Loss of Status After Divorce: Or the New Invisibles

Ladies in Lavender Image@Having a Solid Gold Life

A book club friend and I met recently and discussed her recent divorce. (She's my age and was married for 25 years to my 26.)

Sherry (not her name) mentioned that the transition went smoothly. She and her husband knew that they would be divorcing for a number of years, about 4 or 5, but they stayed together for the sake of the children, who were about to graduate from high school and enter college.

He made more than a comfortable living. In fact, their 2-story house was more 6,000 sq ft.and a bargain compared to their digs in New England.

He earned most of the money.

But she was a computer programmer, or coder, and could find a job whenever she needed one. Still, her salary was worth a quarter of his.

Flash forward...

He found a new love and a new life, and she moved out of the house after his insistence that they sell it for its equity. Most of their fabulous furniture would have to go (I bought a beautiful Sheraton sideboard).

He continued living a lavish lifestyle with his Tootsie. She moved into a 2-bedroom, 925 sq foot apartment - alone and happy as a clam.

My opinion of her rose when she entertained us in her much reduced circumstances, uncomplaining and making the most of her new life. She seemed to blossom, losing weight and laughing more than I had ever seen her laugh.

We met several weeks ago over dinner and drinks. After a long, honest conversation,  the one thing that Sherry regretted was her loss of social status. I agreed with her assessment. We were the new invisibles. No one, not our old couples friends or the men our age that we encountered, noticed us much any more.

Here we were, two women of a certain age cast upon the job market in our fifties, having to fend for ourselves, yet rising to the top of our respective professions. We had made it despite the odds! We were paying our bills, our mortgages, adding our own money to our pensions, and pursuing our passions as far as our jobs and personal preferences were concerned.

BUT...!!

We both agreed that one of the hardest changes we faced was our loss of social status as wives who had entertained a large cadre of married and professional friends.

We had become invisible to society at large - rarely invited to couples parties or weekends away at a lake house with a group, and no longer noticed by men our age. At best, for me, I was invited to womens' luncheon during the week when I worked, which meant that I had to leave the gathering early.We were regarded as non-entities when we did receive the rare invitation to social events with both men and women, finding ourselves seated with other single ladies.

As married hostesses we both had invited single women and single men to our homes to fill in the odd chair at the dining table or attend our barbecues and picnics and mingle, mingle, MINGLE! I took it as a point of pride to make no distinction between couples or singles when I made up my guest lists. After my divorce, I discovered that my married friends were not equally inclined. As one coolly honest "friend" said to me, "It isn't personal, really, but you are a reminder of how fragile marriages can be. Besides, you've made new friends, haven't you?" Color her clueless.

During our most recent outing on a Friday night after work, Sherry and I again commiserated on our loss of social status and largely female lives, but since we were enjoying ourselves and each others' company, we exclaimed, "What the hell!" We clinked our glasses and confirmed our love for each others' company and independent lives, determined not  to dwell too much on the loss of our old couples' friends and our once active social lives.

When I hear music wafting into my yard from a young neighbor's couples party, I still feel an occasional twinge. But not as often as I used to.

More on the topic:

• Click here to read this Daily Mail article about why women are invisible over 45.
• The Hard Truth About Getting Old
• Age Has Nothing to do With Love!

Surviving the Holidays When You're Sad

Yes, it's been a while since my divorce, but I can still vividly recall my first Christmas alone. Not having kids made the experience even lonelier. I cried, usually by myself, in my car as I arrived to or left parties, feeling like the odd duck, the single person in a sea of couples, and hugely conspicuous as a result.

I had reached a point where I was tired of casual acquaintances approaching me, their expressions full of concern, yet keeping their distance, and saying in an overly loud voice, "Aw, how are you?" as if I was deaf, or worse, had caught a fatal disease. My friends knew better than to bring the divorce up over and over. And I dreaded these encounters with 'almost strangers', and literally just shrank away. The last thing I needed during this celebratory time was a reminder over and over and over of my situation with questions like, "How are you? I am amazed to see you doing so well. How are you carrying on? You look so good." etc. etc. etc.

Giving my own holiday party for the first time also felt strange. There was no one to help me put up the decorations, no host to greet couples at the door as I puttered in the kitchen, and no one to help clean up afterwards. That first time around I had made the mistake of inviting our old couples friends, making Bob's absence even more glaring. Now I know to mix things up, and to arrange for a cleaning service to give my house a once a year cleaning AFTER I've had people over.

That first holiday alone, I had made arrangements to be with family, of course. And everyone was super solicitous and nice. But deep inside I grieved. I missed my familiar Christmas morning rituals at home in my robe, opening our stockings, sipping coffee, and listening to soft traditional music, while our tree lights glittered in the background. We had collected ornaments from every country and state we visited, and they hung on our tree like old friends. We would often loll in bed, savoring our time together, then pack up the car and visit one of the family, his side one year, my side the other year. As Bob walked out the door, he took all those rituals with him.

I didn't think things could get worse, and then New Year's arrived. There was no one to turn to first when the clock struck twelve. My mother turned to my father, my brother to his wife, and the kids turned to each other. Then they turned to me. Talk about feeling left out.

The pain of those first bewildering years is now largely gone. I still find New Year's difficult, and I recall crying last year as the two couples I was with danced slowly in each others' arms. My tears came unbidden, much to my chagrin, for I thought I had come to grips with my situation.

If you are reading this blog because you are in pain, and because it is the middle of the night and you can't sleep, then take heart and know that during divorce or the loss of a loved one we all go through this stage of enormous grief, loneliness, and pain. Sometimes you will literally not know what to do with yourself, because no matter how hard you try to put the divorce behind you and how loyally your follow the advice of your counselors, family, and friends, that deep physical pain remains inside of you, cutting you at the most unexpected times.

I savored the few moments when I could forget about the divorce, when I could laugh and be in the moment. Those small islands of happiness and contentment saved me. As time passed these islands grew larger, and that large sea of unhappiness shrank.

Below is my advice to you this holiday season. I wrote these tips last year, but they are worth revisiting:

If you are going through the first stages of raw grief:

• Do not spend the holidays alone.
• Do not spend the holidays with strangers.
• Spend your days with family.
• If you do not get along with your family, spend as much time as you can with close friends.

• If you cannot bear to stay home for the holiday, pick a place you've always wanted to visit, like Vermont or Italy or a local attraction.
• Do not go alone on a tour group.
• Bring along a close family member or friend.

• Do not resurrect a ritual that only you and your spouse shared.
• Start your own new rituals, like inviting close friends over for a tree decorating ceremony.

If you are feeling less vulnerable and somewhat strong:

• If you cannot bear to be alone and can't afford to take a trip away, call a homeless shelter or church, and arrange to be among people who are helping others transition through grief or pain. By helping others, you will discover how strong you are. Every time I thought life couldn't get worse, I would encounter someone in worse pain and need. This did not alleviate my own pain, but such a person would bring me outside of myself. It was a powerful feeling to be wanted and needed at a time when I felt like discarded garbage.
  
• If you feel too vulnerable to do the above, fill a Christmas stocking for a poor child. The act of filling that stocking will take your mind off your grief.
• Or visit an elderly person who has no family close by at a nursing home. Bring them something special that they can use, like perfume or scented drawer liners.
  
• Help a nonprofit organization arrange their holiday party for their clients and volunteers.
  
• Or join a nature group and volunteer to count migrating birds.

Whatever you decide to do, find ways to keep yourself creatively and actively busy. Leave yourself no time to wallow in your loneliness, not unless you feel strong enough to weather your emotions alone.

If you are feeling strong:

• Sometimes, curling up with a good book, a lovely glass of wine, with your pet in your lap, and surrounded by the sound of beautiful music is more soothing than an evening spent among strangers.
• Or rent ten movies you've always wanted to see, and hold a mini movie fest at home.

Here are some helpful links:

• Surviving the holidays without a partner
• Alone in Canada, Celebrating the holidays
• Ten Tips for Enjoying the Holidays Alone
• Home Alone for the Holidays
• How To Enjoy Being Alone for the Holidays
  

Image above is from RavX Rawl, entitled, Happy New Year

Living Alone: Mechanical Skills 101

I just assembled a small table I bought at Ikea. Last week I put two bookcases from Target together. Yesterday I connected my new high definition t.v. and followed the set up instructions to select my cable channels. I'm able to transfer photos from my digital camera, add new peripherals to my computer and CD player, and am about to connect my new DVD player to my new t.v. I've also figured out how to reformat my computer and save my files to an external hard drive.

When I was married I did none of these things. These days, necessity has become the mother of invention. I cannot always depend on the kindness of strangers to help my with ordinary household tasks, so I learned to observe, ask questions, and read the instruction manual.

I ask for help only for the tasks that require strength. It's a brand new world, and frankly, I take pride in these small but essential accomplishments. It hasn't been easy though, and I thank my lucky stars for Henry, the young helpful geek who moved in next door.

Here are some other tips for handling life alone:

Learning to live alone

Making living alone rewarding