*I didn't write this letter. But change the name and a few details, and I easily could have.
Dear Happily Married Friends,
You may remember me as a twosome. I was married for a long time. I
had a husband. And then we decided to separate and divorce. Now I'm
just Becky, on her own.
First and foremost, let me say that I am truly glad that you're married and
in love, that you're working on fixing that leaky roof and redecorating the
master bath. I think that sounds like more fun than wrestling Cameron
Diaz in a vat of baked beans. Honestly.
But I'm going to have to talk to you about something I've wanted to say since
my husband and I split in July.
Divorce, unlike this flu I can't seem to shake, is not contagious.
I know, I know -- it may seem like I'm dying of divorce. But I can
assure you I'm not. I'm okay; I'm going to survive. I know this because I'm a
nurse and I watch a lot of hospital drama shows -- which, when you combine the
two, pretty much makes me a doctor.
I've seen the way you look at me now and it's not in an "Oh, that darn Becky
and her foolish hijinks!" way any longer. I see the pity and the sadness and I
understand it. Getting a divorce sucks. I'm not sugarcoating it
and I hope like hell it won't happen to you and your loving partner.
But I see something else underneath it, too. I know it's there because I used
to feel it when my own friends struggled with divorce: it's a sort of smugness,
and I'm here, talking to you through keystrokes on my computer, to tell you that
you should probably rethink that attitude. I wish I had.
See, I didn't get all dressed up in the foofy white dress, march down the
aisle, and say my vows in front of everyone I knew with the intention that I
would one day be Becky, As Herself, again. Like anyone who gets married, I knew
divorce wasn't an option. At least, I told myself it wasn't an option because we
were going to make it, dammit!
Things don't always work out as planned, my dear married
friends. Even with every intention of staying married, my husband and I grew
apart. There's no one person, no catalyst, no particular reason for it, and most
importantly, there's no one at fault. Just like it takes two to get married (in
most states), it takes two to destroy one.
No, no, don't back away from the computer horrified. I'm not trying to tell
you that this will be the Ghosts of Divorce Future for you, not at all. You'll
probably be just fine, happy as clams under your new roof and redone master
bath. It'll be beautiful and rosy, just like you two.
But in the event that it doesn't (no, not trying to be a fearmonger, just
trying to be honest about this and level with you), maybe you can remember the
words I typed on a blank computer screen and remember that if it happens, if you
do get divorced, it's not the end of your world. Nor are you
It's just the start of a new life. And while those of us who have been or are
going through a divorce don't forget where we've come from, we also know that
we'll live. It's a hard road, my dear friends, and it's full of bumps and pot
holes and things that scare you damn near outta your skin, but I promise you one
thing: it won't kill you.
There is life after divorce. I promise.
Becky, As Herself
Reposted from "Aunt Becky"