Divorce Loss Series Finale: Nothing Left to Lose

Tara/ January 2, 2021/ DIVORCE LOSS 7 - NOTHING LEFT

Here we are – at the end of a long year. That’s what I’ve said every year since my divorce. But this year is different, and it’s not because of the pandemic. It’s different, because I am finally ready to say I have healed. I have grown. I have evolved. I’m ready to put the loss of my past behind me.

With that said, I can’t let you keep reading without first acknowledging the terrible year that so many have experienced because of the pandemic. And Lord knows, I would never want to minimize the loss of others or imply that divorce is harder than death. My hope is that with this post, all people who have experienced loss can reflect on my words with hope and inspiration – to find joy in spite of loss and to take back your life when it becomes derailed – because really, it’s the only life we have.

What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

Mary Oliver

I need to start with a recap of the loss I’ve experienced since leaving my husband of 17 years, four and a half years ago: my family, my friends, my in-laws, my house, my security and my mind. Yes, at times it has felt like there was nothing left to lose. But now it feels like this: FREEDOM.

Some of those losses were expected and some are what you would call the “unintended consequences” of divorce. This blog has been the space where I have over-shared about the sadness brought on by both types – and about the surprise I felt at my own sadness around the deliberate choice to divorce, as well as the astonishment I felt at the abandonment of my in-laws and friends. Some may call that naivete. I call it forked up.

Yes, I have shared – and for those of you who don’t agree with my over-sharing, consider this: I’ve been wishing, hoping, waiting and working to save these relationships since realizing that my divorce had too become a textbook version of hostility. Furthermore, I have communicated my sadness and my wish to mend all of those relationships. I’ve made my effort, so in case you think this whole series was just an outlet for me to bitch and moan without actually doing anything about it, you’re wrong.

I let the dust settle after my divorce before I made any conclusions – and before I wrote a single word. With each story of loss that was published, the right amount of time had passed when the emotion was easy to recall, but it wasn’t sitting in the back of my throat strangling me to get out. Still, having to relive the loss of each story came with anxiety and sleepless nights. Especially during the days leading up to publishing the stories, I would be on edge. It was uncomfortable knowing people would finally understand how I felt. But then on publishing day, the anxiety and the stress were gone – in an instant, those losses were behind me. And that’s why I write – that’s why I share.

I’ve been asked what it is I’m looking for by writing this loss series. Is it sympathy, I was asked? It might seem like this blog and the loss series specifically, point to a need for sympathy. I can honestly tell you that I’m not looking for sympathy. Validation, maybe. If I was looking for sympathy, that would negate and minimize the thought and effort I’ve put into choosing divorce. Sympathy is appropriate when someone has found herself in a situation she didn’t choose. I chose this path. I don’t want sympathy for something I’ve chosen with intention and worked hard to overcome; I just want to be understood. That’s validation. Please don’t feel sorry for me. Support me, yes. Love me. Learn from my experience. Reach out to me. Talk to me about it all. But, don’t feel sorry for me. I’m too proud of all I have worked for to ask for your pity.

Life is not without its challenges – one of mine has been divorce. I don’t have to tell you that life is also full of hard lessons. It’s by learning these lessons that we grow. And it’s in the contrast where we find beauty. It takes hard work to appreciate time off. It takes winter to appreciate spring. It takes a bad relationship to appreciate a good one. For me, it took loss to gain perspective – and perspective I have found. If I hadn’t been in such a state of unhappiness in my marriage, I would not have been motivated to make a change. If I had not mourned my marriage so intensely, I would not have healed properly. In my case, it took sadness to find joy.

I’m not suggesting that we all forget what has been lost. I will always feel a gut punch around the holidays when I think about how things “should have been.” And I will never be able to hear that “one song” without thinking things could have turned out differently for me – but I can now reflect on my former life with appreciation. During most of these moments, I rejoice at my courage. I embrace the total package of what life has to offer, both joy and sadness. All is well over here. I’m gonna be fine – this I know to be true. And the kids? They’re fine too; they are the most emotionally intelligent and evolved teenagers I’ve ever known. They’re that way, in part because they’ve had to face adversity. And you guys should see my house! It’s absolutely adorable.

The losses I’ve talked about in this series were not written in order of importance, but the posts were timely nonetheless. Time for closure. I couldn’t have written about losing friends until I knew they were gone. Same with the in-laws. Most importantly, the birth of this entire blog happened as a result of the final realization that I am in fact, the estranged ex-wife. (And what an incredible blessing this blog has been for me.) It took three years, and three sincere apologies to accept that title. At least for the foreseeable future, I must be comfortable in this uncomfortable role. Here’s what it looks like to be comfortable in an uncomfortable situation: it looks like setting intentions, it looks like showing up for the people I love, it looks making lemonade from lemons.

Four years of sadness and heartbreaking stories of loss were necessary to set the stage for the very important message in this series finale. Here it goes…

I had to lose my old self in order to find my new self. All of this loss has brought me to a really awesome place in my life where there’s an unlimited amount to discover: joy, peace, humility, perspective, love and the most important discovery – me. I can’t say I’ve been in this place before, and that’s a beautiful thing. As a matter of fact, the possibilities are overwhelming. I get to recreate my life. I get to start over, with no expectations or timelines. I don’t have to get married by a certain age, or even at all. I don’t have to keep up with the Joneses and I don’t have to care what people think (although I’m still working on that one.) I can choose the people I spend time with, because my relationships are not prescribed by proximity or association. I don’t have to live up to a false image of perfection. And why would I want to be perfect anyway when there’s so much beauty to be found in imperfection? Yes, my life can be a circus. Some days I’m hanging upside down by the trapeze or jumping through hoops. Other days I’m taming the lion. On occasion I’m the clown, trying like hell to put on a happy face. It’s my bohemian circus, and it’s a beautiful one.

I’ve lost a lot; I’ve sacrificed a lot; and for what you ask? It was for this freedom I speak of: I’m free to be the parent I want to be; I’m free to be the friend I want to be; I’m free to love whomever I want; I’m free to see the world in a positive way; and I’m free to load the dishwasher how I want. Basically, I’m free to do whatever the fuck I want to do. Most importantly, and not to be forgotten, I am free from negativity and condescension.

It’s not that my old house or the old relationships weren’t important to me. I loved them all with my whole heart and soul. I even loved the institution of marriage. But I didn’t love them all more than I love myself or my kids. I thought I could have it all and I was wrong. It wasn’t the first time I’ve been wrong and it won’t be the last. And that’s okay.

My final piece of advice in this series is this: if you’re thinking of divorce, make certain that you’re 100% sure about your decision. And then go back and double check with yourself again – then one more time. Sleep on it for several weeks or months and check your gut again – because when you find yourself alone on Christmas Day four years later, still trying to figure out how the hell your life turned out this way, you’ll need to pull out all of the reminders about why you left your old life behind. You will need to be confident, that despite all of the heartache, you made the only decision you could. And if you’re lucky like I am, you will still know, without a doubt, that you did what you had to do. It also helps to have documented proof: a journal is good. It might just be me, but I could never remember details of certain situations or things that would leave me thinking “who the fuck does that.” So yeah, my journals have been very important in helping me remember all the hard stuff. That documentation was critical in reminding me why I walked away from the only dream I ever had.

And for those of you who are happily married and just like to read my blog for shits and giggles, be kind to your divorced family and friends. Be a good in-law and a good friend. Listen with patience as they work through some really hard shit – even if it takes several years. Try to be empathetic, and whatever you do, don’t abandon them. If you’re the ex, at least be a good one – and don’t be a dick.

I almost ended this post with “Godspeed,” because it sounds like something that should be said at the end of a post like this – but I’m not abiding by the old rules anymore, so I leave you with this:

Embrace all of what life has to offer: feel all the feels and learn all the lessons. Face change with courage. Find comfort in discomfort. You may need to dig deep to discover your inner rebel. She is your friend, for she is a fierce beauty. Freedom is power. Fuck societal rules. And just for fun, fuck the patriarchy too. Mic drop.

Where there is ruin, there is hope for a treasure.

Rumi