To my happily married friends,
You used to know me as so-and-so’s wife. But now I am just a so and so.
Some of you, well, most of you, don’t look at me the same way anymore. You’re awkward around me. You keep away. You don’t contact me anymore.
Watch the trailer for Mamamia's podcast all about separation, The Split. Post continues after video.
I don’t get the same smiles I did from you when I belonged to someone else. I can’t help but feel like some spinster that might steal your husband (because that’s what single women with kids do, right?). As I am met with pity and a little bit of disdain, there are a few things I want you to know:
I’m not diseased. I’m not contagious; I’m not dying. I’m not to be pitied or swept under a rug. I am not broken.
I am okay. I will survive this. Yeah, it hurts like hell, just like your first heartbreak, but with a freight train on the side. But I’ll be okay... I will get through this. I will be stronger than I was before... because, as the saying goes, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and I can’t die from a divorce.
I am not a pleb of society.
I also want you to know that I never planned on being here. I planned on growing old with the man I married. I didn’t say those vows so in seven years I could be wondering what I could have done to avoid that moment where the marriage thread unravelled. So I could be just Laura instead of so-and-so’s wife.
And I know when I’d hear of other people separating, I’d feel a particular type of reassurance that it wouldn’t be me. I was like you. I tried to think about whose fault it was too, tried to pick a side and justify it, so I could make sure it wouldn’t happen to me (oh but he did this...) but it’s not anyone’s fault. It takes two to make a relationship and two to break it.
And two hearts to break even more when people pick sides.
It’s okay to ask me how I am. It’s okay to tell me you’ll be there for me. It’s okay to have a coffee with me. It’s okay to acknowledge it's sh*t. It’s okay to treat me like a person still.