forward to adding many more!
Dating after divorce tends to be a deliberate action, entered into consciously and tentatively after years or even decades with the same person. This can be an opportunity for you to clarify your needs and the needs of a relationship before you step out on that first date. The following are my suggestions for your ten commandments of dating after divorce.
One: Your “Must Haves”
Take some time to generate this list; do not assume what it contains. You may be surprised to realize that there are aspects of your ex that you want again or perhaps characteristics that were not important before but are now. For me, my ex was never a match for me physically (I’m not talking about intimacy here; we were an excellent match in the bedroom). I loved to run and lift weights, and enjoyed the social aspect of exercise, whereas he only exercised to lose weight and even then was very private about it. I knew that I wanted someone that would join me on a run or meet me at the gym. I also wanted someone for whom fitness and exercise was a way of life, not just an opportunityto cinch in the belt a bit. As you list your “must haves,” try not to censor them; your subconscious may know more about what you need than your rational mind does at this point.
Two: Your “Must Not Haves”
This list compliments the one above and, in fact, you may find that it is generated at the same time. Like with your “must haves,” you may find that some of these are rather concrete and others are vague and hard to define. That is okay. List them. Even the ambiguous will have meaning to you as you meet people. Two of my items on the “must not have” list were 1) cannot be dishonest (uhmm..great. How do I tell this on a date?) and 2) cannot have kids or want kids (I have pretty strong feelings on this one and it’s not fair to start a relationship with someone who does not match me here). Once you have your lists generated, keep them handy and allow them to be modified or updated as you date and meet new people. They are not set in stone, but they are also not be ignored, especially if you find yourself in the biochemical throes of love lust.
Three: Release Expectations and View Each Encounter as a Lesson
This is a big one. First a reality check. Life is not a romance novel nor a Hollywood movie. That insufferably cute and perfect couple at the park is either in the biochemical throws of lust or has another side to their relationship that you do not see. No one is perfect. No date is perfect. No relationship is perfect. Just let that thought go like a helium balloon in the wind.
Still with me?
Not every date you go one will be good, but every date you go one will teach you something. Try to enter every encounter with an open and curious mind, ready to receive the lessons to come. On some dates, you might learn about someone else, some you may learn about yourself, and yet others you may learn about the intricacies of being a private pilot for a billionaire (yup, true story there). If you enter each date excepting a positive experience, you will be disappointed at least some of the time. If you approach the meeting as a lesson, you will never be let down and you will gain valuable (or at least interesting) information in the meantime.
Four: Be True to Yourself
The period after divorce is a vulnerable time. You may feel amorphous as you break out of the box that defined you as a spouse. You may feel that the true you is unlovable and seek to change your identity. It can be so tempting to expand yourself like a pressurized gas let out of a sealed container. Some expansion and growth is normal and healthy, but make sure that you remain true to yourself and your basic beliefs and values. I started out with a “try anything” approach, but I soon realized that there were “anythings” out there that I had no interest in trying.
Five: Take Baby Steps
This one took me some trial and error. I was so used to being married. I did marriage well, whereas I had no clue how to date. In my first few encounters, I would easily settle in and make myself comfortable as though it was a marriage. It was a known and safe place for me, but not exactly an ideal way to date. There is no rush, no race. Learn to find comfort in the process and the path of dating, rather than being focused on a destination. Move slowly enough that you can appreciate each step and acclimate along the way.
This was a lesson that I learned from my current beau of 2+ years. He emphasized the need to progress slowly, pausing along the way like divers coming from the deep. It allowed both of time to become comfortable and provided opportunity to work through issues as they arose. We were able to set up partnership deliberately, not out of my automatic default setting.
Six: Keep Some Distance
It can be easy to be swept away when you meet someone new. It’s exciting and it feels so good to have that feeling reawaken after you may have been fearing its death. Remember that this feeling is temporary, as the hormones fade back to normal levels, that initial rush will fade too. It’s simple biochemistry. Enjoy the rush when it happens, but maintain enough distance that your rational brain has time to communicate its thoughts to you as well. It’s fine (actually, wonderful) to get caught up in a moment, but don’t let that moment turn into a marriage that you do not intend. Keep some distance so that you can make informed decisions about your future.
Seven: Be Open
I know what you’re thinking: “First she cautions me to keep some distance and now she wants me to be open? Which is it?”
Both.
Be open to new possibilities. Your new paired life may not resemble the old. Your new partner may be different than the former. You, yourself, will most likely change from how you were in your marriage. Be open and willing to investigate these new alternatives.
But keep some distance so that you can check with yourself to make sure that you do not deviate too far from the true you.
When I first joined Match.com, I went out on dates with men that didn’t jive at all with what I thought I liked. I found myself consistently surprised as I found characteristics and attributes attractive that were not on my radar before. If I entered the dating arena with a closed mind, sure of what I liked, I would have never have met those men and learned those lessons.
Eight: Address Your Social Needs
Divorce is alienating. Lonely. The person that you spent most of your time with is gone. You may have lost other friends in the deal or had the nature of friendships slip and slide away. Dating is certainly social, but it should not be the only item on your social calender. In fact, I would recommend that you ensure that you identify your social needs ahead of time (2 hours a week? 10? It varies for everyone.) and plan to have 60-80% of those needs met outside of dating. Join a class, sign up for Meetup.com (I swear most of the people I met on Meetups were divorced!), form a social group at the gym…it doesn’t matter how you address your social needs, just don’t put the weight of them at the feet of your dates.
Nine: Have an Outlet
Ever feel angry at your situation? Sad when you think about what you have lost? Ever need to scream? Cry?
Me too. As you enter the dating world, make sure that you have an outlet for these powerful typhoons of emotion. It can be a therapist, a family member, a friend, or even a dog. You don’t have to keep all of your powerful emotions hidden from a date, but you also don’t want to flood him/her with them either.
Ten: Have Fun
Dating is fun. You get to meet new people and engage in new experiences. You get to explore and question, as you see the world in new ways. Don’t forget to laugh and enjoy yourself along the way.
Lessons From the End of a Marriage 