I’m not going to pretend the pain of dismantling a marriage isn’t brutal. It’s not just the heartache of hope gone awry, not just the grief of love lost, not just the fear of the future now that your plan as a partnership has left you facing life alone. It’s the logistical and emotional expedition you have to embark on, often without a compass. It’s how to navigate the stressful breaking apart of that partnership, how to imagine and then form a functioning family that embodies a broken relationship, and how - perhaps most importantly - do you figure out who you are again separate now from this structure that held you in place for so long.
My marriage ended on a Sunday morning at 9.25am two weeks before my 45th birthday. I remember distinctly the surprising feeling of sheer and utter relief that finally all the confusion, stress of trying to figure out what was wrong, exhaustion from trying to keep something patched together that had been falling apart at the seams for years, was finally over. That relief lasted about 38 seconds before the tsunami of grief, anger, fear and terror washed over me… and it would feel a long time before that wave washed me up on steady ground again.
In the following years I had to figure out how to single parent, double job and triple care my kids, my dying mum and myself. I also faced the world of midlife dating, explored who my sexual single self was, and went on an adventure of self-discovery. In the eight years since that seismic Sunday morning I have done and become so many new versions of myself, built from the rubble of my life in ruins, my 45 year self would barely believe it. I’ve been in therapy, cried so hard I didn’t think I’d ever get off the floor, relied on friends, had angry tantrums….. become a cold-water mermaid, author, college student, graduate, coach, and so many things that I am a different person. A better, evolved, stronger person. That’s not to negate the pain, but it is to explain that there can be an amazing life waiting for you from the post-traumatic growth. I see it in my own life, and I see it in many of the women I coach. Who, having come out of a relationship they thought would dominate their lives, have found a more meaningful relationship with themselves.
Because midlife throws a lot of stuff at us. It just does. Much of that stuff is great - careers, marriages, kids, adventures, revolutions, evolutions. And some of it is really fucking hard. Losing parents, career disappointment, ageing in an age of anti-ageing propaganda, and, of course perhaps, the demise of a marriage or long-term relationship.
I work with many women who are going through that experience. Some have ended the marriages themselves, and others have had the rug pulled out from under them. Either way, it’s an emotionally turbulent time.
But here’s what I also know. In this unique and extended midlife - one that has an extra couple of decades to be lived in midlife, not old age - the false fairytale we are still sold, that the only version of success is that we have to find The One, and if That One doesn’t continue to be The One for 60 years while each of you try to thrive as individuals as well as form and continually adapt to decades of choices, challenges and changes then it’s a failure - makes it all the harder. Not negating the pain, if you come out of a marriage thinking it and you are a failure, it’s much harder to repair, recover and reboot to a new version. It’s not a failure if a marriage ends, even if it breaks your fucking heart. If you have loved, and been loved, it is a success. How long. it lasts is not the marker of success. Every person has the right to thrive. Not every relationship will create the conditions for that to happen forever. (This does not mean there isn’t a responsibility to be open, honest, brave and kind in the relationship and not to be, you know, a total arsehole if it’s not working for you anymore).
But in the aftermath of a breakup, it’s so easy to get so caught up in the pain and anger, constantly reacting to the marital missiles exploding and devastating your peace of mind, you can lose sight of the fact it is possible can retain a level of control and learn to respond in ways that serve a bigger picture, or minimise the damage to that peace of mind.
From my own experience, and from my coaching work, there are two things I help a woman see through the smokescreen of the devastation. Firstly, rather than drown in the constant every day drama, gather clarity from a better perspective to see the bigger picture and long-term vision so that you navigate the process from a place of strength and not panic.
Secondly, you need to connect back in to yourself to rediscover who you are separate to all the roles you plays, and learn to live life responding to your inner needs, not constantly reacting to the external demands.
It’s not a magic pill. It’s not a destination. It’s not a solution to all your problems. But it is a way to learn to not only survive the trauma of a separation or divorce, but learn to thrive through and after it.
There were days I didn’t know how I would carry on. As my ex-husband packed the spare glasses into the boot of his car, I certainly wasn’t thinking about what I would gain from the experience. All I could thank him for was single parenting, debt and a coldsore. But not negating the pain, the thing that I lie awake about at night in a cold sweat over is not that my life was turned upside down. But that I might be there still.
I’m running a special live online workshop at 7pm on 20th June called Break up BUILD UP for anyone who wants some support, guidance and practical tools to help them navigate the turbulence of a separation. My paid subscribers get a 15% discount - just email me and I’ll send you the discounted link.
All the details are here - Breakup BUILD UP workshop.
I’d love to know how you are managing if you’re going through a separation or divorce right now.