The Most Difficult Part of a Second Marriage

Posted on by stilllearning2b

One of the most difficult aspects of a second marriage is not inviting your first spouse into the union.

Not literally, unless you’re into that sort of thing and you have a California king filling your master bedroom, but emotionally. My ex-husband committed literal bigamy. I have been guilty in my new marriage of practicing emotional bigamy, of listening to the past and allowing its whispers to drive my responses in the present.

Early last fall, my new husband and I purchased a home. From the beginning, he expressed an interest in converting the partial basement to a small home theater. His intention? A space for us to enjoy together and share with friends. My reaction? Complete and utter panic. Rational? Not in the least. But based on experience and rooted in fear. Click here to read the rest.

Divorce Tool Box

Posted on by stilllearning2b

In my second year of college, I took a psychology of grief class. I signed up because I needed another psych credit but also to help me understand my own experiences at that point with grief and loss. One of the first images in the textbook was the Holmes-Rahe Stress Inventory, a scale that quantifies stressful life events with a score of 1-100. I was no stranger to the instrument; my counselor mom had dozens of copies (and versions) in the books that were scattered about the house. But that day, perhaps bored with the dry lecture, I looked at the scale differently. I wondered what experiences listed on the page I would have. I feared the big one, the 100 point Death of a Spouse. In my mind, that was the only item on the list that would destroy me. The others seemed inconceivable or inconsequential.

A brief note here – Some versions of the scale include death of a child, obviously near the top. This particular one did not, a question I raised with my professor on that day.

I noted that divorce was listed as second only to death of a spouse with a score of 73. That didn’t make sense to me. Perhaps because I thought it would never happen to me (I was three years in to the relationship with my now ex husband at that point and I could not fathom one or both of us choosing to end it), but I just couldn’t understand what could be so devastating about divorce.

I guess the universe wanted to show me I was wrong.

Using the scale that was in my textbook that day, I faced:

73 divorce

53 personal illness

44 major behavior change in spouse

39 new family members

38 financial hardship

30 foreclosure

29 in-law problems

29 change in habits

25 housing change

19 change in recreation

16 change in sleep

15 change in eating

15 change in family get togethers

For a grand total of 425 points. The sirens start to go off at 300 points. And, if you add infidelity, most scales place that around an 81, which would raise my total to a lofty 506. I probably should have been escorted into a padded room at that point. I would also add a few more points for a tsunami divorce, which is somewhere between a death and a divorce. I looked, they haven’t studied the impact of bigamy. I hope that they never need to.

What the scale in my textbook didn’t make clear is that there is no life stone unturned when it comes to divorce. It. changes. everything.

And change, especially unwanted and unexpected change, is stressful.

If there’s ever a time in life when you have to use everything you have at your disposal, it’s divorce.

You can inventory your stress and tally up your debits but you can also inventory your personal tool box and count up your implements of healing.

Here’s what I had in my Divorce Tool Box. Maybe yours looks a little different.

The Extra Battery – Fortitude

There’s no way around it. Divorce is draining. It goes on and on. And on. Just when you think the struggle is over, something will pop up and make you go again. A huge part of getting through is simply getting through, having the ability to persist even when the path is tough. So, pack an extra battery. Hell, pack two:)

The Hammer – Determination

It’s easy to fall apart in divorce. You feel beat down and the instinct may be to roll over and play dead. There is certainly time for acceptance, but there is also time for determination. If you want a better life, you have to build it. Pick up that hammer and make it happen. Just look out for your thumb!

The Tape Measure – Attention

There are a ton of details in divorce. Personally, I think everyone who has experiences it should qualify as a paralegal. There will be times when you have to push the grief and anger aside, pull out the tape measure and pay attention to every detail in every document. Remember, measure twice, cut once. Make sure you know what you’re signing.

The Level – Balance

It’s easy for the divorce to overwhelm your life until it becomes your entire life. Needless to say, that’s not healthy (or much fun). The level in your tool box is to remind you to find balance. Or to check to see if that picture you hung where the wedding photo once was is level:)

The Spackle – Humility

You’ll screw up. You’ll create a hole where there wasn’t supposed to be one. You’l inadvertently bang up someone else as you try to aim at your ex. When you reach for the spackle, you admit that you made a mistake and show that you’re trying to repair it. If you can, buy the spackle that starts pink and dries white. That way you know when your mistakes are corrected:)

The Business Card – Assistance

You can’t do it all. When you’re overwhelmed or stuck, reach for that business card with the name and number of an expert. Call them. And then listen to them. Don’t let your ego get in the way of your healing.

The Liquid Nails – Confidence

You will have to make some big decisions. Do it with confidence. Pull out the permanent adhesive and believe in your decision. Deep down, you know what’s best for you. Make it stick.

The Saw – Humor

When it all starts to overwhelm, reach for the saw and cut it down to size. There’s nothing like a little laughter to put everything into perspective.

That’s my tool box. What’s in yours?

Courage

Posted on by stilllearning2b

So much of it comes down to courage, doesn’t it?

 

The text from my ex husband read, “I’m sorry to be such a coward leaving you this way.”

That sentence contained the only truth he uttered.

He was a coward, choosing to hide his actions behind lies and then disappear without a conversation.

He was a coward, letting his fears keep him from asking for help or revealing his thoughts.

He was a coward.

But you know what?

So was I.

I never lied.

I never hid my actions.

But I still listened to fear and let it wrap me in its binds.

I was afraid of confrontation. In fact, one of the aspects of my first marriage that I enjoyed is that we rarely ever had confrontation. No wonder. He would lie and I would avoid.

I preferred to avoid anything ugly rather than face it head on. This made me all-too-willing to believe what he told me (Although, in my defense, nobody else knew he was lying either. He was damn good.).

I was so afraid of losing him that I was too cowardly to even consider it becoming a reality.

As though by not looking under the bed, the monster didn’t exist.

Perhaps the greatest gift I received from the end of the marriage was the gift of courage. It wasn’t unlike the journey the lion took to the great wizard of Oz. The cowardly one learned the wizard was an illusion but that courage could be built from within (with a little help from a liquid placebo). And that simply by tackling the journey (with the help of a few friends, of course), he found the bravery he always had and learned that it was characterized by action even in the face of fear.

Courage doesn’t mean you don’t hear fear. It means you don’t listen to everything it was to say.

Courage doesn’t mean that you’re immune to fear. It means it doesn’t paralyze you.

Courage doesn’t mean that you never doubt. It means that you trust yourself enough to make it through.

 

There were obviously many characteristics I considered critical in a second husband.

But one of the most important qualities I looked for was courage.

I needed to know that he would face any potential problems rather than hide.

I needed to know that he would speak the truth even if it was difficult.

And I needed to know that I could do the same.

 

So much comes down to courage.

The courage to see the truth.

The courage to speak the truth.

The courage to trust the truth.

The courage to face the truth.

And to know that it will be okay.

Even if you’re scared.

 

 

 

Turn Away

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I frequently come across posts or emails written by people in the early aftermath of infidelity. The writings are often angry. Powerfully so, the words slashing across the screen like a serrated blade. You can feel the power, the fury. Each sentence an explosion of outrage towards the unfaithful partner, the affair partner and even circumstances in general.

When I encounter these posts, I want to turn my head in horror.

Not because of the writer.

But because of myself.

I recognize myself in those outbursts, those paragraphs of wrath-tinged keening.

I recollect responding in that same manner. With that same rage blinding my sight and deafening my ears.

I identify with the deep upswell of anger formed by betrayal and a sense of unfairness.

And I want to turn away.

I don’t want to remember that part of myself.

I don’t want to perhaps catch a glimpse of residual fury tucked away.

I don’t want to admit the power that anger held over me.

I see those posts and I remember my early journals, the pen digging deep trenches into the paper, pretending it was gouging flesh from his face. All I wanted to do was to lash out, to make him experience just a fraction of the pain he had inflicted upon me. It was ugly. And it made me ugly.

And I don’t like to face that, to remember the vileness of the anger, any potential for compassion forced out by blind indignation. I don’t like admitting that I wanted to respond to my pain by creating pain in someone else.

And so I want to turn my head. To deny that I once felt that same way.

But that’s becoming what I promised I wouldn’t – someone who writes about divorce only from the scrubbed and polished perspective of the other side.

I want to turn my head in horror.

 

But that’s not honest.

The horror is real.

The anger is real.

And facing it is the only way to lessen its grip.

So I read. And I remember. And I try to reach out.

Because anger is simply pain screaming to be heard.

The Grass Isn’t Greener

Posted on by stilllearning2b
grass isn't greener

greener

For some reason I have been receiving quite a few messages lately from people who are looking for my validation of their decision to a) have an affair, b) continue an affair, c) abandon their unsuspecting spouse or d) all of the above.

Umm…do they realize who they’re messaging? Do they honestly expect that I’m going to give them a stamp of approval and send them on their merry, marriage-detroying ways? I mean, yes, I’m in a better place than I’ve ever been after facing my husband’s infidelity and abandonment, but that doesn’t mean I endorse that as a life-affirming event. Honestly, I would have preferred a cruise.

I usually take a little time to breathe before composing my responses. Ultimately, I want to ensure that I’m not coming from a place of my personal experience or reacting defensively. After all, even though these folks are looking for approval, they may also be asking for help. And there’s a chance that what I say may register.

There are some common themes in all of the messages I receive in this category. Many all tell me that their spouse would be better off without them. They all speak of interest in another man or woman. And perhaps most telling, they all seem hesitant to speak to their spouse.

And most of all, the attention is focused outside of the marriage.

Well, then, it’s no wonder the marriage is floundering. How can you expect a marriage to flourish when your efforts are spent elsewhere? Before you diagnose your marriage with a fatal case of failure to thrive, feed it. Nurture it. Give your marriage the attention you’re giving your escape plans.

Your intentions drive your attentions. If you’re committed to leaving, your focus will be on your exit.

So, before you call it quits, make staying your intention. At least for a while.

Now, attention is no Miracle Grow. Your marriage may have fatal defects or may have been starved for too long to ever thrive. But, at least give it a try before you leave it for dead.

One person asked me if he owed it to his wife to stay.

No. That’s just a breeding ground for resentment and contempt.

But he does owe it to his wife to at least try to nurture the marriage before making the decision. He does owe it to his wife to end things in a kind and mature manner, if it comes to that. And, he does owe it to his wife to not use her for excuse or blame.

The grass isn’t greener on the other side. It’s greener where you water it.

So, stop blaming your spouse, stop pretending that you’re doing this to help him or her and pick up the damn watering can and water your marriage.

Okay, public service announcement over. Now back to our regularly scheduled program:)