5 Takeaways From The Year After My Marriage Ended
Written by Dené Logan
It occurred to me the other day that an entire year has gone by since I joined the ranks of the singletons. I mentioned this to one of my girlfriends, and she noted that it’s probably a good sign that I hadn’t even noticed the one year anniversary of this transition. I agree. Life feels good and there is deep experience of peace for both my former partner and myself around the decision to allow our relationship to change its form. I will say that the realization of this one year marker, has caused me to do a bit of reflecting on what has come to my awareness since my marriage ended.
I was married to my husband for almost twelve years. In a relationship with him for fourteen. Long before dating apps were a thing, before I could call myself anything resembling a responsible adult, and before I really understood what it meant to commit your life to another human being – we were an “us.”
This year has offered so much growth and clarity around what I couldn’t see about relationships (and certainly myself in relationships) until I had enough distance from the one I had been in for so long. I’m sharing some of these realizations in the hopes that they may be useful to someone else – either attempting to show up a bit more consciously in their partnership or someone walking the path of singlehood.
1. Embrace the Redirects
2020 has provided more redirects than most of us can even begin to wrap our heads around. Whatever plans we had for this year, whatever certainty we imagined we could count on… this year has taught us that the only thing we are promised, is the breath we are taking in this moment right now.
It never really occurred to me that my marriage would come to an end. We had our fair share of conflict, like most couples, but I felt settled in the understanding that I had made a commitment to spend my life with this person. I was resigned to the fact that although I didn’t feel a real sense of aliveness, or growing in the same direction, or compatibility, or desire for one another – this was just what a marriage became over time. I felt confident that the mutual respect and love we had for one another was enough to sustain a marriage. I was wrong.
The Universe often has a different perspective on the trajectory of our life than we do, because we can’t see the whole journey up close. I was so close to my marriage that I couldn’t see the stifling effect it was having on both of us. I couldn’t see that in order to fulfill the assignments we came into this life to fulfill, we needed to do them apart.
This year has shown me that there will be detours that take our life in a completely different direction than we could have possibly imagined. But that a new road can provide magic we couldn’t have dreamt up on our own – if we’re willing to trust the redirect.
2. Differentiate your Truth from Societies
I think the most challenging part of a marriage ending, is navigating what comes up for everyone else around your decision. This decision might make those around you feel an understandable sense of disruption. Someone in their inner circle has changed the boundaries of their relationship, and that can be a deeply destabilizing feeling.
Your decision will inevitably bring up for others:
- feelings of betrayal: how is it possible that we didn’t know they were having relationship issues?
- discomfort in your presence: how are we supposed to act around them? do we have to choose a side?
- a spotlight on their own relationship: are we happy? is my partner happy with me? what would I do/say/think/feel if I were suddenly in this person’s shoes?
While all the feelings your break-up brings up for others are completely understandable, it doesn’t mean those feelings are your responsibility to carry. You can be empathetic. You can allow others the space to feel what they feel. But it’s important not to internalize them as something you should feel shame about.
Society teaches us that the end of a marriage means that the marriage has failed. But when I looked at the years of mutual support, beautiful adventures, undisputable friendship, and the co-creation of the most incredible little human, that came from my marriage – I whole heartedly reject the idea that our union has been any sort of failure.
My truth is that I will ALWAYS be grateful for every second I spent in my previous relationship. It provided the most loving, safe container for us both to grow, evolve, and become the people we are today.
3. You WILL transition imperfectly – forgive yourself and begin again
There is a very real distinction between who we are in our “higher self” moments, and who we are in our “lower self” moments. I’ve found after years of working with couples (and certainly in my own experience) that our most intimate relationships provide fertile ground for the activation of our “lower self” behavior. Because unless and until we are doing some deeply introspective work to understand our relationship dynamics - we continue to act out our childhood wounds and wiring, unable to see why we can’t just get along.
Change is always hard. And the pain of a long-term relationship changing form, inevitably brings up feelings of abandonment, devastation, and all the various experiences of grief. Our work becomes to hold ourselves compassionately in the loss of a relationship, just as much as we would any other loss. When we acknowledge the challenging nature of change, we’re much quicker to find self-forgiveness and move forward from a lighter place.
4. Walking into the fire of your greatest fear, is where you’ll find your Superpower
I didn’t even realize how terrified I was to be alone. I’m an extremely introverted, homebody who has never experienced a moment of FOMO in my entire life – lol! But the cultural conditioning of what it means for a woman of a certain age to be alone – runs deep. I’ve been just as impacted by this conditioning as anyone else.
As women, we’re taught to believe that our worth lies in our ability to be chosen; and once we’re chosen, to maintain a certain level of desirability, to “keep a man.” The modern-day reality of this could look like: working a full-time job, keeping up with the social engagements, children’s activities, cleaning, cooking, laundry, maintaining a desirable figure, and making sure you preserve a sense of connection with your partner – so that he doesn’t go seeking said connection elsewhere.
Let me be clear, this is not necessarily an assessment of the way the household responsibilities are actually divided (it certainly isn’t how they were divided in my own marriage) but the internalized pressure of feeling like we should be able to juggle every aspect of these “classic womanly duties” is the soundtrack our inner critic plays repeatedly in our head.
I remember feeling a strange twinge of anxiety shortly after I got married. It was a discomfort I didn’t really have the language to articulate yet. I only knew that I had been so caught up in chasing the goals society told me I should want for myself – the college degree, the handsome husband, a beautiful home and 2.2 kids - that I’d never stopped to ask myself whyor if I wanted these things for myself. Now that I had them, asking the question was far too disturbing to even ponder. Because if the answer to wanting them was no – I would have to figure out what I did want for myself. And I would have to figure it out alone.
But that’s the funny thing about the truths we don’t allow ourselves to acknowledge. They don’t go away because we’re unwilling to look at them. They just grow bigger over time, pestering little anxieties, reminding us of the life we’re terrified to live. And for me, that was the truth I was terrified to look at. Who would I be if I were not my husband’s wife? Who would I be if I couldn’t hide out in the comfort of being chosen? What would be true about my life if I were forced to define myself, for myself, by myself, for the first time since I was twenty-five years old?
Suddenly, The Universe was giving me no choice but to find out. And what I was surprised and delighted to find, was how very much I liked my own company. How many things I had been longing to do – and was able to do, now that my life belonged only to me.
It was just like it said in Winnie the Pooh. As I stayed with myself through the reality of what I’d been afraid to face – without distracting or numbing or checking out or finding a way to pacify the feelings – I really was, “braver than I believed, stronger than I seemed, smarter than I thought, and loved more than I could’ve ever known.”
5. Love is ALWAYS the answer
On the night that my husband and I decided to separate, I could feel the waves of panic begin to flood my entire body. I intuitively made the choice to get very still and pray. I began to repeat the same prayer I’ve conditioned myself to say whenever I feel overwhelmed by a situation: “God, what is this here to teach me? What is this here to teach me?” In this instance, the answer came almost immediately. A voice within me stated with deep certainty. “You have two options. Fear or love. Choose love.”
From that moment on, love is the north star that I return to. Whenever I feel angry, short changed, terrified, lonely, disappointed, or lost – I say to myself, “what would love say about this situation?” Love doesn’t get caught up in the small-minded limitations of the ego. Love isn’t interested in how things look from the outside.
One of the biggest fears I had in losing my marriage, was that I would lose one of the most sacred friendships of my lifetime. But in choosing love, we have space for an expanded version of our relationships – one that makes room for the possibilities that arise when we meet one another in the space of truth. In this way, my friendship with my child’s father is so much better and freer than it ever was before.
I’ve been reminded of something Eckhart Tolle said quite often over the last year. He said, “When you become comfortable with uncertainty, infinite possibilities open up in your life.” This year has served as the most visceral reminder, that nothing at all is promised. We have a choice about the way we hold uncertainty. We can meet it with a resistance that expands our suffering and tempts the feeling of despair; or we can see it as an open door to possibility, giving you the power to create whatever you can dream.
