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!

Have You Ever Felt Invisible?

Have you noticed now that you are past menopause and a few wrinkles have appeared around your mouth and eyes that men simply ignore you and that their gazes invariably land on younger women? Have you noticed how society in general just assumes that a woman past 50 is uninteresting and that even people who know you better than most tend to discount your opinion?

Why is this?

I recall talking to a man my age last year. He was single and so was I. But then a married woman in her thirties joined us. Yes, she was attractive, but she was MARRIED. Never mind. He ignored me for the rest of the evening, even though we sat side by side and he had to talk over me to flirt with her. Any time I spoke up, he gave me short shrift. I felt like kicking him in the b-lls, er, shins. It was not as if he was God's gift to women. In high school or college I would have dismissed him as not my type. Small comfort now when my dating pool has shrunk to about 1.2 eligible and interesting men per 1,000 square miles.

I spent Friday evening with three women - two in their twenties and one in her mid-thirties. They absolutely embraced my presence and were so flattering. We spoke about work, men, girlfriends, children, ambitions, renting apartments, the economy, clothes, politics, movies, books, Richmond events, and a series of other topics that kept me interested and on my toes. I felt ENERGIZED. Moreover, the three young ladies wanted to repeat the evening and invited me to join them again.

And yet . . . while they drew the admiring glances from men, those same men (all but one was younger than me), gave me not a single interested glance.

Here is what happened with my last "beau," who has been my friend since college. We were both divorced within 4 years of each other, and three years ago we became 'romantic." I had a hope that our relationship would lead to something, but it did not. By August I had not seen him in nine months. My silence was deliberate. He seemed to have lost interest in me and so I disappeared. When a conference brought me near him, I let him know that I would be in the neighborhood. I wanted, once and for all, to know why things had cooled off.

He absolutely insisted on seeing me, going through great lengths to meet me, and so I felt flattered. I recall preening like a sixteen-year-old on her first date. The moment he entered the seedy bar he had suggested, he said: "There might be some drama tonight. My girlfriend and her ex might show up." He then proceeded to talk about his new love for the next hour. Any time I brought up a topic related to what I had been doing, he failed to follow up with a question, bringing the subject back to his love, who, poor woman, had endured 17 years of a bad marriage.

Not once did he notice my arm protecting my middle section, and my other hand hiding my mouth. Any person trained in reading body language (as he was) would have seen that I was in pain. I excused myself and went to the bathroom, where I paced up and down the small room, wondering how long I could last. He had driven an hour to see me, so I figured I could give him the same amount of time for his effort: I would stay one more hour max. I returned to our table with a new attitude, determined to ask him some honest questions and speak my mind.

When he began to describe his new love's drama queen behavior and how he felt she should get therapy and how she felt he needed to change, I told him that he was ok just as he was, and while I understood that sex could be great after an argument, that he was not describing a mature relationship. Needless to say he was not interested in my opinion.

That was all I said. I mentioned a few other things I had been doing, not from any prompting on his side, and then (gratefully) left. The following morning he sent me her picture.

Did I tell you how he had described her? "5'5" - like you. 30 lbs. overweight - like you. Funny - like you. Bawdy - like you."

But not me.

When I looked at the picture I laughed. I saw someone 8 years younger than myself, with an extremely short neck, and hair redder than Lucille Ball's. Ok, so I shouldn't emphasize her physical attributes. This woman has a law degree, three children, and lives in a section of town that I can only dream about. Yet for all that he was telling me in what he thought was the most flattering light possible, she sounded like a whining and controlling person. Wonder of wonders, he is genuinely attracted to her drama. When he spoke of her, he seemed all a tingle and alive. His eyes kept darting to the door (for he had invited her to join us) and on his cell phone, hoping to see a message. Aargh! Talk about feeling invisible. I realized that in the entire two hours we were together he was talking about her, seeing her in his mind's eye, and looking for her. I could just as well have been a statue for all he cared.

My only response to her rather ordinary image was to wish him well and tell him that I was happy he had found someone to love. I have not heard from him since. Ever since I received her photo, the song "Insensitive" has played in my mind. The words Jan Arden sings in her video express how I feel and felt about my male friend's behavior. (No, I am not pining for him. Life is too short. But I do miss his friendship, which has been absent since he began dating her.) Do not EVER sleep with a friend of the opposite sex. Ninety nine percent of the time this will lead to the end of that friendship.



I think I shall just hang around with my girlfriends for a while and enjoy being seen and heard. For the time being I'll stick with relationships that are life-affirming.