Divorce

I’m not sure anyone knows the perfect thing to say when they hear news of an impending divorce. Statistically speaking, we have more opportunities than ever to practice responding in a socially acceptable and supportive way, but it is still hard to know the best way to proceed aloud.

When I got divorced, the comment I encountered most frequently was this:

“Really? That’s such a shame. So there’s no chance of staying together? Did you really try?”

The try part was usually delivered with the same tone of suspicion reserved for young children’s restroom visits.

But I wasn’t preparing for a long car trip, and I wasn’t readying myself to step into a snowsuit, so the accusatory intonation, no matter how mild, stung.

Marriages are over long before anyone files paperwork at the county courthouse.

Marriages end, I think, before most people even feel comfortable sharing the true nature of their situation with even the closest of family and friends.

It is so SO far past the try stage.

To a degree, the path of getting divorced is perhaps more challenging than staying in a dysfunctional marriage. Choosing an attorney, dividing assets, paperwork, making new living arrangements, packing—it’s pretty overwhelming. If kids factor into the equation, multiply that responsibility by a zillion.

Staying put in a loveless marriage?

Definitely easier.

Safer.

Sadder, though.

Staying seems easier.

Staying solves nothing.

If you want to get divorced, you have to be really brave. You have to summon strength you didn’t know you had. You have to make a permanent decision. You have to grow a tough exterior—quickly—to shield your heart from the “Did you really try?” questions that you’ll undoubtedly face.

Which is why, when I learn of impending divorces of close friends, I say this:

“I am so proud of you. I am so very proud of your awareness, and your courage, and your strength.”

And if the friend has kids, the celebration continues, for that friend has chosen to model happiness and hope for love. Isn’t that what we would want for our own kids, in their future? I would never, ever want our kids to feel socially compelled to remain in a loveless marriage.

And if the person is not a close friend, I say this:

“I’m sure this has been very stressful for you, and I hope things are more peaceful for you soon.”

And if I don’t know the person at all—a celebrity, maybe, or a politician—I say nothing out loud. Their private lives deserve the same respect that mine does.

But in my head and my heart, I’m thinking

I am so proud of you. I am so very proud of your awareness, and your courage, and your strength.

I’m sure this has been very stressful for you, and I hope things are more peaceful for you soon.