I was only 14 when I walked through his door for the first time and called his home my own. It was not by force, nor pre-arranged. It was because at 14, before I knew myself—who I was, who I would become—I knew I was in love with this man, and I most certainly did. Even my now adult heart knows it was love; perhaps a little naïve, but no doubt. A year ago, I watched him drove away and I closed the door behind him for the last time. I was 37. For 23 years, I loved this man. We had 4 children. You may ask, “If there was so much love, why did your marriage end?” I can tell you from my experience and observations of close friends whom too have gone through a divorce, often times, it is not a lack of love, but a lack of tolerance. When “I’m sorry” has become just another word, and forgiveness becomes foreign, tolerance becomes a very heavy burden.
In my years as an adult, I’ve come to learn that people are quick to make conclusions and quick to blame and shame. They are also quick to tell you how you should now conduct yourself as a divorced woman, or how others will now see you in belittling light. So when we made that decision to go our separate ways, we only shared our decision with our trusted circle—our children, parents, siblings and closest friends. Regardless what reasons or straw that broke the camel’s back, we deserved to grieve our loss in private. To process our thoughts and re-purpose our lives without an audience to pick and poke at our feet when they have not walked a mile in our shoes. And we owe that to ourselves to pick up again with a clear conscience, because when a marriage comes to an end, it’s not because you’ve failed. It is not because you’ve not done enough, or that you were not enough. Most times, it’s because two people grew apart and can no longer mend the bond they once had—it’s why it’s called, irreconcilable differences.
It’s Okay
And just because you made a decision, it doesn’t immediately solve all problems. But, it’s a start. It’s okay to lie down and pull the covers over your head. By doing so, it does not mean you’re weak. It does not mean you’ve been defeated. You need this moment to reflect, restore and tend to your wounds. Accepting the emotions that comes with a divorce is a natural part of your healing process. Because until you can accept—yes, this happened, and I’m hurting (it’s supposed to hurt), but I will eventually get through this—you will continue to battle with yourself.
Now of course, everyone has their own way of processing emotions. The moment my marriage ended, I didn’t cry. I recalled something my uncle said 15 years ago when my ex-husband and I split up for the first time. He said, “Cua, koj rov qab mus nrog vauv nyob, vim hnub no koj tseem quaj. Yog txog hnub twg koj tsis quaj lawm ces, hnub ntawm koj mam paub tias tsis rov los tau (Return to be with your husband because you’re still in tears. If the day comes when you’re no longer crying, than you’ll know you won’t need to go back).” Going back to what I said about tolerance…I didn’t cry because a part of me was relieved it was over. I no longer had to tolerate the element of my marriage that made me unhappy. I didn’t cry. I couldn’t cry…yet. It took me two months from the second he left for me to finally accept—this is really it. It was then that I crawled into my bed, hid in my pillow fort, pull the covers over my head and just let all my emotions go. I did that for 3 months. Prior to that moment, I think I was trying to be strong, or perhaps it hadn’t quite hit me yet. Nonetheless, I finally accepted my circumstances. Accepting it does not make it less painful. But, accepting it is giving me permission to no longer fight it. There is no timeline to a grieving period, so take your time to grieve.
When I finally surfaced from my covers and pillow fort, I came upon a quote…
― Ijeoma Umebinyuo
Starting Over
I didn’t know exactly how I was going to start, but I knew I wasn’t going to stop. I’ve always been a planner. It’s what I do professionally. So I did what I knew best. I planned. I knew I no longer wanted to live where I was living, so I moved. I packed up and for the first time, I moved all by myself to a new city I had never lived in before. Nor did I know anyone there. Was I scared? Yes. I was terrified. But I was more terrified if I didn’t do anything. My youngest daughters (twins) had just moved away to Colorado for college. My son went up north to spend his summer with his cousins. For two months, I lived alone for the first time. I also started my own business, and for the first time, I didn’t have someone to doubt me, but myself. And for the first time in 23 years, I was single. But, I did not feel alone. I had my sisterhood. I knew that when I needed focus and clarity, I had Annie. When I needed energy and affirmation, I had Vilay. And when I needed comfort and a good cry, I had my best friend Bao, who have known me long before when I was just me—not a wife or a mother. As women, we need our sisterhood.
If you ever find yourself in this stage of your life, know that you are not alone. That it’s okay to be scared, because fear is a part of what makes us human. It is nature’s way of telling us, “get up and do something about it.” And while you are in this stage of your life, take advantage of it and spend some time with yourself. Go out and enjoy a nice dinner alone. Go for a walk, watch a sunset, eat some ice cream and embrace the moment of standing on your own, because even though a divorce was the end of one chapter, it’s also the beginning of a new chapter you are empowered to write anyway you choose. So find your fuel, let it burn, and then let it drive you in whichever direction your heart takes you. You deserve it! You are worth it!