D is for Divorce

Let's just call it like it is, shall we? Divorce is ugly, it's awful, and it can be downright messy. After my first post I felt that my second should really speak to the elephant in the room, that being my divorce. I feel like I should be completely up front with you before I even begin: this post is not about telling you ‘my side’ of the story, it isn't about putting someone down, or any other form of belittlement; I have no intention of demonizing my ex, dragging him through the mud, or giving you a play-by-play of the events that led up to the end of our marriage. What I am going to do, however, is be completely honest about how we came to a place of mutual acceptance; accepting that ‘we’ needed to end, and how we found a way to navigate the murky and emotionally charged waters of separation and divorce amicably. takes deep breath

With that out of the way, let’s begin. I'm not going to sit here and pretend that it was easy, or mutual in the beginning. It just wasn't. The day my ex told me it was over was the worst day of my life; I felt my heart breaking in that moment. Trying to go back to that day and what that felt like is not easy for me and not something I consciously choose to do, but I feel it's important to do so now, to be real with you even in this. My ex chose to leave, and he chose to end our marriage. We both know the reasons behind his decision and, ultimately, why it probably was the right one in the end. But, with that said, it was not what I ever wanted. I cannot sit here and tell you I had a perfect marriage, it wasn’t; but it was a marriage that began with two people who loved each other, deeply. I don't think either one of us would sit here and tell you any different. Which is why it was so hard for me: Wrestling with the decision to continue to fight for my marriage or to accept that it was over. In the two weeks that followed my ex leaving I struggled with that decision; I don't think I've ever felt more torn on anything in my entire life. At the end of the day, it was one of the many friends and family that I turned to in those weeks for help and support that ultimately gave me the advice I so desperately sought and needed. He was one of the first people I turned to because he knew my situation probably better than anyone else and had seen our relationship from the time we had dated to the present day. I'll never forget his words to me; he said, “You probably don’t want to hear this, and it’s going to be the hardest thing for you to hear right now, but don’t fight for Tom. The truth is, he isn't fighting for you and the only way this is going to work is if he's fighting for you, and he’s not!” Knowing he too knew the sting of divorce after fighting for his own marriage, his advice helped me to make my decision. I'm by no means saying he made the decision for me, but in that moment, it was exactly what I needed to hear.

…no one else really knows what goes on in a marriage save for those two people. It is also no one else's business…

In the weeks that followed my ex leaving, I am a firm believer that each and every single person that showed up in my life was truly a "God thing." I have personally struggled with my faith since my divorce, but I can truthfully say that giving my grief and pain over to God the night my ex left was the absolute best thing I could have done in that moment. I don't know about you, but I can admit that I like to be in control of all things in my life (no, I did not say "control-freak"...your words, not mine). So, being that I absolutely had zero control over what was happening in my life in that moment, I vividly remember being like, "Okay God...I have absolutely NO control in this, so I'm giving it to you. Take it!" And then it happened: every day that week I had someone show up for me. I truly felt that by giving it to God, he showed up for me with each person who came and was there for me...and I was abundantly blessed. I can't begin to describe just how grateful I am for every single person who showed up for me in those few weeks following my split, and especially for those who continued to show up and be there for me. I can't name all of you here, but you know who you are and how much I love and appreciate you. You helped me in ways you may never truly realize; by being there for me I didn't feel alone, and I felt like I could get through the hell I was living in at that time. “Thank you
doesn't even begin to cover it, but I'm going to say it anyways, “Thank you!”

Looking back, the one person I do feel that I have to give special recognition to is my sister; of all the people I turned to in the aftermath of my ex leaving, she was the one person who I felt gave me her full and unconditional support of whatever decision I came to. "Sabrina, if you decide to stay with Tom and fight for your marriage. That's amazing. I'm going to support you in that. But if you decide to let him go, then I'm also going to support you in that!" I may be paraphrasing slightly, but that kind of unconditional love and support meant the world to me, and I just want to recognize how truly rare that is. If I could just say this, to all those who don't know what to say to those going through a similar situation, just show up and give your unconditional love and support. Period. Leave your judgment at the door and just show up. Having people that can do that? It can mean absolutely everything to someone who's going through this and struggling.

So, I let him go...and it was the best thing I could have done for me. Am I saying it is the right thing for you, for everyone? No. Absolutely not. I don't know your situation, life story, or what’s right for you. A phrase I have always said, and one that I still use today, is that no one else really knows what goes on in a marriage save for those two people. It is also no one else's business, save what they choose to share with the world. I cannot speak for anyone else's marriage (nor ever wish to). But, I can speak for mine; I can say this, unequivocally: we—existing as husband and wife—needed to end. And once we came to that decision, together, our next decision was to end as amicably as we possibly could, and as a united front. No name calling, no asking people to choose sides, and no dragging the other through the mud. I chose early on in the process—despite all of the pain he was causing me—to treat him with the dignity and respect I would want him to treat me with should the situation have been reversed. I can honestly say it was probably the biggest reason we were able to cope with things as well as we did, and why we came out relatively unscathed in the end.

Once we were ready to announce our divorce, we drafted up our official announcement together, both agreeing on the message we wanted to send, and we did it together. Just writing this now, the symmetry isn't lost on me. We begin marriages together; it’s not one-sided (at least hopefully not). Why shouldn't the ending be also undertaken in the same way? Two people choosing to end, together. I am proud of us in that way. Honestly, I am still incredibly proud of both of us in the two years that have followed. We have both grown so much by not being together. While we may not have been good for each other as marriage partners, we started as best friends when we met at 16 and 17 and, I can honestly say, we are still very good friends to this day, for which I’m incredibly grateful. Did I expect to remain friends with my ex-husband? Absolutely not! I never expected for that happen. The truth is, after all the hurt and pain had dissipated, I was left feeling that this is someone I (somehow) still cared for and considered to be a friend, and, more importantly, who I still wanted to have in my life, and the feeling was mutual. I acknowledge that this is not ‘normal’, and certainly not common, but I also don't really care if it's ‘normal’ or that people ‘get it’ or understand it. One of the beautiful gifts I have received in this process is the liberating feeling of not letting others expectations or potential judgments stand in the way of what you know to be right for you. Again, I don't know what that path looks like for you, but I do hope reading this helps you to ask the questions, to have the conversation, and to not settle for the status quo in your life or in your relationships. No matter where you find yourself, I hope you aren't settling—in life or in love. Never settle. Life is far too short to settle, my dear.

So there you have it. This is by no means all there is to my divorce...just merely a piece, the prologue, if you will—where it all begins. This is just the beginning of my story, and it only gets better from here. I promise.

All my love,

Sabrina Michele