The Honeymoon Period After Divorce

Posted on by stilllearning2b

We are all familiar with the honeymoon period of a new relationship – those weeks or months where the relationship is everything and seems to exist in a world all of its own. The end of a marriage can also have its own honeymoon period while the divorce remains the primary focus. It’s not uncommon for people who seem to be coping okay during the legal process to suddenly appear to fall apart once its all over. Here is what to expect after your divorce is final and some ways to cope with the end of the divorce honeymoon.

The Letdown of a Goal Attained

Once you have accepted that the end of your marriage is imminent, the divorce decree becomes a goal to reach. Hours may be spent procuring information, signing documents and making decisions towards that singular objective. If you’re like me, you assign the decree some magical power; it is the document that ends one life and symbolizes the beginning of another. I was disappointed when it turned out to be just a stapled stack of (very expensive) papers.

When something takes an immense amount of our time and energy, we have a tendency to feel disappointment when it is over. Even if it’s something we desperately wanted to be over. If you feel this way once your decree is in hand, replace the divorce goal with a new one. Do something with a finish line. Start a new degree or certification program. Make a commitment to learning a new skill. A goal will serve two purposes: it will give you something to focus on and, once you reach the benchmark, it will help to rebuild your sense of confidence.

The Support Fades

In the early days of a split, friends and family often step up and step in. Your inbox is filled with messages of concern and condolences. Texts arrive with offers of dinner or drinks. You may have people offer to watch the kids or take care of your lawn. I was very fortunate to have my dad with me the first week after my ex disappeared and my mom to take his place for the next two weeks. I had a friend take me in and many others take me out. There was always a shoulder to cry on and a hand to help.

But eventually that fades as new crises come up and yours fades into the backdrop of life. It can be an isolating feeling when you realize that the support has faded. The solution? Be proactive. Meet new people. Make new friends. Ones who don’t know you as “the divorcing one.”  Be careful not to turn to romantic interests to meet your emotional needs; that’s a recipe for additional heartbreak.

Sympathy Turns to Frustration

In the beginning, you will likely find that people are sympathetic to your pain. But after hearing you talk about your impossible ex for the umpteenth time, they will grow frustrated. Some may disclose this to your face. Others may be more subtle and just pull away from your company. It can be difficult – often healing takes longer than other’s patience.

If you find that your sobs and stories are wearing thin, it’s time to find a new place to share them. Find a therapist. Start a journal. Join a support group or online community. Also be willing to recognize if there’s a message in your friend’s withdrawal – are you complaining without changing?

Delayed Pain

During divorce, you have to be strong. You have to be ready to talk to lawyers without tears obscuring your words. You have to be able to make major decisions that will impact your life for the forseeable future. You may have to keep it together for the sake of your children.

I remember using the tasks of the divorce as a way to keep me from feeling the divorce. And when the divorce was done, those feelings came. With interest.

Be ready for these delayed emotions to hit. It doesn’t mean that you’re sliding backward; it just means that you’re slowing down. Feel them. Face them.  And then show them the door.

Reality Sets In

There’s something about the divorce being final that makes it all real. Permanent. Even though I had not talked to my ex in eight months by the time of the legal finale, he was still tied to me in so many ways. But once I had that paper in my hand, I felt the weight of the reality that my old life was gone and nothing would ever be the same again.

When someone leaves our lives, they leave a void.  It takes time to not try to call them when you have a smile to share or need someone to hold you up. It’s difficult to accept that they are gone.

This is a time to focus on the good. Create your gratitude list. Celebrate your new possibilities. Yes, you have lost the future you had imagined. So dream a new one.

Burden of Responsibility 

I remember the shock I felt the first winter after he left. For the first time, I was solely responsible for my own taxes. It was scary. Unfamiliar. But that’s nothing. For those who are single parents who carry the weight of primary custody, the burden of responsibility is huge. You may now be the sole caretaker and decision maker for dependent children. That’s an enormous responsibility.

You may be afraid to tackle these once-shared tasks and decisions on your own. Yet, each time you do, you will find that your confidence and ability improves. The more you carry, the stronger you become.

Boredom

I can hear you laughing from here. “I’d love some boredom,” you say. I’m sure. Yet it can also be a difficult adjustment. If your divorce was drama-filled, you have adapted to that level of stimulation. And when it’s over, it can be a challenge to acclimate.

Be aware of your need for stimulation. If it remains high once your life gears down, you may seek excitement in unhealthy ways. Stick to roller coasters and horror movies.

Fear of Beginning

While you’re divorcing, you have a legitimate reason for not making steps towards beginning your new life. Once the divorce is final, the excuse is gone. And starting over is scary.

But so worth it.

Wasted

Posted on by stilllearning2b

“I’ve wasted half my life,” I wailed to my friend from my spot curled up against the doorframe on her checkered kitchen floor.

She turned from loading the dishwasher, “Don’t ever say that. Nothing is ever a waste.”

At that time, I certainly didn’t agree with her. After all, I had just realized that some or all of the past sixteen years had been a lie. I learned that the man I pledged everything to had been manipulating and conning me. I was in the process of losing everything I worked so hard for – from the house to the savings to even the dogs.

I felt defeated.

It was not unlike spending money and time anticipating a lavish vacation only to come down with the stomach flu upon arrival. Only this vacation spanned the better part of two decades and wiped out more than just my appetite.

I wondered how I would ever come to terms with squandering sixteen years. After all, I could rebuild my finances, find a new home and even a new husband, but time was one thing I could never get back.

I gave most of my teenage years and all of my twenties to this man.

Years that now felt wasted. Opportunities passed by and paths never taken.

I felt like I had been led blindly down a dead-end road. A worthless journey to nowhere.

I grew angry, blaming him for stealing my years. My youth. My potential.

I wrote scathing words in my journal about the unfairness of it all, the pointed tip of my pen slashing through the pages. I spent hours crying about the loss, not only of the future, but of my past.

One night, the sobs suddenly stopped and as my breath hitched down to normal, I realized that these hours spent mourning the “what ifs” were the real waste. Not the years I spent living, even if it that life ended.

In that moment, curled in a fetal position on the worn and tear-stained flannel sheets in my friend’s spare bedroom, I vowed to not waste any more time thinking about what could have been. I promised myself that I would never again view those years as wasted.

 

Because nothing is every wasted is ever wasted if we enjoyed it in the moment.

Nothing is ever wasted if we learn and grow from the experience.

And nothing is wasted because it helps shape who we are today.

 

To see those years as wasted was really a reflection of how I saw myself after the piercing pain of rejection.

But those years weren’t worthless and neither was I.

Those moments may not have been deposited into the life I expected, but they turned out to be an investment into an even better future.

 

Choosing to see those years as anything-but-wasted was a gift of forgiveness to myself. I made the best choices I could have at the time. And now I know better and I choose better.

And I choose to make sure to live a life that I will never feel wasted.

Starting Over

Posted on by stilllearning2b

“I can’t do this.”

“Why should I try again? I’m just going to fail.”

“Maybe I’m just no good at this.”

“I’m tired of trying.”

I hear those refrains from my coaching clients about lifestyle changes. I hear them from my blog followers about relationships. And, most of all, I hear them from my students about algebra.

My days are filled with students groaning  in frustration, papers wadded up and thrown away in disgust. Every day, I reach into my supply of pencil-topping erasers and provide students with a way to obliterate their mistakes. Sometimes, they become too defeated by even the faintest echoes of work gone wrong, and I have to provide them with a fresh copy, unsullied by their past choices. Some students thrive when they can write on the Activeboard or even with dry erase markers on the desk, where the marks of any error erase without a trace. I model starting over, capitalizing upon rather than hiding my own mistakes at the board.

So much of my day is spent coaching people in starting over – motivating past the initial resistance and guiding new attempts. And even though I coach students on algebra and adults on life, much of the lessons are the same.

We would rather fail because we didn’t try than fail because we couldn’t do.

This was a powerful realization in my early teaching days. I would get so frustrated with students who would just give up and refuse to attempt anything. I saw it as lazy. Or obstinacy. But usually it was a form of self protection. You see, if we try and fail, it reflects upon on abilities. Whereas if we do not try, it only discloses our choices. I learned that in order to reach these students, I had to first convince them that they were worthy in spite of their failures. I found ways to build them up. To let them know that it was safe to try and fail; I would not ridicule mistakes and I would not allow other to either. And then I would find ways to create successes so that they could feel the joy of finally getting something right.

Failure means you’re learning. Starting over means you’re applying the lessons.

We may me more mature than those kids in some ways, but we also shy away from trying because of a fear of how it reflects upon us. We internalize failure rather than see it as a sign of growth. We want to play it safe, stay in known zone where the risks are not too great and the effort not too imposing. We look at the past effort as wasted and we fear starting over because it may lead to another dead end. But the reality is that nothing is ever wasted if you learn from it.

Starting over is overwhelming.

Whether it’s one of students having to re-do a page long problem or a person facing dating again after the end of a long marriage, starting over is hard. Very hard. It’s like taking your first step of thousands in a marathon – your leg is moving forward even as your brain is screaming, “Don’t! It’s impossible!” As with any feat of endurance, the trick is to focus on one step at a time. Starting over requires energy and if you’re mentally biting off more than you can chew, you’re exhausting your resources before you even begin.

When we focus only on the results, we grow frustrated. Celebrate the steps along the way.

I get a strange look from students when I praise their reasoning or skill on one step of a problem but still advise them that their answer is incorrect. “But, Mrs. Arends, I got it wrong. Why are you telling me I did something good?” Learning is a process. Starting over is a process. When we attach too much meaning to the outcome, whether it be a date or an algebra problem, we may miss the signs that we are getting better. So even when the results aren’t what you wanted, celebrate any signs of improvement.

Defeat only occurs when you give up. It’s better to change your goal than to throw in the towel.

In spite of the message put forth by the “everybody gets a trophy” mentality, not everybody can do everything. There are times that you may be trying to accomplish something that is beyond your reach and requires an endless amount of starting over. Rather than just give up completely, shift your goal to something you can do.

When we begin again, the possibilities are endless.

There is something about a blank slate that cultivates enthusiasm. It’s an empty canvas ready to accept whatever you put down. It’s easier to start from the actions of the past, rewriting what we have already tried. But this is your chance to do something new. Different. If one way didn’t work, toss it out and play around with another. If you allow it, starting over can have a sense of playfulness. Curiosity. Wonder and excitement.

Starting over is not doing the same thing again. Starting over is a gift of being able to apply the wisdom of your past to create the image of your future. 

Try. You just might amaze yourself with what you can do.

 

Taking a Test Drive and the Allure of New Beginnings

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I test drove a new car today.

It was shiny and unblemished next to my worn and pockmarked almost-sixteen-year-old car. Its pristine surfaces spoke not of its past but whispered of its future.

This was a car that has never disappointed me. Never failed to start or stuttered to a stop. No red flags have ever lit its dash. Whereas my car is sullied by my memories of its betrayals, this car has not earned a reputation of any kind.

And not only had this car not disappointed me, I had not done any damage to it, unlike my car with its scraped rear end from a misguided back-up attempt and its interior covered with mud and dog hair. You see, I have long since stopped putting any energy into my car. And it shows.

But this new car is different.

It suggests a fresh start. A clean slate.

It has the allure of promise and the taste of potential.

It’s enough to make me recoil from my old car, the mostly-faithful machine that has carried me through my entire adult life. I know her; I can drive her without a thought, every button and pedal activated by years of muscle memory. But as the years have advanced, I’ve grown tired of her. I’ve let her go and then poked fun at her grubby appearance. I’ve started to focus on when she lets me down rather than the 130,000 miles she has carried me without complaint. I grow frustrated at her nonfunctional trunk and laugh at the antennae that looks to be in need of a hearty dose of Viagra.

And, of course, the new car only seems so great because we have only shown each other our best sides. It has not yet revealed its little annoyances and shortcomings and I have not presented it with sweaty limbs after a run or a muddy dog after a hike. Everything is great when it is only possibility.

Because even though I test drove a new car today, I was really test driving a new life.

I liked the image of myself behind the wheel in the shiny, new vehicle. You see, I’ve grown embarrassed to be seen with the old and unkempt one. The new car felt like a better reflection of me. I enjoyed the fact that this car had no memories, no past. No baggage. It was as though I could start fresh just by buying a new vehicle. I made the promise to keep up with new one, to attend to dirt and grime along with the recommended oil changes and tire rotations.

New is intoxicating.

And not just for cars.

Our relationships can take on a sense of dissatisfaction just as easily as an old car. Any relationship that has traveled the miles will carry the marks of past fights or disappointments. An established relationship reminds you of your shortcomings and your mistakes. If you fail to take care of your marriage, it will show its age just as with any vehicle.

The hint of a new relationship is just as alluring as the pull of a new car. It’s why people so often leave established relationships for someone they just met. The routine spouse cannot compete against the shiny new showroom model that is full of promise and potential. A new partner does not yet know anything we choose not to reveal; we can pretend to be the airbrushed versions of ourselves. The everyday is replaced with the excitement of the unfamiliar.

It’s hard to compete against beginnings.

They hold a special power. They allow us to dream and explore, often through a land of make-believe.

Because the thing about beginnings is that they cannot last. Just as that new car loses value as its driven off the lot, a new affair loses its luster as soon as the blinding dust of lust has dispersed and reality intrudes into fantasy. The strength of the appeal of the new is found in its novelty. And nothing stays novel for long.

I test drove a new car today. But then I returned home to my old (usually) faithful with the commitment of having her oil changed this weekend followed by a good cleaning. Because sometimes the best thing you can do is ignore the lure of the new and take care of what you have.

At least until she leaves me stranded again. At which point, I’ll set her up with my mechanic and run off with a new model. I can only take so much:)

 

Confirmation Bias in Marriage

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Election season has now reached a fervent peak around the country. My weekly runs take me by countless yards with campaign signs stabbed in their soil as though the occupants are laying claim to virgin land. The radio ads cause whiplash, with one party’s claims following the other, blaring rhetoric in an attempt to sway votes at the last minute.

There’s a reason that political campaigns are so heavy-handed and in-your-face. They are up against an enormous hurdle in their attempt to change our minds.

The politicians are trying to overcome our confirmation bias.

Confirmation bias is an innate trait that we all possess to varying degrees. It states that we have a tendency to seek out information that corroborates our beliefs. It says that we are rarely neutral researchers in life, rather we form hypotheses and then seek out confirmation that our conclusions are correct.

In other words, we look for proof that our opinions are true and we actively ignore or discredit information that threatens our beliefs.

In the political arena, we gravitate towards legislators that echo our conclusions about civic matters. We support those that tell us that we are right and those that threaten our views are often met with intense disdain.

But confirmation bias doesn’t just exist in the poll booths. It’s everywhere. It’s one of the reasons that scientific papers are peer reviewed. It contributes to teachers not grading their own students’ high stake tests. It influences dating when we gravitate towards those that reflect back our own principles. If we believe we are fat, we see the flesh above the waistline; if we believe we are skinny, we focus on the exposed bone structure. It’s why we respond differently to someone wearing a suit than someone whose underwear is exposed above sagging jeans. Bias is behind the success of optical illusions and Hollywood movies. Bias is everywhere.

We see what we want to see.

Confirmation bias is powerful. Even with relatively mundane matters, it still drives down to our core self. Our egos don’t like to be told they’re wrong. Confirmation bias can lead to elaborate choreography to try to shore up our beliefs and the construction of huge blinders to avoid the recognition of anything that threatens our opinions.

Part of the power of confirmation bias is our inability to recognize it. Countless studies have demonstrated that even when people protest that they are acting without bias, that they still gravitate towards confirming information. It operates below our level of cognition and influences every encounter.

So what does confirmation bias have to do with marriage?

Everything.

Because you have a mental construct of your marriage. Of your spouse. Of your relationship and roles. And whether you are aware of it or not, you seek information that substantiates these conclusions while ignoring data that doesn’t align.

It’s one of the reasons that people (myself included) can be blindsided by divorce or infidelity. We believe that our spouse is trustworthy, and we are biased towards evidence that supports our belief. Because if we allow ourselves to see the other data, it not only threatens our view of our spouse, but also of ourselves. After all, if we were wrong about that, what else might we be wrong about?

It’s a slippery slope that’s scary to tread. So we don’t.

We see what we want to see.

Confirmation bias in marriage can also work the other way. If a spouse has concluded that the marriage is garbage or his or her partner is awful, evidence will be mounted to substantiate the claim. One episode of nagging or stonewalling will be added to the tally, while days or months of good behavior is tacitly ignored as a case is built against the spouse.

We see what we want to see.

Given that confirmation bias is innate and subconscious, can we learn to be nonpartisan in our views of the world? Can we learn to see what is and not only what we believe?

Yes and no.

The biggest weapon against confirmation bias is the knowledge that it exists and the acceptance that you are not immune to its siren’s call. Because when you find yourself defensively proclaiming that you have considered all of the information, it’s a good sign that you haven’t. In fact, the more emotional you are about a situation, the more likely it is that confirmation bias is present. Strive to release the ego that says that you can’t be controlled by bias and you will be more likely to recognize its influence.

Confirmation bias also helps to regulate fear. It provides an illusion of certainty and predictability. In order to consider other views, you first have to be willing to let go of the security blanket your bias provides. It comes down to trusting in your own strength and resiliency.

Welcome situations that provide new perspectives. Observe loved ones in interactions with new people or circumstances and try to see them with fresh eyes. Invite others to share their viewpoints and work to consider that they may be accurate in their conclusions. Even if it threatens your beliefs. Especially if it threatens your beliefs.

Ultimately, it is impossible to be completely impartial in every situation. We believe the person we spend the most time with – ourselves. And we see what we want to see.

eyes