Anticlimactic. That’s often the feeling when you’ve waited well beyond the time you expected to wait for something to happen. It’s part Finally! and a little bit of That’s it? tossed with, in my case, I’m so grateful to be divorced.
I had no expectations, no plans to celebrate, no ritual to mark the day. I did take note of the fact that we got married on 1/10 and divorced on 10/1, but that’s as far as I went in pondering the meaning of yesterday, the day I signed our divorce papers. Or as they are now called – the Marital Settlement Agreement.
The big signing took place at Mailbox Services Plus. It should have been named Mailbox Services Plus a Whole, Whole Lot More. At the same time I was having my signature notarized I could have bought a pleather purse in fuscia, a thong and matching pushup bra, a scrunchie, a pullover dress covered in a banana print or reserved one of the wood-doored mailboxes lining one wall. For those who wish to buy a parting gift of jewelry for their soon to be former spouse, necklaces filled a glass case. For those wishing to celebrate with their mistress, feather boas filled another.
I probably could have bought a puppy and lawnmower there, too.
Ten dollars, cash only, later and I was officially notarized. There was no perceptible difference between the before and after. I walked to the attorney offices of my former spouse. The lights were off. I slid the envelope under the door and walked away.
Between then and now I’ve tuned in to see how I feel. I’m glad to finally have a document signed. Not that it means much. It’s paper. I’ve been divorced for a few weeks over two years. Technically, I’ve been divorced since the first time he cheated on me. And the document isn’t a living, breathing thing that will smack him upside the head if he doesn’t abide by it.
Just yesterday I was called a bully for requesting that my support check be on time. Which it wasn’t.
So, there’s not much to celebrate there.
My divorce is but one bead in an elaborate mosaic of beads in every known color that undulate and flow forth, creating my path. I’m not going to balance on my tippy toes on that one bead. I was hundreds of beads away before I left the parking lot.
On my way to the notary I was speaking with a kitten. She felt much the same as I did when she divorced – This feels so anticlimactic. As if I’m signing for a package I know is empty. But then, she said, she felt a subtle shift; she felt a little lighter. She could let go. Stop resisting. And once she did the floodgates opened.
As I write this, the indifference I feel about my divorce is slowly being replaced by excitement. Drop by drop in a vast, dry lake. My divorce is a circumstance, a feature in my life. No longer in process, it adds a permanent brushstroke to my portrait. Defining features, creating shades of light and dark. Adding interest. On top of it will be layered many more strokes. I still need to deal with my former spouse. There will be growing pains. There is still a whole lot of anger and resentment directed at me. But now, more than ever, I have no excuse for engaging. I’m not negotiating with him anymore. (Although I had to take a break there for a call that only serves to remind me about the importance of boundaries and accountability.) There’s no battle to win. My Ego is in Tahiti, snorkeling.
And I’ve got a life to live here.
A future to create. Two dudes to love and teach and make beautiful memories with as we hold hands and continue down an ever-changing path of little beads that tickle our feet and challenge our balance. I pick my head up and look around and see your smiles, the excitement in your eyes, your energy. Our looks to each other say, We have such a gift – to be right here, right now!
I’m vibrating back unconditional love and optimism.
Thank you so much for walking with me and for inviting me to walk with you.
In just a few words I’ve gone from feeling indifferent to feeling massive waves of gratitude.
I’m all filled up and ready to go.