This week marks two years since my ex-husband moved out. I remember because my son and I went to Florida to visit family for Halloween, a move that allowed for a less chaotic transition. And it was less chaotic, even if I’m still left sorting through the things he left behind two years later, the mental load of being a wife persisting even after I was not one.
Since then, my son has been with me a vast majority of the time, a schedule arguably borne out of necessity, but one that created minimal disruption to his life, providing him with the routines and consistency young children thrive on.
At the time, I wasn’t sure how I would keep the house and pay all of the bills, so I found a second job, but that second job required another caregiver for a few hours one evening per week, a caregiver I was unable to secure, and so I left my job lobbying for a national non-profit (and the second one) and found an opportunity that was more aligned with my needs. It was the right move, but again, one borne out of necessity, a career pivot moms are disproportionately forced to make all the time.
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Now, as I look at my life two years later, I can say with absolute certainty that it is better in every possible way. I knew it would be, someday, but it’s nice to be here, actually living it, and for that I am grateful. That’s not to say it hasn’t been hard and, at times, brutal, but that it was worth it.
But I am also proud because I know that it took a lot of grit, determination, and commitment to my son’s well-being to get from there to here. And yes, privilege, too.
So while I could write this essay from the perspective of what was hard, I’m choosing to celebrate this milestone by writing from a place of gratitude for how far I’ve come. In other words, these successes didn’t come easy (and required a lot of therapy), but they are worthy of celebration.
And with that, here’s what I’ve realized by reflecting on the last two years:
(Oh, and this is pretty long so if you only want to skim the headers and read the ones that pique your interest, I will not be offended! I’m just happy you’re here.)
1. I’m actually not bad at finances
I spent a lot of years thinking I was bad at finances because I was “bad” at them nearly two decades ago and chose low-paying public service jobs, a narrative that was reinforced throughout my 11-year marriage. But what I’ve realized is that it wasn’t so much that I was bad at them, but that I got tired of fighting about money and relinquished control. And so, my spending oftentimes vacillated between spending defiantly or not spending at all, anything to avoid having to justify doing it “right”.
I’m not saying those were good choices, but understanding how my marriage impacted my relationship with money helped me quickly gain more confidence in myself once I was on my own. That’s not to say I’m some financial guru (and I do still struggle with investing in myself), but I do at least trust myself to plan for the future and make the right decisions in the here and now.
2. I am where I need to be, professionally
As I mentioned before, I also left my job, something I was a lot sadder about at the time than I am now. Before, I was in the thick of the political world, having just come off my time on Aurora City Council and lobbying for a national non-profit. I loved the advocacy and the policy pieces but was more than happy to leave the unpleasant sides of politics behind. Plus, I had to commute ~90 minutes each way, something that is nearly impossible when you’re trying to work full-time and remain within the confines of childcare center hours.
Now, I work mostly from home doing something I enjoy and the environment is by far the healthiest I’ve ever worked in. It allows me to spend that commute time on things like exercise and meal prep (at least when I remember), both of which help me feel better mentally and physically.
Plus, I’m a better employee. I cannot even begin to express how much more present I am able to be at work when I’m not constantly worried about whether a sick kid or a school event will get me fired, the logistics of it all derailing my ability to focus. I want this for everyone.
3. Some friends are for reasons and seasons
Just like getting married or having kids, divorce can change your friendships. For some, it opens the door to a deeper and more authentic connection, a new level of friendship emerging from a shared experience. For others, it gets complicated. Some people don't know what to do with people who aren't part of a couple and others have a hard time accepting the fact that life can be better after marriage and remain skeptical.
And then there's the people you meet who are in a similar place and are right for a reason and a season. You navigate some tough times and then go your separate ways, your common thread not sustainable because it’s the only thing you have in common. (And that’s okay).
4. The person you married isn't the person you divorced isn't the person they become
I had a really short and easy separation, so when everyone told me that it would get worse before it got better, I didn’t fully believe them. Sure, it would be tough to navigate things like “co-parenting” and dating, but the people telling me this also had really difficult divorce processes, so it was hard for me to see myself in their shoes.
Well, they were right. Because while divorce can set you on a path of self-reflection, growth, and boundary-setting, it can also allow unresolved conversations to fester and manifest in unpleasant ways. And so as priorities change, as things you had previously agreed upon are newly up for debate, as fresh demands are made, and so on, it becomes clear that the person you married, the person you divorced, and the person they become are all very different people.
And this is true for you, as well. It can be a two-way street.
But if you let it, divorce can be a truly transformative experience that breaks open the parts of yourself you walled off to protect yourself, allowing you to feel joy in ways you thought were unavailable to you. The question is whether you’ll take the time make it happen.
5. You can create a village
I didn’t have a village when I was married. I had friends and a few folks I could rely on in a pinch, but a shared village who also lived nearby? Nope.
Part of this is because I had my son a few weeks into lockdown in 2020, but even before that we did not have a shared social life. There were no dinners with friends or joint activities or parties hosted, our interests so different that it was hard to find common ground. So when I read comments and think-pieces about how divorce is tough because it breaks up the village and forces people to choose sides, I think, what village? What people?
Because sometimes the very thing that people fear will break up the village is precisely the thing that allows you to create one in the first place. These days, I don’t just have people I can call in a pinch, but people with whom I have weekly play dates with (both for the moms and the kids….), people I can call up on a Sunday morning and meet at the park, neighbors who never hesitate to make sure my son knows he is loved. For the first time in a long time, I have a sense of community that would never have been possible before.
6. I’m a more patient and present mom
I am, hands down, a more patient and present mom as a single mom. That doesn't mean I'm calm and zen-like (holding your shi*t together looks different when there’s no one to tap in), but that it's so much easier to be present and to focus on the needs of my son when I'm not also tiptoeing around a person with whom I'm in a precarious relationship with. Not to mention it's easier to plan meals and activities, coordinate work and school schedules, and so on and so on. So while the mental load is still mine to carry, it is, in many ways, lighter and easier.
7. (Basic) Yard work is really not that hard
Do I enjoy it? No. But I really and truly believed that mowing the lawn was an arduous chore and that any attempt at it would take a minimum of 2-3 hours. And I wasn’t alone in thinking this. Women I know will joke-complain about how it takes their husband hours to do any yard work while they remain the default parent, oftentimes multitasking caregiving and whatever they’re doing around the house.
But as it turns out, basic yard work (mowing the lawn, mulching leaves) is really not that hard and is absolutely possible to do while also watching kids, which leads me to believe that the whole yard-work-as-men’s-work thing is a sham that is designed to give men more time alone without distractions or responsibilities, another respite from parenting that isn’t afforded to their wives. (And yes, I will write about this, too).
8. Screen-time is my friend
Like many moms, I thought I’d have much stricter rules around screen time. But when you need to park your kid so that you can take a shower or catch your breath, screens can be your saving grace. We do try to switch up the devices and the level of interactivity so that he’s not just watching Blippi on an endless loop (we also love our Yoto), but I’ve learned to see screen-time as yet another tool, rather than a source of guaranteed brain rot.
9. I actually enjoy being alone
A lot has been written about how more and more women are opting out of marriage, dating, and romantic relationships, in general. And there’s good reasons for it - romantic relationships exist within a society that devalues the time and labor of women both professionally (motherhood penalty, gender pay gap, gendered age discrimination) and personally (pink tax, mental load).
I, too, have a hard time wrapping my head around dating. Having spent over two decades in relationships that ultimately didn’t work, the thought of spending my limited free time on dating so that I might find someone that I might like enough to be happy with later sounds miserable. I’d much rather be happy in the here and now, thank you very much.
But people don’t want to hear that, and in my experience it’s mostly men and women married to those same men who don’t want to hear that. They want to hear that being alone means being lonely (and, therefore, sad) because if you’re alone and thriving and they’re unhappy in their marriage, then they might have to start looking at their own situations and that can be hard and terrifying.
10. Everyone wants to tell you about the problems in their marriage
“When you get divorced, an interesting thing happens. People, mostly wives in my case, start to tell you things. They tell you about their marriages, how their husbands don’t do their fair share at home or with the kids, how they are exhausted from being the default parent, the flexible one, the one doing most of the emotional labor in both parenting and in the relationship.
But in the same breath, they tell you they could never leave, that even though they aren’t happy, they aren’t exactly unhappy, and besides, their husband isn’t abusive, right? This last part oftentimes spoken as a question rather than a statement, as if the absence of whatever they define as abuse is good enough.”
This is an excerpt from a piece I wrote a while back titled The ‘but it’s not that bad’ marriage (my most popular, actually), but I think it still nicely sums up what happens when you get divorced. And while divorce isn’t for everyone, I do think that it’s healthy to explore it as an option, that actively choosing an outcome, whether to stay or to go, is empowering in its own way, and that we shouldn’t be afraid to talk about it.
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Now, enough about what I’ve learned. I want to hear from you - what have you learned since you separated or got divorced? Have you found a renewed confidence in yourself? Your abilities? What was (or is) your biggest struggle?
(Also, should I do a lengthier post for each of these that are more broadly applicable?)
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Life IS (for me also) so much better post divorce. I can relate to so much, the working from home flexible job even if not my career intention (lifesaver!) and while I do not mow the lawn, I do get a satisfaction out of taking out the trash, leisurely, looking at the stars, sometimes walking around the block in the dark because why not? (My kids are older, so it works.) I’m more present and patient (within reason) now that I’m not caregiving to 3 (ex was like another child). While I am in a healthy relationship, I value and love my time spent without my partner. I’m driving my life, and it’s a shit ton of work without any real relief (zero shared custody) but it’s my own.
The point that really speaks to me is about being alone. I have 2 autistic children and I’m married. I’m rarely truly alone. It’s the one thing I crave from before getting married - I had my own little one bedroom in a character house. I could do whatever, whenever. Now things are just…more. But it’s not the life I envisioned, so it’s not “happy” more.