Friday, September 20, 2013

A {not so} Jerry Maguire Moment


We all know the scene. Renee Zellweger. The angry divorced women’s group. The cute kid with spiky hair and glasses. Roll music. Enter Tom Cruise. “…You complete me…you complete me.”


I was a junior in high school when Jerry Maguire hit the big screen, and I clearly remember dreaming of the day someone would say this to me. It seemed like the perfect thing to say to someone you love, someone you just can’t live without. Someone who…completes you. After all, isn’t this what love is all about? Someone to complete us?


It seems perfectly logical to search for the missing puzzle piece to your heart. And when we find it, the answer is simple. We fall in love, get married, and live happily ever after, right?


Here’s the problem with Jerry Maguire. And don’t worry Jerry, I’m not picking on you…this seems to be an epidemic (I’m guilty too). Unlike the search for the next American Idol, the missing puzzle piece to your heart isn’t hiding in a giant sea of people, waiting for their next audition. Your heart is not a diamond in the rough. You won’t find it in a bar, an online dating website, or on your next blind date.


The fact of the matter is this: the missing puzzle piece isn’t missing at all. You’ve had it all this time…you just didn’t realize it was there. You complete you.


I’ve learned the hard way. Being codependent in relationships is a recipe for disaster, and although it took some serious heartache and a massive amount of tears, I’ve accepted this simple truth.

Until I am happy with myself I can’t be happy with anyone else. It sounds cliché, and believe me, I realize it’s easier said than done…but it’s the truth.


In order to move on from my divorce, I had to take a close look in the mirror. I didn’t like everything I saw. I still don’t. But I’m working on it. I’m committed to completing myself. Then, and only then, will I be ready to share my heart with someone else.

-Holiday :)

Sunday, September 15, 2013

Guide to Divorced Not So Anonymous

My name is Valerie, and I am a divorcee.
Hello Valerie.
I have been divorced for 16 months now.
Good job Valerie.
It's day to day for me, especially last week when I seemed to be one of the only parents in my son's classroom that had to list mommy and daddy on separate lines for the class roster.

Why is it always the little stuff that ends up rocketing us towards either wanting to drink (yes, even in the middle of a kindergarten class orientation at 5:45 pm) or running to confessional (several Catholic churches nearby - check), or both?  I swear, I wish they had meetings structured like AA meetings for divorced people.  Only based on my recent experiences on the many many many forms I have filled out in the past couple months for my son to go to school, it would be called something more like Divorced Not So Anonymous.

Yes, I can see it now. There we would all sit, in a circle, introducing ourselves.  Saying our names and how long we had been divorced.  The only rule we would have would be that we wouldn't talk about our exes (or exeseses in my case).  We would only speak of the challenges and labels we faced as divorcees, and whoever had to reveal  they were divorced the most amount of times in a social setting or via forms that week in our group would win a prize.

For example, why do people always have to sigh or say "I'm sorry" when you state you are divorced.  Or why at the soccer team sidelines are the parents lined up like Noah's arc - two by two - and then ultimately always ask me if my husband is running late when I'm clearly missing the other giraffe to go with Noah's trusted pair.  There I am - exposed - the divorcee.  Yep married soccer moms, move you and your husbands flimsy weathered blue sports chair with the big tacky gator on it he's clearly had since his glory days in college, not safe near me the divorced lady.

Then there is the other side of the coin.  The people who try to make you feel "normal", as in clearly they believe the only normal is married, so they go out of their way to make you fit in.  Like when they are the sucker who asked you for the 4th time in a row at a function what your husband does or where is he, and that poor unsuspecting person sees your face look like the angry circular Lego faces on the mean characters, so they overcompensate.  Next thing you know you are hearing that her sister was divorced, and how much happier she is without him and is now officially off prozac!  And then she tells you how she would probably be better off divorced too because her husband never takes the trash out (yes, always a cliche like grievance inserted here...).  The finale is always something like, "Aren't you so lucky you have a standing babysitter every other weekend!"  As we say in the South, God love their sweet little souls.  And I do love their sweet little souls, because at least they are trying and giving me a good chuckle when I get to my car.

At the end of the day, why is there a stigmata for being "divorced", a "divorcee", or a "solo" giraffe boarding the arc with her baby giraffe(s) sans daddy giraffe.  If approximately 1 in 2 marriages ends in divorce, then why in the heck do I and several other divorced humans out there feel the society sting.  And once Noah steers that trusted arc to safety, the animals wearily disembarked two by two and bred and bred (and bred).  Then about 5 or 6 generations and 100's of animals of the same species later started breeding with multiple partners throughout their life.  True - just watch an hour or two of National Geographic channel - most animals are not monogamous and do not live with the same partner their entire life.  Yes, even the majority of animal species do not believe in "marriage" clearly yet I doubt they have to announce to the rest of the herd they are divorced at the big swamp party.

But now that I think about it, I kind of understand the typical reactions of society.  Divorce is indeed a sort of failure, and I'll go one further and call it a death.  So often times it is treated and grieved like one, and not just by the person getting divorced, but by anyone who speaks to you about it.  It is the death of a union. It is the death of a built in + one.  It is the death of some free time (especially for the primary parent).  It is the death of every day spent with your child if you had one.  And the biggest loss in my opinion - it is the death of your dream of a happily ever after with that person you trusted your "I do" with - however that dream looked to you walking down that aisle.  That my friends is probably why most everyone feels awkward when you declare  you are divorced, no matter how happy your face looks they know you have experienced both a loss and a type of death.

So maybe the problem starts with me and can help some of you.  After all, perception is everything.  Most likely I'm the one who needs to start smiling and giving out my best Dali Lama vibe when answering those where is your other half questions.  Something like smile and say I'm divorced and then just breathe instead of doing the clumsy Divorce Shuffle (take that Bears and your Superbowl Shuffle!).  Or maybe I just need to be wittier - like answer "I'm divorced and fabulous - Bravo tv and I are biffers at home how lucky am I!"  Or maybe, just maybe, I need to end my grieving process so that my face truly reflects how my heart feels - happy, at peace, and full of hope for a sun-shiny future full of love that supports instead of drains.

So here's to grieving and being fine with a Not So Anonymous Divorce.  I am not less of a human because my marriage(s) failed and I am divorced.  If anything I am a much better human being for making an extremely tough choice and sticking to my morals, values, and boundaries.  I'm almost there - the solo giraffe divorcee.

- Valerie
(Of Holiday and Valerie - the Ex-Wives!)




Hello and welcome to the Ex Wives’ Blog! Our mission is to share stories, golden nuggets of wisdom, and most of all, create a supportive environment for women who may need a little sunshine in their day. Don’t worry…this isn’t going to channel the angry divorced woman’s group from Jerry Maguire, but rather be a place where you laugh, smile, and know you’re not alone.

This blog isn’t just for ex wives. {shocker}  In fact it’s quite the opposite…we hope to have a nice chunk of happily married, and even single followers!  Sure, we are ex-wives, but this title does not define us. We are also girlfriends, sorority sisters, mothers, and upstanding citizens in our community. See? We’re just like YOU!

The one thing that might separate us from the norm? We share an ex- husband.

It’s true. We became friends thanks to a Facebook message, and the
rest is, well, history.

As our friendship developed, so did our passion for helping other women. That’s why we decided to write a book, The Ex Wives’ Guide to Divorce. But we’ll save details on that for later.

We simply wanted to introduce ourselves, let you know that EVERYONE is welcome, and encourage you to put a smile on someone’s face today!

Cheers,
Holiday 
(Of Holiday and Valerie - The Ex-Wives!)