Oct
24
Well, it is Fall. If you live in a place with seasons, maybe you are also seeing the leaves turning and noticing the crispness in the air and feeling the general lurking sense that somewhere somehow there is something pumpkin-themed near you. I am soaking up all the orange-red-brown beauty everywhere while also being full-on whammied by memories of taking kids to pumpkin patches and trick-or-treating and watching scary movies as a family on Halloween night.
I’m constantly reminding myself that it won’t always feel like this, but I suppose there always will be an ache for what was. But I hope it is like the other difficult milestones and seasons, like when Riley first left for college, or when sweet Callie passed. Those things felt like SO much at first, TOO much you might say, and then of course time went on and the way I felt changed. Nothing was forgotten, but everything became more manageable. That’s what I am hoping for in this first year of my divorce and leaving the family home: it will all become more manageable.
I must say it does feel a bit unfair that the holidays are barreling forward full steam. Can I maybe get a hot second here, I find myself thinking, although it’s been a second, it’s been two full months since I moved out, which isn’t long enough to fully adjust to this new normal but long enough be on my way. It’s been a huge amount of change top to bottom and I think I have some good footing, enough to have put up some Halloween decor, including a skeleton in the front yard and a light-up pumpkin peering out the attic window (I am frankly quite proud of myself for participating in any sort of seasonal effort whatsoever). I collaborated with the boys for some Thanksgiving and Christmas plans that center around us, some new traditions that will hopefully feel good and bolster us against the differences of how everything will look this year.
This is fine!!
I am alone enough now that I often think about the differences of shared experiences and whether one state is intrinsically better than the other. Obviously that depends on who you are with, and I guess what I would say is that it is better to be with someone you love and trust and feel loved and trusted in return, someone you feel like you can be your true self with, but failing that, it is much better to be alone. There is such a huge difference between being lonely and being alone.
I do feel lonely sometimes, even with the lovely/chaotic constant companionship of an affectionate and slightly deranged kitten, but not painfully so. I maybe feel lonely in my specific divorce experience, although I know many many other people have gone through the exact circumstances I have. It helps to talk about it, and I do, with trusted friends and a very good therapist. It helps to write about it here, in ways that I hope are authentic but not overly revealing or unfair to other people.
Another helpful mantra of sorts is that it’s okay to feel bad. I mean, it’s that simple sometimes, isn’t it? As much as we scrabble against the sads and bads, it’s so much better to just allow them to wash in and out. I was listening to a Martha Beck book and she was talking about how when you’re in a big catalyst of change, you can say to yourself, I don’t know what the hell is going on, and that’s okay! Yeah dude, I full-on don’t know yet where all of this is going to take me, and that’s okay.
One thing I know that I’m not sure I did a year ago, and that’s that I have my own back. I can truly say to myself, you’ve got this. Not, you know, like in girlboss script — not YOU’VE GOT THIS, GIRL!!! — but like, quietly: you’ve got this. Because whatever it is, I do, because I always do, because it’s okay for things to feel overwhelming, we keep going. It’s okay for things to feel like too much, because once I accept those feelings, I can stop drowning and start swimming.
I think I have also changed how I feel generally about my age. Don’t get me wrong, I do so love to complain about jowls and crackling knees and Kids These Days, but here at 51 I have more of a sense that there’s plenty of life left to live, if I’m lucky. The fact that it doesn’t look like what I thought it would is daunting but also so thrilling. Who knows what adventures and experiences are ahead — I have the freedom for all of it now. I’ve got this.
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Linda – I am in almost exactly the same position as you are–divorcing in the beginning of my 50s and coming to terms with what the rest of life might look like. Enjoying it immensely while at the same time being hit with waves of grief for a variety of things. Thank you for writing so honestly through this stage of life. It’s like I’m sort of reading my own diary written by someone else? I’ve read since before you had Riley and love seeing a new post from you pop up in my feed. you’ve got this.
I, too, changed my life in a major way recently. No divorce, but a cross-country move to a huge city, and it’s been exhilarating and terrifying, just a lot of everything good and bad. I have also found it helpful to let the feelings ebb and flow rather than try to stop them. It leaves possibilities open to feelings and ideas that never occurred to me that I would have. I have always enjoyed your writing, and these recent posts have really resonated with me. Love your Halloween decorations too!
I’ve been reading these all fall and your writing is beautiful.
Last week my sister (who is 32 weeks pregnant) found out her husband is having an affair and wants nothing to do with her and the baby. We are hoping—perhaps unrealistically—that with some mental health treatment he’ll come around to being a dad.
But either way, it helps me to remember that we are only 12 days into this nightmare. And things are going to keep changing and who knows what it will look like in 8 weeks.