Chapter Five: Holy Divorce Land Batman

Me, Susie, Annie and Julia. I dub us the Divorce Land Girls.

And by the way: hello, holy crap and wtf is going on? Is the earth moving through some kind of divorce force field? Has the entire world lost its mind? Is marriage all the sudden so last year? I mean really, four of us? All within shouting distance of each other? It was crazy when I disovered Susie, getting a little eerie when she and I found Annie, but with the addition of Julia this is just getting to be far too Twilight Zone.

Don't get me wrong, we're all happy to have found a solid circle that can relate to our very traumatic experiences, but even we are thinking this is just a little creepy. Even my own mother can't help but comment, "Are all your friends getting divorced?" Gee, sure seems that way, Mom, doesn't it?

Susie simply says, "It's God. It's just God. I don't understand how we are all going through this simultaneously."

"It's super weird," Annie concurs.

"Well I could care less how and why we all connected but here we are. Thank God, Thank Weird, Thank Alanis Morrisette because isn't it ironic, that's all I can say," smart ass Julia chimes in.

And so here we are. The Divorce Land girls. Navigating our very unique yet similar paths through divorce.

Side by side.

Chapter Six: Divorce Nuggets

By now it is obvious that this blog is dedicated to one aspect of our story and one only: Our friendships. The details of our divorces shall not appear on this blog. They are complex, emotional, and involve the loves of our lives: our children.

And as for our ex-husbands, even though we are no longer married to these men they are individuals who continue to deserve respect. Well, at least when it comes to a public forum. As for bitching and moaning about their shortcomings at the local Starbucks with the Divorce Land Girls, sign me up. Is an hour enough time? How about two? But here, no.

Instead, I want to deviate briefly and post some nuggets of truth that I either stubbed my toe on when I wasn't looking, (Ouch! What the? Who left this piece of divorce wisdom lying in the hallway?) or had thrust upon me be wise divorce veterans who held me down against my will and force fed me information I needed to savor. (Hey, not bad. Is that a hint of lemon? Can I have seconds?)

First Nugget:

"When your divorce becomes public, you will not receive support from the expected places. But you WILL receive support from the unexpected place."

At the time this advice was given to me, by a very dear friend who had gone through a divorce ten years prior, I didn't believe her at all. Thought she was more full of crap than a nursing infant. (We all know breast milk is explosive the second time around.)

As she shared, I smiled politely while resisting the urge to scream, "What F'ing Ever!" For at the precise moment she was bestowing her experiences with divorce, my best friend of six years had announced she needed to distance herself from me in order to "protect herself." As if my divorce was a contagious disease she could catch or a horrible traffic accident she needed to shield her family's eyes from. It was excruciatingly painful to lose her love and support. We were both devout Catholics and she simply could not accept my decision. I think I created a pile of Kleenex that rivaled Mt. Everest when she chose to abandon our friendship the same week my husband bought all new furniture and secured an apartment downtown.

Several months later, here I am and this blog is case in point that this nugget is TRUE. I never could have predicted the Divorce Land Girls in a million years. And yet, here we are. Calling each other every night, buying each other supportive books, being each others dates on the weekends. I have more love and support than I could ever have hoped for.

She was right. Even though I tossed her divorce wisdom aside at the time, I practically lost an eye when I tripped over it later in the form of the Divorce Land Girls.

Second Nugget:

"What people don't understand is that when the divorce decision is made, it is not as if there is any other healthy choice left to make. It is THE only choice left to make."

Now, this nugget is not true for everyone. There probably are shallow people out there who view marriage as disposable. Those of the pre-nuptial variety who have the paper shredder poised to rip apart the marriage certificate at the first sign of unhappiness. None of the Divorce Land Girls are cut from this cloth. Counseling has been sought, books have been read, and clergy have provided counsel. These marriages did not end without a fight to the death in some way, shape or form.

But the truth in this nugget is that marriage is about two people, and when you simply do not have two people putting in their fair share, no matter how badly one of you wants the marriage to succeed, it can't stand on two feet. It needs four.

And this is true no matter which side of a divorce you are on. That is the absolute truth and bottom line. It takes two. And you can not choose otherwise if you do not have that. There is simply no other choice when both parties are not "in."

This is hard for people on the outside to sometimes digest and accept. But guess what: not your problem. Your focus is your family, your children, and your life. You can't live your life for everyone else and divorce does not instantly make you shallow and selfish if it is the only responsible decision left to make when all other options have been exhausted. Noble people get divorced. Good people get divorced. Smart people get divorced. People who BELIEVE in marriage get divorced. Shockaroo.

Try that conflicting concept on for size. I first heard that one from a life coach who asserted, "People who pursue divorce actually believe in the true purpose of marriage almost more so than some of their married counterparts. After all, they chose to divorce because they refused to settle for something less. They believe marriage should be MORE. And so they sacrafice immensely in pursuit of that truth." The woman who made this mind boggling statement had actually been married to an alcoholic for twenty years. Divorced for five. And happily remarried for three. Call me crazy, but I am thinking she knows what she is talking about.

It took me a while to grapple with the reality of this particular nugget myself, even when I was in the midst of my own divorce. Had I done all I could? Was I making the right decision? Several "what if's" piled up in front of me and I felt obligated to carefully examine each and every one (as I should.) And when I had taken absolute and complete stock of my life and forged ahead with the divorce, it still took a while to swallow this truth whole, but when I did it wasn't as bitter as I thought it would be.

It was truth, and the truth is always sweet.

Chapter Four: The Fourth Girl

The fact that two nights later I am heading off to Wine Night with another group of girlfriends really does make me appear far more popular and cool than I truly am. Let me explain: I started Wine Night roughly a year ago when I cunningly convinced the women from my faith sharing church group that wouldn't it be fun to meet outside of church on occasion? And involve alcohol?

I am all for church, don't get me wrong, but I am also all for wine. As was Jesus come to think of it. Hence, social butterfly wine drinking persuasive heathen that I am, this group of women now makes a regular pilgrimage to a local restaurant for half price bottles of wine every third Monday. In addition to this negative influence I also take full credit for re-branding this gathering "Whine Night" as truly, we spend the bulk of our timing bitching about our husbands, let's be honest.

Alright, as long as I am coming clean, I will admit the obvious. I am social. And a control freak. I think, a healthy combo. Without people like me, everyone would just sit home watching Grey's Anatomy and communities would disintegrate. Well, communities of women drinking wine and solving all the problems of the world. Oh, the horror. That being said, I can now reveal that of course, I arrive early and secure the table. Get over it, yes, I am "that woman." I also arrive early so I can order a giant plate of appetizers. Hey, I'm getting divorced. I am running on the treadmill 10,000 miles a week at approximately 50 mph. I have worked up an appetite.

As I sit alone devouring my flat bread, the only person who eventually shows is Julia. Grabbing a piece of my coveted app, she inquires, "So are we the only two showing up tonight or what?" Whine Night is weird that way. It's a group of approximately eight of us so you never know who is going to arrive on any given third Monday. Every once in a while planets align, the seas part, and the schedules of eight busy women mysteriously sync up. On those nights, the conversations run the gamut, from Anderson Cooper's 360 degree view of Drafar to the benefits of a Brazilian wax (trust me, there are plenty!). On this particular night though, it's just Julia. And damn, she is eating all my flat bread!

The wine starts flowing and of course, my life is public pain and so I dominate the conversation. I have known Julia for almost eight years, and even though I am madly in love with her soul, it is buried behind a concrete fortress one hundred miles high. I don't know if it was the wine, the stars, or what but one hour later we are in desperate need of more napkins as needless to say Julia's fortress is a pile of rubble and her soul is naked on the heap. I am sobbing, Julia is bawling, and all the patrons around us are trying not to have their appetites ruined by two chicks creating far too much snot in a public place.

And yes, if you could not guess, Julia's marriage is ending as well.

Julia is the fourth girl.

Chapter Three; Three Happy Girls

Susie and I adopt Annie. We spend the rest of the night comparing notes, ordering another round, and marveling at the irony of our simultaneous marital crisis.

None of our stories are the same, there is no "one size fits all" when it comes to the demise of any relationship, and the three of us are no exception. Our own stories are a cocktail of misteps, bad decisions, and years of resentments that all culminated in sending the three of us hurtling down the Divorce Land highway.

"He wants out. He just wants out," Susie states matter oh factly. "But I am going to fight for this. When I said until death do we part, I meant it. He says that he thinks I am fighting only because I am afraid of divorce. Give me a break! I told him, 'I am not afraid of divorce! I have many blessings in life, a great job, two beautiful children, a supportive family. If you do this, I will make it. I will survive. And I will go on. I don't want a divorce because I LOVE YOU, you asshole!' "

Annie and I practically drown in our laughter at Susie's candor. When we recover, Annie offers, "Well, I wish I were as resolved as you. I am not sure how I feel. I would like to stay as well, but I can't stay in this very empty existence any longer. He ignores me, he absolutely ignores me. I am like a piece of furniture, something to show off, and nothing more. He is constantly traveling, and I am so lonely. Aren't you supposed to get married to be with someone? I am more lonely married than I ever was single, and this is just wrong. It's just wrong. I can't do this, I am going to be 40, I don't want to spend the rest of my life alone. But if I stay here, I will. I will be alone. We are supposed to go to the Carribean next week. Ten days. How? Ten days in paradise, but living a hellish existence."

"The Carribean?" Susie asks and cocks an eyebrow. "Hell, Audra and I will come with you. Screw him! Bring us!"

More laughter.

And so from the outside, we are just three happy women having our own little Sex in the City get together at a local hotspot. But the truth is we are witnesses to an end, and there are many, many tears beneath the smiles.

Chapter Two: The Third Girl

Susie and I Find Annie

Susie and I moved from two play date moms to cemented sisterhood in a four hour marathon coffee date a week later. Like two soldiers at war, we bond as we tell of our battles, losses, and wounds. It was more than just commisserating. The experience of seperation and pending divorce is an isolating experience. People don't know what to say, so they don't say anything. Friends fade, and you are left feeling like you have an incurable disease. But instead of being sentenced to soliditude on an uncharted island, it was as if this curly haired castaway had discovered my island, rowed to shore, and announced grinning that she was here to share my island. She didn't have the map back to civilization either, but the good news was at least we had each other.

Susie and I quickly decided that first and foremost we would do what any other good women in such circumstances would do: Get drunk. As soon as possible. Truth be told, this was more my idea than Susie's, but I am super sales woman of the universe and it wasn't long before I had her convinced that many of our immediate problems could be solved by no less than three martinis.

The next weekend finds Susie and I downtown huddled on a couch in a swanky bar, and I honestly deserve some kind of award for getting this woman to stop talking long enough to actually drink her martinis. Niether of us are truly drinkers, so we are enjoying our brief detour into alcohol induced amnesia when I notice another acquaintence of mine standing in the middle of the room.

Annie.

She is talking on her cell phone and looks completely out of place, like a little lost imp in a sea of drunken college students. That's Annie, I tell Susie. What is she doing here?

Annie is my former backyard neighbor, the epitome of a trophy wife. Her husband a powerful and influential member of our community. And other than the fact that she used to live by me and I've always thought she was a sweetheart, I know very little about her.

I swoop to her side and faster than you say island dwelling martini sipping soon to be divorce' Annie confesses a series of truths that bring her solidly into a club that only an hour before, had only held two girls.

Now there are three.

Chapter One: The Second Girl

I Find Susie
"Thanks for the play date!" I call out to Susie. As usual she is smiling her trademark grin, one of the few things I really know about her. The woman is perpetually happy. I am convinced she receives royalty checks from the drug company that produces Prozac. She probably just spits in a cup once a week, her magical happiness saliva single handedly curing no less than 10,000 people of depression.

"You too!" I smile back as I deposit my daughter in her car seat, and then drive back home to Divorce Land, all the while secretly hating Susie for being so damn happy. We hardly know each other, but we are nieghbors and our daughters are the same age. She is on the parameter of my world, and completely oblivious to the fact that my husband moved out just a few weeks ago.

Two weeks later the gossip grapevine snakes its way to my social circle and my neighbor is revealing in a hushed whisper on the sidewalk. Did you here? Susie's husband moved out. He wants a divorce. NO! Not always so smiley I want to smack her Susie? Not that Susie! Yes, that Susie.

I can not get to my phone fast enough. I leave an endless voicemail on Susie's cell at least ten minutes long. I practically beg her to meet me for coffee. My husband moved out two weeks ago I blurt. Little did I know, Susie is the queen of rambling voicemails, and in the months to come it would be her sea of words that would come to my rescue.

Here I thought I was on the only one in this landscape of marital despair. Now there are two of us.

I am the first girl.

Susie is the second.