Two weeks after my twenty-eighth birthday I became officially divorced. The looks of pity or confusion that crosses people’s faces when they find out I am divorced is always frustrating. People often ask how long I was married. I answer, “Three years, but we were together for almost ten.” Yes, that’s right, I was with him since I was eighteen. The questions and statements that are made form these people are usually quite judgemental. “Did you try therapy?” “Three years! That’s nothing” “Maybe you should have tried another therapist?”
Well, the fact is… I’m divorced and I wouldn’t change that… so these statements are null and void.
People then like to make comments about how maybe I got divorced because I work too much. Yes, the idea that I should be “available” to my man is still a popular sentiment in our culture. Trust me, I don’t work so much because I want to work. I started working because of my ex-spouses spending habits. And that is something I had to deal with.
Most of the comments I received are from women. As a labor nurse, that comes with the occupation with co-workers and patients. The worse and most common comment I get about being a twenty-eight year old divorcee is, “Well, you aren’t getting any younger”
Thank you.
Yes, I am approaching thirty.
Yes, thanks for reminding me that I work on a maternity unit and help bring children into the world and don’t have my own.
It sounds like some people are saying, it is better to be unhappy and married with children than to find peace by yourself.
I have struggled with this part of the divorce. It has shown me who are real friends who will stand by me when times are tough. That’s all I need right now: good friends and family, margaritas, my passport to be stamped as I continue to travel, and health.
So, yes, I chose peace by myself.
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