In the best relationships, each partner acts as both student and teacher.
As a student, you approach each situation within your marriage with curiosity. You listen to learn rather than respond. You accept that there are areas where you are still learning and improving. You see yourself not only as you are, but as you can be. You understand that mistakes are part of learning and starting over means you’re applying the lessons. You strive to not be right, but to be better.
As a teacher, you want to challenge your partner because you see their potential and promise. You accept them as they are while encouraging them to be what they can. You share your strengths and help them develop their own. You celebrate their successes and find joy in their learning. You honor their wisdom while sharing your own.
And together you become better.
Not by completing each other.
But by supporting and challenging each other in equal measure.
Because when both partners are both student and teacher, there are no life lessons that cannot be mastered.
That certain chill in the air. The posture slightly too rigid and closed off. The tone that is just a little too clipped. The words may be right, but something is off.
A disconnection.
It’s like the plug that charges the relationship is only partly plugged in.
It happens in every relationship. It can be as minor as one partner withdrawing for a few moments or hours. Or, it can also prove fatal to the marriage when withdrawal becomes the default position.
So why do people withdraw from their partners? What makes the connection faulty and the charge intermittent?
Fear of Intimacy
It’s scary to allow someone in to your innermost thoughts, dreams and fears. As relationships progress into ever-deepening levels, it’s common to pause and even retreat for a bit to acclimate to the new level of connection must like a deep sea diver has to take breaks on the return to the surface. This type of withdrawal, when short-lived, is nothing to worry about. It’s simply time spent adjusting and processing before the next level is reached. If, however, the retreat from intimacy occurs early and often, it may be a sign that someone is not yet ready to be vulnerable and open.
Fear of Rejection
This withdrawal type can lead to a sad self-feeding loop. One partner is afraid of rejection and decides that he or she would rather retreat than risk approach. The other partner can then easily feel rejected by their partner pulling back. You can have a situation where both people crave connection yet are too afraid to risk asking for it. If you find that you are afraid of rejection, work to address your own needs that allow this worry to grow. If your partner makes a bid for attention, work to respond in a way that is accepting rather than rejecting.
Flooding
Some people are more sensitive than others; an amount of emotion that may feel perfectly tepid to one person may be scalding to another. When somebody floods, their emotions are overwhelming them. And even though their surface may remain placid, inside they are a tantruming toddler. When someone is flooded, they are unable to respond rationally and struggle to normalize their emotional balance. When something is too intense, it’s natural to retreat for a time. Flooding is often a sign of some unresolved trauma, the emotions triggered having more to do with the past than the present. If your partner is easily triggered, work to be supportive and patient while encouraging him or her to address the underlying issues. If you find that you are easily overwhelmed, make resolving your trauma a priority.
Anger
Some people wear their anger on their sleeves, leaving no doubt as to the emotion at the helm. Others are more covert, either because they have been trained to hide anger or because they are afraid of addressing the underlying problem face on. And furtive anger can often lead to withdrawal when one partner steams in silence. When anger is at a peak, it is often advisable to retreat for a time to calm down and think more rationally. That respite should be followed by approach, communicating the anger and working together to resolve the broken boundaries. If one (or both) partners consistently fume from afar, the anger will only mutate into resentment, causing a more permanent rift in the relationship.
Introversion
Some people simply require more solitude than others. It’s easy for an extrovert to sense a disconnect from their introverted partner when the latter is retreating in order to refuel his or her energy. If you are the more introverted partner, it is your responsibility to communicate your need for alone time to your spouse and make connection and intimacy a priority when you are together. If you are feeling left out by an introvert, learn how to establish connection without overwhelming their senses.
Outside Pressures
Marriages do not exist in a vacuum. We all have demands placed (okay, sometimes heaped) upon us from outside the relationship. Withdrawal can occur anytime someone is feeling overwhelmed and overworked. It’s a method of survival, cutting off blood flow to some areas in order to focus on what is critical in the moment. A marriage can survive a short-term starvation of attention and energy. Yet leave the tourniquet on too long, and there will be no marriage to return to. If your spouse is in survival mode, strive to be compassionate yet also persistent about maintaining connection. If you are the drowning one, don’t neglect to ask your spouse for a hand.
Pursuer/Withdrawal Dance
This is one of the fatal relationship patterns often described by Gottman. Understand that your partner’s withdrawal has more to do with them then with you. Don’t take it personally. But at the same time, take it seriously, because a habit of withdrawal can initiate a catastrophic domino effect. The initial withdrawal can occur for any of the above reasons. If it is then followed by a desperate grab for attention by a panicking spouse, it sets up the choreography for a dance where one partner is always retreating and the other is always grasping.
All relationships have an ebb and flow of intimacy. The challenge is learn how to ride it out rather than allow any periods of withdrawal to slide into a downward spiral of disconnection. For the partner sensing the distance and craving connection, the key is to relax and not push away or flood the more reserved partner. And for the attachment to return, the retreating partner must be aware of his or her own patterns and make a sustained effort to maintain the intimacy.
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?
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.
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 