I won’t
sugar coat it. Rebuilding oneself after the breakdown of a long term
relationship is no small feat. Getting
through the initial breakup, divvy-up, and start up of a new life is just the
first part. Then comes the reinvention
of a new identity without someone else there to help define it. For years you’re a “we” and then overnight
you become a “me”. You stand emotionally
naked in front of a world you’ve only seen and been seen through the lens of couple hood. You have learn to navigate
your way through all manner of things: dinners and movies alone, social
gatherings, even grocery shopping and cooking for one.
I ate cereal
many nights and did it standing up at my sink for months because sitting down
at the table, let alone cooking, seemed silly and a waste of energy. However, thanks to another girlfriend who got
divorced the year before me, I learned to sit at the bar in restaurants. Inevitably, there was always some other lone
diner there—often another woman or a friendly barkeep—and then it was easy to
discuss whatever that day’s current event happen to be. That tip saved me from the “Are you waiting
for someone?” or even worse “Since you don’t need this table/chair…”
moment. The first year or so after my
divorce I was forced to relearn and re-engage in ways I had never
considered. I spent a lot of time
apologizing to my already-divorced friends for not being there for them. They smiled knowingly.
When I was
newly single, a friend told me to make a list of all the traits I wanted in my
next long term relationship. I did my
homework (because this friend is not only bossy and insistent, she’s usually right.) When more than a year went by and my now-girlfriend
entered my life, I was hemming and hawing.
My bossy, wise friend presented me with my list. My new love checked off nearly every
box. And so, with my own empirical evidence
in hand, I forged ahead into the world of dating after divorce.
That was
more than a year ago. The box-checking
girlfriend is asleep next to me as I watch the sun rise and my fingers hover
over the keyboard. She reminded me what
a first date felt like. Along with a
first kiss. With a a sense of romance I
couldn’t dream up for a character if I tried, she wooed and courted me. She
patiently waited for me to be ready to open myself physically and emotionally
again. When I did so, she knew there
would be scars and bruises around my heart and my psyche. She more than kissed them and made them
better. (I told you, she checks ALL the
boxes!)
I’m past
being defined by my divorce. I am now
simply a woman rebuilding a life in a new town with new friends and a new love. People define me by my personality, my kindness,
my humor. Not by the demise of something
or the linked persona of someone else.
In this new landscape of my own making, there is one last (she says
hopefully) challenge I didn’t see coming: feeling worthy of all the good I have
in my life. There are so many small
moments that well up from deep within—like small gremlins hiding in the dark
waiting for a moment of light to emerge—where I feel unworthy of the good that
surrounds me. I find myself actually
whispering, “How did I deserve this?” in the best and happiest moments. They’re fleeting thoughts, that leave
quickly, but their shadow lingers. The
whisper resonates in the quiet moments. That negativity can be a dangerous
cancer if I allow it to grow. Now when I
feel that negativity rise up, I fight it.
But I hope for a day, soon, where I wake up just knowing innately,
rather than by rote, that I am worthy.
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