Nov

2

Identity in flux

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One thing that extra sucks about divorce is how you take a big hit social status wise, in the sense that there is a married woman with kids is generally perceived to have value regardless of her career/lifestyle status and a divorced woman, well, not so much. I mean, you can tell me otherwise, and I’m sure not EVERYONE thinks that way, but that’s how I observe things here in patriarchyland.

Also, there is the immediate reaction when hearing that I’m divorced, a knee-jerk sort of “ooh, I’m sorry” pity. I feel pity for my own self at times and don’t see this as a bad or wrong thing to say, but how good does pity feel, broooo not good at ALL. And when someone, usually a person who has also experienced divorce, has the more accurate take of “I’m sorry, and also congratulations!!” that does feel better but, you know – it is inherently vulnerable to share something that triggers an acknowledgement of there being complex emotions at hand. Telling someone that you’re recently divorced is sort of like peeling off your clothes: here are my saggy nudie-patootie parts laid bare before you, sorry about that I do realize we literally just met!!

I also don’t know what to say when people then ask what I do. They mean what job do I have, which is a natural human way to begin to categorize someone, like okay she’s not married but she IS a nurse/teacher/barista/rocket scientist, that’s how she fits into the world. But I don’t really have much of a job any more. I was a marketing professional many years ago and then I was a busy freelance writer and also a full time at-home parent and then I was a less busy freelance writer and eventually a hardly-ever-getting-a-gig writer and now my kids are older and I’m more of a personal writer and someone who pursues things like volunteering and horse riding and going for long walks and spending time with my boys whenever possible. I hope that I can continue to find rewarding ways to experience life and maybe I will be lucky enough to have a third career of sorts but the reality is I’m 51, have not been in any kind of traditional work force in years, and much of my freelance industry has dried up thanks to chatbots that are admittedly very useful and also 1) are probably the final death knell for the remaining good parts of the internet and also society at large and 2) can turbo-spooge out pretty much any kind or amount of good-enough copy for zero marketing budget dollars.

This all felt less discomforting to dislose when I was part of a marriage that had evolved to a traditional type of structure but now it’s like: what do I do? Well right now I am mostly just trying to survive and maybe even thrive, is that enough? I’m not sure it does seem like enough, but maybe that’s just the part of me that is ever vigilant for proof that I Am Not Worthy.

I have to choose to believe it is enough, though. I have to believe that a sense of value and belonging comes from within and not something printed on a business card or the number of dollars in my checking account or my status as Ms vs Mrs. or the look of approval on someone else’s face.

I remember reading something somewhere that all of life is the universe’s way of experiencing itself – everything good, everything bad, everything everywhere. I found that soothing, the notion that everything intrinsically has a purpose. Not really in the god moves in mysterious ways sense but just that there is a quiet reason for it all, even horrible inexplicable things. Even dull boring things. Even divorced ladies who live small-impact lives that nevertheless include many moments of love and appreciation and beauty and wonder.

Anyway, I am rambling but 1) this is a BLAWG that’s what it’s FOR and 2) these are just things that are coming up for me in the great excavation of a massive life change. I am not who I was even a few months ago, nearly every single thing about my life has taken a big turn, and I’m figuring it out as I go. In that way — same as it ever was, really.

Who am I, what do I do? Well, I am both not easily defined with small talk and yet all too easily defined, in terms of my current stage of life and the aspects of of it that are a little/a lot on the yikes side, and that makes me feel awkward but/and that’s part of who I always have been, some things never change. Here I am, my tender uncertain underbelly exposed, and maybe that actually makes true connections easier to develop because I will say I have experienced that lately too.

Every day I feel like I am cycling through every possible feeling, from sorrow to anger to joy to peace to hope. That’s what is happening right now, who I am and what I am doing is just that, living through it all. It’s all okay, and it won’t always be like this, and that’s okay too. I lost some armor, I’m gaining new strength. It is both painful and beautiful to be forced from the cocoon.