It sounds like a horrible thing to say especially coming out of a domestic violence situation. The sheer fact that I’m with my children and we’re in a happy loving safe home, it truly is all I need, but given I live in a first world country abiding in it are first world problems; therefore divorce is worse than death.
Dramatic as it seems, think about it. When there’s a death people expect you to walk around in a daze to go through the stages of grief. Your loved ones send flowers, neighbors and friends sign up to bring meals.
People give you consideration. It’s an excusable absence from work or school. Airlines even offer bereavement discounts. Death can bring insurance pay checks, social security may start sending checks. Again I’m merely comparing two losses!
Divorce on the other hand for me anyways has been lonely. Friends can shy away from a domestic violence situation which is heartless but understandable. There are no flowers, which would actually be really nice. No one cooks meals or drops off cakes and casseroles. Again people distance themselves, no one wants to take a side. There’s no excused absences from school or work. No special priced airline tickets, and absolutely zero checks in the mail.
I never really compared the two. I just walked along like everyone else, I baked a pound cake and stood in line at a viewing or just hugged a friend until they ran out of tears over the loss of a loved one. I think people struggle in sympathizing with divorce for several reasons. You made the choice, you left, you chose poorly. And you’re declaring yourself a quitter. A few domestic violence campaigns try to rally the term survivor. But quitter seems to be more of what it feels like. I made the right decision. I was married for sixteen years. I wanted to be married for life. I didn’t find someone new, I didn’t get bored and start messing around. Sometimes even peacemakers have a lines that can’t be crossed. Everyone has a limit, and unlike my capital one card, my limits had deep pockets. So when my depths were reached, when my boundaries were blown to bits, It even surprised me. Sometimes a torched bridge can’t be built back, not only can’t but shouldn’t.
So I find myself alone with three kids in a tiny apartment, looking around for the next thing I can list on ebay. Wondering why I took the time to throw myself a pity party. Anyways from this day forward I will look for ways to love a friend through the death of a marriage. I will hug her till her tears run out as she mourns the demise of a thousand dreams. I will distract her children with encouragement and playdates, I’ll bake cakes and send flowers. That’s how you right wrong, you forge a new path. You rewrite your history by changing someone else’s destiny.
Love never fails…