I can recognize that expression. It’s the kind of look I might give something I wish to ignore – a reaction reserved for uncomfortable or painful situations I cannot comprehend. It conveys a silent message: “I thought I knew you.” It’s akin to the gaze someone might cast upon a ghost. Yet, I never anticipated receiving such a look from those I had emotionally invested in for years, regardless of my marriage. These were individuals with whom I shared laughter, sorrow, joy, tears, and life experiences. I’m referring to you, my “former” circle.
Divorce carries a stigma, particularly for those who initiate it. This is especially true when there hasn’t been infidelity or abuse (let that sink in; these are often seen as justifications for such a decision). For those who haven’t traversed the turbulent waters of divorce, consider yourselves fortunate. It’s a harrowing journey, one that drains you emotionally and can feel like a relentless storm that takes on a life of its own. From my experience, it was a profound pit of heartbreak, shattered trust, and genuine despair.
Entering into my marriage, I didn’t foresee this outcome. No one in their right mind would willingly choose such a path! Like most, I entered with bright hopes, unwavering faith in love, and a heartfelt wish for lasting togetherness. I envisioned a future of growing together in a strong, nurturing partnership. I clung to that hope for years.
Before I delve deeper, let me clarify: I am not advocating for divorce. However, sometimes, it becomes the only viable route to restore peace and safeguard one’s mental and emotional health. Divorce can be the necessary choice to prevent a lifetime of hurt, not just for yourself but potentially for your children.
The emotions surrounding divorce are complex. Initially, I viewed it through a Christian lens, recognizing the firm belief that God despises divorce. I have no doubt He does; after all, He loves us and understands the pain it inflicts on both partners. The collateral damage is real and extensive. Divorce is painful for everyone involved, including both the one who initiates and the one who doesn’t. Yes, both parties endure suffering – from the moment you reach the breaking point to the days you find yourself in a new life stage, grappling with lost parts of your identity.
Even after removing yourself from a toxic situation, the void that remains is daunting. You must sever the ties of who you were before realizing that your partner wasn’t willing to engage in a healthy way. Everything feels different. We often grow accustomed to discomfort, justifying our reasons for staying in unfulfilling situations, often to appease others – those who may not even belong in our lives. I recently came across a quote that resonated with me:
“Take a plate and smash it on the ground.”
When asked if it broke, the answer is yes. When told to apologize, you say sorry. But can it ever return to its original state? No. This struck a chord with me.
With that said, I urge you to pause before casting judgment, alienating, or coldly ignoring those who initiated a divorce. Remember: this was not your journey. This was not your marriage. Your emotional and mental well-being was not at stake. You didn’t bear the burden of heartbreak, deceit, or the daily struggles of trust and resentment. This wasn’t your pain to carry or your life that shattered into unrecognizable pieces.
You weren’t the one deceived when convenient or manipulated day in and day out. You weren’t the one wrestling with a partner’s demons or facing the loneliness of being unprioritized in a relationship. This was not your life’s narrative – it was mine. Let that sink in.
I apologize if my divorce surprised you. Too often, we fail to recognize the depths of others’ pain, remaining absorbed in our own experiences. I regret if it created uncomfortable conversations with your children, though I can only imagine how challenging it is to explain it to mine. I’m sorry if it struck a nerve regarding issues you might be tolerating in your own relationship. But please remember – only you know your threshold for pain; do not presume to understand mine.
I sympathize with you if the “offender” in this scenario is your son, brother, or friend. It’s painful to witness, and I share that pain. I invested 14 years in my marriage, only to watch it dissolve piece by piece. I apologize that I couldn’t contort myself into a painful existence just to keep the relationship intact. I realized that my mental health matters – I am, after all, a human being with feelings, not a receptacle for someone’s toxicity.
I was a giver married to a taker, an optimist bound to someone with a negative outlook on life. I was a naïve 21-year-old who hoped for growth and partnership, only to discover an unwillingness to change. I was a mother who had to take decisive action to ensure my child’s well-being, realizing that drastic measures were necessary to prevent neglect in their father’s role. I am a real person with a heart that is genuinely broken.
Over time, I began to feel unworthy of love, compassion, or respect. I distanced myself from a reality that was too painful to accept. I learned to cope with disappointments by setting my expectations for my partner at zero. Then one day, I woke up to find myself utterly disconnected from my life. That moment was transformative.
There’s a saying: “Be careful what you tolerate; you teach others how to treat you.” It rings true. I let someone nearly destroy me, but you did not share that experience. You didn’t live through my pain – I did.
So, when you see me at events, during exchanges with children, or simply trying to navigate my new reality, please extend some compassion. Remember, while this divorce is painful, it’s mine, not yours.
Recall all the countless nights spent with your children, the holidays, and family gatherings we cherished. I am not a ghost or a villain; I am not your enemy. I have loved you, supported you, and invested in you. I am still the same person, just separated from something that hurt me for far too long. That “look” you give me carries weight. It resonates with me, as does your coldness and silent judgment.
Congratulations, you’ve managed to unravel yet another relationship I valued greatly. It causes me to question your investment in our bond. Frankly, it hurts, and I’ve experienced enough pain to last a lifetime. I don’t need additional hurt from you. Remember, even if I sought this divorce, I never sought the treatment that led me here.
So, the next time you feel inclined to judge or cast that look toward me, keep in mind: just because a decision is painful doesn’t mean it’s the wrong one. Until you’ve walked my path, lived my life, or felt my suffering, you can’t truly understand my journey. But know this: should you ever face a chapter resembling mine, I won’t cast that look your way. Because I know what it’s like to live it.
Summary
This reflection addresses those who have distanced themselves after my divorce, emphasizing that the experience was mine alone. Divorce carries significant emotional weight, and while it may be easy to pass judgment from the outside, true understanding requires empathy and acknowledgment of another’s struggles. I urge friends and family to remember our shared history and the pain of separation, recognizing that my journey is not theirs to judge.