When it comes to ending our 16 year relationship (14 year marriage), we have been taking it slow. We made the decision to divorce 19 months ago, but we didn’t tell anyone for 3 months, and it took over year to fully separate. In part, this was a practical necessity (we had to sell a house, there was the cancer scare and insurance considerations, my ex needed a new job before he could support himself on one income, etc). In some ways, the slow transition has been more for my ex. I gave him space, empathy, and a lot of time to figure out his next steps. We kept our finances joined to help pay for medical bills. We continued living together for months while he searched for a new job so that he didn’t have to sleep on friends couches. Some of my friends have felt he didn’t deserve this consideration under the circumstances, but I don’t regret taking things slow. The arrangement benefited both of us. We had ground rules, and made concessions for one another. It required us to be considerate of the others feelings, and to communicate well. Who benefited more from the arrangement doesn’t really matter, because it was mutually consented to and enabled us to have what has so far been a very amicable split.
Splitting up amicably has always been the goal. We’re friends. We care about one another. We have a son that continues to be the top priority and we have to co-parent him together. Amicable doesn’t mean painless. I still have had to cope with all the complicated emotions of separation, the grief of our relationship ending (when I didn’t really want it to end), the knowledge that he’s moving on more quickly than I can, and so on.
I know that for a lot of people, amicable just isn’t possible. And there’s probably an argument to made for “amicable” being code for conflict avoidant or having poor boundaries. But I am doing my best to be self aware and to create healthy boundaries for myself along the way. Maybe choosing this path means that one or both of us is free from consequences they deserve, but I can live with that. I know this slow transition has only been possible because (for better or for worse) we don’t have a lot of conflict; but I will take treating each other with kindness over feeling vindicated any day.
The slow transition helped our son adjust to the idea and the changes without a huge or sudden upheaval. I moved slow for my son. I moved slow for my ex. And I moved slow for myself. In a lot of ways, the slow burn make the transition easier for me too. There was more time to accept the changes. Instead of happening all at once, I was able to grieve the changes slowly. Unraveling the life we built together for the last 16 years has been painful – but the pain was spread out and felt more manageable.
Of course, it has also made the situation more confusing (especially to other people). Did we break up 19 months ago or just a few months ago? Am I over a year into healing, or only 5 months into healing? Our healing timelines are looking very different. In his mind, we’ve been broken up for almost two years. He’s been ready to move on for a long time. He’s dating. He can honestly tell his dates that it’s been almost two years since we “broke up.” Yet simultaneously, and just as true, for me it feels quite fresh. We are still technically married. There are a lot of people in our extended circles that don’t even know we’re separated. It has only been a few months since I have actually felt that I am on my own. I barely feel “single”, much less ready for a new relationship.
From the outside, most of our friends and family watched us act completely normal for over a year after we announced our decision. Even after we separated, we have still been able to spend time together socially with our friends, and again, have seemed like we’re handling it all really well.
And this is the area I’ve found myself struggling with the most. I am fine. But, that doesn’t mean that I’m fully healed. What boundaries do I need to set with our mutual friends? When we seem like we get along so well, friends assume that means we’re always cool being in the same place, or we’ve moved on. I haven’t told them otherwise. For me, it’s a lot more complicated than that. I can still feel triggered by conversations. I can sometimes make comments that come across as bitter in response to my ex’s behavior. I am not ready to be confronted with a new girlfriend – or even our mutual friends discussing his dating life.
When these painful reminders of exactly how “not ok” I really am pop up, I find myself wondering if I have truly allowed myself to process everything slowly – or if I simply found it easier to bury feelings and delay the grief. If the breakup was fresh, my friends might expect me to be a mess. But now that we’ve been seemingly fine for nearly two years – will I seem crazy if I suddenly feel jealous, or angry, or start crying into my martini?
I know healing isn’t linear – but it has felt steady up to this point. Yes, emotions crop back up even after I think I’ve processed them, but the progress I’ve made in the last 6 months alone has been obvious to those who actually know how much work I’ve been doing (my therapist, my best friend).
Is my lack of extreme responses this far the result of doing the that slow and stead work, or are those responses still coming for me – just much later than normal and probably to the shock of everyone in my circle.
We will legally be allowed to file for divorce in just a few weeks. I think the permanency of that will be painful. Am I strong enough to not fall apart when the last tiny flame of hope is extinguished? Have I gained enough acceptance to grieve without a noticeable breakdown?
Has the slow burn truly helped, or simply delayed the inevitable?
Woman Asunder 