Divorced

Divorce

In the world I grew up in, it’s a four-letter word. It represents a failure to fulfill your holy vows before god and the world. Although the churches I attended sort of accepted the reality of it, it certainly represented breaking the divine plan. Marriage is for life. That’s certainly how I understood it.

But what if it’s not always? 

What if divorce is the best, most natural option for a couple that has grown apart, or changed such that they are no longer able to make a life together? Or for someone in an abusive situation? Should people be bound together for life regardless of the circumstances?

I’ve sat through many a sermon and heard many messages exhorting spouses to take this or that action in order to maintain the intimacy and vitality of their marriage. The underlying idea is always that with enough effort, you can always find a way to stay together. I thought so myself.

Until we couldn’t anymore.

I didn’t ever expect to find myself divorced. Yet here I am. Did I fail? Am I a failure?

I’m not going to say that I could not have done things better in my marriage. I made plenty of mistakes and was far from the “perfect” spouse. But did I fail at marriage? That’s the message I get from those christians who insist that marriage is for life, regardless of circumstances. Intentionally or not there’s a good amount of self-righteousness concerning divorcees. After all, if we’d just done MORE to maintain our relationship, we’d still be together, like the other couples around us in the church. Our failure is our fault.

Except it’s not. I don’t blame my ex for our divorce. I don’t blame myself either, though I do still wrestle with guilt because of this ridiculous baggage that was loaded on me all these years. The reality is that as I came to accept myself, my ex recognized that she could not be true to herself and remain with me, and I could not stifle myself to remain with her.  Some would say we should have just stuck it out, found a way to compromise and make it work. One person very close to both of us blamed my ex for not doing so, even before they knew the reasons why we were getting divorced. By saying this, this person caused even deeper hurt than we were already dealing with. Sticking it out would have meant one or both of us forcing ourselves to be what we are not, and that’s not healthy.

Divorce has made me a bit(?) cynical. I have a hard time not rolling my eyes when I hear people speak about finding the love of their lives, the one they will spend forever with. I used to think that too. It’s not that I don’t wish them well, it’s just hard for me to not think that this idea of a single, lifelong love isn’t hopelessly naïve. How much heartache is caused by perpetuating the idea that there’s ONE person out there for us and, when we find them, we’ll remain together for life? I apologize to all who are still in that blissful stage of love, or anticipation of love. I do hope it works for you. Really I do.

It’s not that I’ve given up on love. I do still hope that I too, will again find love. I’m not necessarily looking for or expecting someone with whom I’ll spend the rest of my life. I wouldn’t be opposed to that, but I don’t think I want it to be a precondition going in. I want there to be the complete freedom to choose day by day that we want to be together and, if we realize that our time together has come to an end, to be able to release one another freely. Maybe that’s naïve too… I am still a romantic. I’m just a bit more jaded than I used to be.

Divorced is not a label I love wearing. It still has such negative connotations in our society and even in my own mind because of how I was taught all my life. But it does describe an aspect of who I am. I loved deeply, but that love came to an end and it was time for both of us to move on. I can wallow in feelings of guilt and failure, or I can find healing and wholeness and open myself up to new relationships and new possibilities. I’m striving to do the latter, because I am not a failure.