5 Things We Hold On To After Divorce

Divorce requires letting go – of the marriage, the dreams, the regrets and even the promises. Yet we often struggle to let go. If feels wrong. Scary. Unfamiliar and untested.

So instead, we grip, holding on even when the thing we’re holding on to only causes us harm.

 

We Hold On to An Image Of Our Former Partner

Maybe you still see them as they were in the beginning of the relationship. Or, you see them as you want them to be. Regardless, you’re holding on to an image of them, a picture that is more in line with your wishes than their reality.

 

We Hold On to Our Dreams of What the Relationship Should Have Been

If only the affair hadn’t happened. Or the addiction. Or the growing distance after having children. Then, we tell ourselves, the marriage would still be okay. We cultivate this image of what our lives are supposed to be like and even when life trajectories change, we have a hard time letting go of Plan A.

 

We Hold On to Our Anger and Blame

We rail against our ex-partner, or their affair partner or some other factor that we blame for the relationship’s demise. We feel powerful in our anger, righteous and also purposeful. As long as we are angry, we at least have something.

 

We Hold On to Our Pain and Victimhood

It’s scary facing the world alone. And so we curl up in our cloak of “wronged one,” prompting others to render aide and support. Our pain becomes our identity. It’s proof that the relationship was important. That we were important.

 

We Hold On to a Need For Fairness

We place our faith in the courts. Or God. Or karma. Thinking that bad things come to exes for those who simply wait long enough. We hold on to the idea that in order for us to be okay, we need for them to not be okay. We just want them to feel the pain too.

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Signs You’re Holding On When It’s Time to Let Go

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Letting go is hard.

Damned hard.

I first learned this as a young child, exploring my grandmother’s basement, packed to the ceiling with carefully labeled and organized items as though she was preparing to seek refuge from the apocalypse.

Which, in many ways, she was.

She lived through starvation and disaster on the Dakota prairie that followed the first World War. Later, she experienced the Great Depression and the subsequent war that followed. She felt the burden of providing for three children while also caring for a sister and a husband that faced medical crises.

All of this occurred long before I was born. So I puzzled at the multiples of cans stacked on a windowsill that approximated a grocery shelf when a fully-stocked pantry and fridge occupied the kitchen above. From my perspective as a middle class American kid, the grocery store was a constant. I simply couldn’t understand the need to create an additional level of food security at home even as I could see how deeply the need went within her.

Then my parents divorced. And for the first time in my young life, I felt that overwhelming need to hold on to something – anything – in an attempt to create that sense of security and certainty that I needed to feel safe in the world. In fact, that need was part of what drove my attachment towards my first husband. Sometimes I wish that hindsight could be aimed forwards.

At some point, most of us experience that sense of life pulling the rug from beneath our feet. We reach out. And grab on. 

Only to realize much later that we’re still holding on long after it’s time to let go. 

The following are possible signs that you’re still holding on when perhaps it is time to let go:

The person, object or situation no longer brings you joy or fulfills a purpose.

The first hosta that I planted in my old front yard brought me endless pleasure. I admired its immense green span when I pulled into the driveway and marveled at the unfurling of its new leaves. As the sun intensified over the ensuing weeks, the once-pristine leaves began to brown, turning shriveled and deformed in the face of the sun’s relentless beating. The plant no longer brought me joy. Instead, the sight of the failing foliage brought me guilt and shame and frustration. Even as I refused to admit defeat and replace it with something more suitable.

We all have a tendency to that, to stubbornly hold on to our choices even when we no longer find joy or usefulness with our selection. Life’s too short for placeholders and clutter. If it doesn’t bring joy (to you or someone else) or fulfill a purpose, why continue to hold on?

You show signs of anxiety when you consider letting go that are out of proportion with the actual loss.

Have you ever removed a pacifier, favored toy or security blanket from the hands of young child? Did they act as though you were threatening their very existence? This just goes to show how easily we assign great meaning to things that can be relatively inconsequential.

We use these things – whether people or items – much like first responders use gauze to pack a wound. We stuff them in around the bleeding spaces in an attempt to halt the flow of emotion. Their presence means that we don’t have to examine the wound. And we fear that if we remove them, we will succumb to the underlying injury.

The opportunity cost is beginning to be a burden.

I was in contact with a person who was in an on-again, off-again relationship. They were torn. On the one hand, they were afraid of being alone and were appreciative of the positive aspects of this particular partner. On the other hand, there were significant communication struggles and work that both needed to do to past this. Ultimately, this person decided to move on – literally – because continuing to say “yes” to this relationship meant saying “no” to many exciting opportunities that were presenting themselves.

Whenever you are holding on to one thing, you are preventing yourself from holding on to something else. Are you finding that you have goals that you cannot seem to meet because your attention is still directed towards this other thing? Are your hands too full to pick up what you desire?

You find yourself making excuses and becoming defensive when questioned.

My need for my ex husband was extreme. So extreme that I was not able to face the thought of losing him, much less confront the reality of who he was. I made excuses for his excuses and defended him to myself and others. And the one time someone asked if I was afraid about infidelity while he travelled? Let’s just say that they never tried to bring it up again.

We often feed ourselves the narrative that we’ve made choices and now we have to live with them because it’s easier than facing the fact that maybe we made the wrong choice and we have the power to change it. Denial is powerful and it puts up quite the fight when it feels threatened. As such, when you feel yourself gearing up for a battle when there are no weapons drawn, it’s a sign that you may be grasping onto something that would be better off released.

The fear of the leap is the only thing in your way.

It’s scary to take a leap of faith.

The thought of letting go when you fear that you may plummet seems like a fool’s mission.

Yet if you’re always holding on, you’ll never know what you can reach.

Related: The Danger of Holding On

Let That Sh*t Go!

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The Danger Of Holding On

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One of my guilty (okay, so I don’t really feel guilty about it but it seems like I should) summer pleasures is catching a few minutes of television during the day. Last week, I saw the last few segments of the show, My 600-Pound Life. In this episode, a super-morbidly obese woman was in the hospital and being considered for bariatric surgery. The surgeon was reticent, both because of the patient’s extreme size and her refusal to attempt to walk.

It was the latter issue that grabbed my attention.

There were several scenes shown that all followed the same pattern:

“You need to walk. It’s critical for your health and recovery.”

“I can’t walk. I just can’t do it. I’m not feeling well.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I just don’t feel well.”

“I’m going to get some people here to help you get up.”

After the nurses or EMTs were summoned, they would surround her and using the sheet, would prop her into a sitting position and then slowly slide her legs off the bed until her feet were on the floor.

“I can’t! I can’t! Get me back up!” she cried at every attempt, even before her weight was fully on her feet.

Over the many months that these scenes span, you see her health decline as the frustration of her son and her doctor continue to rise.

Meanwhile, the featured woman is holding on to her conviction that she cannot walk, holding on to the weight encasing and imprisoning her and holding on to her identity as helpless.

START NOW

Just down the street from me, a new sign appeared last week advertising a soon-to-be-constructed storage facility. Although I should know better, I was shocked to see one in my area, which is mainly populated with large (and in the cases of the neighborhoods built in the last 15 years, huge) homes, most of which have basements because of the topography. There are few apartments and not many military personal, since it is not located near any of the bases.

In other words, there should not be much of a need for additional storage. But apparently, there is. The storage company’s research must have indicated that these families living in 2,500+ square foot homes need even more space to hold their belongings.

And I wonder how many of those storage units end up like my ex-in-law’s – rarely opened, never inventoried and filled with ever-decaying detritus even as they write a monthly check so that they can hold on to their belongings. Paying rent simply to avoid letting go.

I’m reading a book right now that features a woman who struggles with infertility. My heart ached for her as her hopes and grief grew with each successive miscarriage. I was elated when one pregnancy finally resulted in a healthy baby. Now, I thought, she has what she wants and get busy loving her child and reconnecting with her husband.

But at least so far, it’s not that simple. The woman has trouble appreciating what she has because of all that she has lost. Her attention and energy is devoted to the babies that didn’t make it rather than the one who did. And her grasp on the past is pushing away those who occupy her present.

There is always a cost for holding on.

The choice to keep one thing – an object, a belief, an emotion – always comes at the expense of something else.

It’s scary to let go.

We fear the loss more than we anticipate the freedom of space.

We surround our choice with justifications, clouding our judgement and defending our decision.

We identify with our collections, worrying that by paring them done, we somehow cut off a bit of ourselves.

But there is always a cost for holding on.

Grasping one thing means forgoing another.

It’s scary to let go. But sometimes that opens us up to reach for something better.

The woman in the show finally let go of her belief that she couldn’t walk. And those first few steps, supported by a walker and several attendants, were magical to watch. Her face filled not only with a smile, but with hope and confidence. She released the anchor and set sail on a new life.

Are You a Mental Hoarder?

English: Photo of the living room of a compuls...
English: Photo of the living room of a compulsive hoarder (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I saw a promo picture for of those hoarding shows the other day. It showed a woman surrounded by an impossible pile of stuff, trying to look strong, yet you could see the struggle on her face. I did not watch the show, but I gather that she acquired and held onto these items out of fear, that she sees the piles of clothes of objects as some sort of talisman against the evils and discomforts of the world. This may have worked for awhile, but eventually, as the stuff accumulated, so did its power. It now has her trapped, stuck, buried under the weight of that which she refused to let go of.

We see these shows or read these stories and wonder how they let it get so bad. Don’t they realize that the accumulations are smothering them? Don’t they know that many of those items are worthless? Don’t they see the freedom that comes from release. No, they don’t. They are wrapped in a security blanket of stuff that tightens around them like a serpent whispering platitudes into fearful ears.

We see these shows or read these stories and proudly declare that it could never happen to us. We would recognize that slippery slope and halt the accumulation before it grew to epic proportions. What we often fail to realize, however, is that we are guilty of the same behavior within our minds. You may not be surrounded by the tangibles of your past, but can you say the same for your thoughts? Do you let old hurts and pains clutter your mind? Are you buried under the weight of days gone by? Do you hold on to these memories and thinking patterns because you are afraid to let them go?

If you realize that outdated thoughts are cluttering your mind, read my post on Taking Out the Mental Trash to learn how you can begin to release the unneeded clutter so that you can breathe again without the weight of the past holding you down.

Holding On and Letting Go