Aug
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Whisper to yourself, I am strong, Adriene from Yoga with Adriene says in the YouTube video and so I do: I am strong.
I am strong these days. I think I’m actually in the best shape of my life, here at 51. I got into fitness for all the wrong body-hating reasons but over time it morphed from a punishment to a beautifully rewarding friendship. As though I worked at some ugly grit over and over, oyster-like, until something smooth and lovely and rewarding emerged.
A few years ago I was thinking that I should focus my workouts into some sort of goal, so that instead of doing a hodgepodge of things with no particular aim in mind I would be, you know, training. I wonder what I should be training for, I thought, considering things like a 5K or maybe something more adventurous like one of those scary-sounding obstacle events, never mind that last time I did one of those I fell and broke my knee and had to be driven away in a golf cart (one of the most humbling moments of my life holy shit), before deciding that I was training for getting older and that was enough. But now I wonder if there wasn’t a part of me that knew a hard season was coming, and that I would need to be strong.
I’m writing to you from the messy middle of a divorce. Some of you know this already, because I shared about it online. I suppose it would be better to talk about this once I’m fully on the other side and I can be more reassuring, it feels enormously vulnerable to say “Hi, my marriage of 24 years is ending and things are terrible!” but: my marriage of 24 years is ending, and jesus, it’s pretty terrible.
Not every single thing is terrible, of course. For one thing, we made this decision together, and there’s no big hateful drama going on. We are both sad and fucked up and angry and worried and hopeful, I can’t speak for his experience but I know for me it comes in waves and cycles. Some days/hours are much better than others. I feel certain it will continue to be raw and fluctuating for a good long while and maybe forever in some ways but eventually everything will start to heal and even out and we will both be in much better places.
The boys are foremost on my mind and they have been amazing. They took the news well, months ago, and they have been so loving and they clearly want the best for us. It’s a day by day thing but I hope our family dynamic will take on new loving shapes, it will not be the same but there’s no reason it can’t be beautiful. It was never going to stay exactly the same anyway, that’s just not how life works.
I am closing on a new house. It’s an older home that’s near where we live now. It’s a little yellow-painted beacon of hope, a new life waiting for me with all sorts of new possibilities. It breaks my heart to be leaving this home we made, but I will be making a new home. It’ll be all mine. It’s particularly hard to leave my beloved studio behind, but I tell myself: your whole life will be a studio. Your whole life will be just how you want it to be, yours to build and decorate and cherish. And I can do it because I am strong.
Why is this happening, you might be wondering. Why did we make it 24 damn years but we couldn’t keep going to the finish line. There’s no one answer. We tried, we did a hard good job for a long time. Our family was always foremost. We had so many wonderful years. We did so much, we changed so much along the way. The boys are older and the needs are different and we both want good futures for ourselves and for each other. We had a hell of a good run and I’m not sorry for any of it. Look what we built together, look at all those amazing adventures and memories. It’s just time to walk our own paths now. It’s time to love ourselves and each other enough to let go and let in new light, new life.
I was at the beach this week with Dylan and we had such a good, good time together. I could feel how things will take on new shapes. Our family was a great little four-pack, and I loved those times, and I also see how I was … I don’t know how to put it exactly, like I was diffused, or like my own nature was contained in ways that helped me fit into that four-pack, like I made compromises, I’m sure we both did. And now we’re in the open air. And it’s scary as fuck but there’s so much room for growth. Now there’s room for everything I might want to do and feel and say and experience. It’s not less, it’s more.
Divorcing just plain sucks, it’s really hard to untangle after so many years and I’m in the weeds of it right now, but I’m also excited about what’s to come. I’m so sad to lose my person, I’m so eager for the new possibilities ahead. I’m worried about being alone and I’m looking forward to feeling less lonely.
It’s time to be strong, and it’s going to be okay. JB and Sundry are ending, JB and Sundry go on. Our stories keep going and I’m going to keep sharing mine because it means something to tell you. God, it really means something that you’re listening. Some of you have been a part of my life for so long, and I can’t wait to bring you with me on this new journey.
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I’m so sorry to hear you’re going through this, but I worry it also sounds super trite for my anonymous voice on the internet to say as much. I’ve followed you since the early days and read your life stories with as much interest as if you were a part of my own little communities oceans away. Being about a decade behind you, I know that I tune in to your posts to learn as well, to read about your experiences with the hope that I can take on tips and wisdom, smile at your successes and be educated on the parts that hurt a little more. Take care of yourself, you are strong.
I remember, going through my divorce long long ago, that I didn’t want people to automatically react as if it were a terrible tragedy—because actually, I felt relief and hope. It doesn’t fully work to compare that little 1-year kidless rental-apartment marriage to a 24-year-old marriage with house and kids, and yet I do have a similar feeling about it. I don’t want to look it up to get it precisely right, but I remember Amy Poeher saying in her memoir that the end of her marriage didn’t mean it was a failure; it was a successful 10-year marriage, and now it was over, time to move on to the next success. Something like that. Warmest possible wishes for you and your dear yellow house that is all yours.
You’re brave af and I love the fact that what has grown out of all of it is your self belief. You ARE strong. I don’t pretend to know the ins and outs of your situation but I do know that the things we have seen and endured as American women over the past decade have doubtless affected all of our relationships to varying degrees. “My whole life is a studio now” is so beautiful and hopeful and I really look forward to seeing what your new life holds.
The feeling of being compressed or diffused or both feels very familiar to me. That containment is constraining but it’s also supportive (until it’s not). It makes sense that it feels scary to see who and what you are without it. I feel confident that what you’ll find will be beautiful, but it’s scary to peel back the walls and find out.
I’m listening. Always love reading your words and how you’ve shared your life with us. I wondered about your studio – in my mind thinking you could move it like that little house in that book, when the city overtakes it. :) I’m glad you have a pretty yellow house that is all yours. <3 And so happy that your boys are there for you.
I wish you happiness and healing.
I have been reading you for 18 years and you are an amazing writer. I often think about something you’ve written during my own life changes and experiences. I’m sure that won’t change in this next part, I’m definitely listening. Wishing you and your family all the best.
Your words are beautiful and moving, as always, and you *are* strong … as always.
I’ve been here reading for … at least 18 years, probably more? Time really does fly!
Sending love, Linda. It’s the hardest, shittest thing, and having your own peace (and joy, and love, and calm, and the space to be all of you) is so worth it. Waving from the other side, it does get better.xxx
“You are a strong soldier” that’s what my sister told me when my marriage of 25 years ended suddenly. Along with me telling myself, “I will take care of me” and my faith, it really got me through. So simple and basic. I found courage that I didn’t know I had and an incredible amount of resilience. My divorce was only final in December, but I already like and respect myself more than I ever have before.
Be a strong soldier, the other side of this will be good.
I’ve been reading you quietly for years and just want to wish you and your family the very best. I have been there, through the divorce and out the other side and I think it can be a great thing after it’s a terrible thing. Take good care.
I’m simultaneously really sorry for the tough stuff you’re going through and so excited to see what’s next. You are stronger than you realize and I know that so much sunlight is waiting for you at the end of this tunnel.
I have been reading here since my oldest kid was 6 months old I think – and he’s now over 19 years old. A couple of years ago, I divorced after 25 years together and I know that rollercoaster of emotions, just how strange it feels, both sad and hopeful at the same time. I wish you all the happiness in your cute little yellow house. Onward and upward!
Hoping you emerge from the weeds soon and wishing you all the very best as you embark on a new adventure. I’ve been a reader since 2002 or 2003, and have always admired your grace, strength, and ability to see and put into words the real beauty and truth in life. There’s more beauty ahead, and I can’t wait to see what the future holds. <3
Anything is possible for you. I’m hear to witness your next chapter and all the wonderful things ahead.
For the moments it’s needed: hugs and concern. For the other moments it’s needed: congratulations. All kind thoughts flinging their way to you from this stranger who feels like you’re not a stranger.
Wishing you so much love and joy as you begin this new adventure! May the sucky parts resolve and give way to the depth of beauty from ashes. You are strong.
Oof. That takes a lot of courage to step outside of the path you know. We are all rooting for you.
My parents were so worried about how my sister and I would react when they told us (mid-20s) that they were splitting up. I remember my mom saying she felt like she had failed in some way, and I was surprised to hear it, because in my view they had had a *successful* 20-whatever-year marriage. Just because it ended didn’t mean it hadn’t been successful or worth it at the time, and it also didn’t mean they should keep going when it was time to move on. My sister and I just wanted each of our parents to be happy, and if that meant being in different houses.. kind of no skin off of our noses, you know? Anyway. I’m excited for your full-time-studio life. You are strong :)
I’m worried about being alone and I’m looking forward to feeling less lonely. — oof! That struck a chord.
Cheering you on from afar. Cheering you ALL on. Hard, yes, and also so much potential to bloom.
Also, as always – beautifully written!
You are strong and your whole life will be a studio that you can design to fit the person you have become and are becoming. Best of luck on this new journey.
You ARE strong, and will be stronger still on the other side. Like others, I’ve been reading your words for close to twenty years, and I’m grateful for your voice. I look forward to the next chapters of your story, and appreciate you sharing them with us (unseen internet randos who don’t know you, but know you…and who are cheering for you from our part of the ether).
We married in October of 2001, and our divorce was just finalized last month. It was (and continues) to be hard and terrible, but there are these moments of relief and joy as well. I am sorry you are going through this tough time, but it takes a lot of guts to leave a comfortably miserable marriage. Big hugs.
Linda, I’ve been reading since before you were a mom (is that even possible) and I will be holding space for you. My bestie has also been reading as long as I have and we’ve held space for each other so many times over the years. I know the three of us will never be friends IRL, but just know that you have two of the most absolutely feral supporters. I know it’s weird, but… love you dearly. I’m so hopeful for you as you create your life’s studio. <3
it’s now or never now now now
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NC8MfulGMXE
love you <3
I so appreciate that you share the hard stuff. What you said about worrying about being alone, but looking forward to being less lonely, oh boy, that hit close to home. I wish you happiness and peace in your new yellow house.
you were one of the first blogs I followed and I’m always so happy to see another blog post or instagram post. sometimes your writing seems to be exactly my own thoughts. Sending hugs and strength to deal with the tough times and wishes for many happy times in the little yellow house. I hope you’ll share some of it with us :) I wish I had your courage.
I have been reading your blog since before you had Riley and since I live in Kirkland in the Seattle area when you were in the Crossroads area, I have always felt particularly (and possibly weirdly) close to you, in a respectful stranger on the interwebz way. At any rate, all this is to say that I finalized my divorce of 22 years last year and it’s been such a relief. Sad and hard and right and necessary. I have LOVED being single and focusing entirely on myself (and my 2 daughters) and just not needing to take care of or accommodate a partner in any way. My ex-husband was great in a lot of ways and is a wonderful father, and the joy that I get from having space — in all the ways that “space” can be defined, mentally, physically, emotionally — entirely for me me ME only?? Well, I wish for you that same joy and peace after you get through some of this impossbly-hard-even-if-it’s-the-right-thing transition. Sending lots of love and healing and peace your way!
“Your whole life will be a studio…” that is such a moving sentiment and intention to carry with you. Thank you for sharing and it’s so clear that you are tending to your dear heart in the midst of this big transition and we are cheering you on.
Honoring you and your marriage and your divorce and your whole life as a studio.
I celebrated our 22nd anniversary this weekend and we went away, just the two of us, and had a lot of good space to talk. Neither of us wants to go our separate ways but man, it turns out we don’t really envision our futures the same either. He used to say that if he could play hockey he could live anywhere and I took him at his word. I have always said I don’t want to remain in our current city after I retire in 4 years so I’ve been imagining and dreaming about where would be perfect for us… only to have him say this weekend that he wants to be able to play hockey with his friends in retirement, which pretty much means never leaving where we are, because he doesn’t mean new friends, he means friends from childhood and his teenage years that he’s used hockey to stay close to. So who knows what’s going to happen when push comes to shove at year 26 of our marriage…
My thoughts are with you, not just because I like you and have read you for years, but also because if things turn out okay for you, it may give hope to the rest of us.
You are going to flourish!
Sending so much love!
I have been there – although we did not have kids – and it’s hard, even when you still care about each other. You will get through this. Take care of yourself.
A somewhat light-hearted response to you pouring your heart out….I’m a bit older than you and I have a fitness goal I often repeat: STAVE OFF DECREPITUDE!
I’ve read everything you’ve ever written, and I love your writing. I hope this is the best transition for you and I hope you continue to share about your new reality. Don’t forget how much you’ve gone through and persevered.
You’ve done harder things than this and you will survive this as well. Much love to you. Keep writing please 💙
I am a longtime reader-I think before Riley was born-if not, I went back and read the archive from the beginning. I was pregnant with my only child at the same time you were pregnant with Dylan. I’m reading this on my 50th birthday, 3 years on from ending my 19 year marriage. It’s hard, it sucks, it will hit you in ways you won’t see coming. But it will also be freeing and amazing and you could not be more right: being alone and at peace is 1000 times better than being in a relationship that leaves you lonely. I am so happy you are sharing this part of your story here. I will be cheering you on as you build you beautiful new life.
Cripes, a month later. And good for you. And fuck this is a lot. And damn, relationships are complex. And you got this.
I’m so sorry to hear this, and at the same time cheering you on for your next adventure. You ARE strong!