Dear Tia,
I am going through a difficult divorce. The most difficult part is looking at my own behavior in this miserable union and divorcing the old part of myself that used to be in that partnership. I have physically left the relationship but I am still standing in this familiar territory, with my co-dependent patterns, my addictions and my crippling self-doubt.
I wanted to make a quick turn-around, to prove to myself and to everyone else that the problem was and is and has always been him! But I know that’s not true.
This is a dark night for my ego, dear Tia, in which I am left to wrestle with my demons, look at my need for approval and face my disgusting thoughts about how I imagined I needed him to survive.
I need a quick fix! This transformation thing is getting old. I want my shiny new wings to unfurl NOW.
How much more time will it take? Am I done yet? How will I know...?
What am I missing here?
Signed,
Impatient and Ready To Fly
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Dear Impatient Flyer:
Divorce. By the time a person decides they’re ready for the big D, the dream of ‘the other side’ has grown so compelling, it calls to you like a big beautiful lit up trap door that promises to eliminate all the crap you face daily. In this dream you get to emerge from the dark theater playing your horror film on a loop tape, and stumble into the warm sunshine. You pinch yourself while blinking back tears of joy, so relieved to be breathing fresh air, alone, in a beautiful world. The myth of the trap-door divorce is irresistible, a drunken daydream full of benevolent fairies making life easy.
If only it were so.
You nailed it when you said you must divorce an old part of yourself. Divorcing your partner is easy compared to that. Parts of yourself must be examined; you know, the parts that accommodated, enabled, numbed, and allowed the dysfunctional interactions? Well, that’s what you want to be 100% sure you recognize and name and discuss with your therapist and by all means don’t bundle up and drag along with you into future relationships.
In your letter, you begin to talk about taking personal responsibility, seeing your part, and dealing with it. How responsible of you, Impatient. How refreshing to see you have such integrity.
Your impatience is understandable. It’s also a form of resistance. There is no hurrying along this human development process. Sink into it like feet sinking into a sandy bottomed lake. It’s cold and the unknown is squishing between your toes. It’s exciting, and perhaps you feel exhilarated? Let yourself be surrounded by the truth of your unexamined shadows, your contribution to the messed up enterprise of marriage. Welcome the shadows, and bring your curiosity to the table. “What is this? And this? And this?” You have begun this never ending process, but impatience is stalling it.
If only you could see around corners. Alas, you are a “muggle”, and must be bashed over the head with your hard earned insight, just like the rest of us.
There is no quick turnaround. I encourage you to let it unfold. Meanwhile, find your best girlfriends, the ones who really get you, and head out into the wild to remember yourself. Who are you without the weight of a failing relationship? What do you love? What do you want? What dreams are still alive?
“This is a dark night for my ego, dear Tia, in which I am left to wrestle with my demons, look at my need for approval and face my disgusting thoughts about how I imagined I needed him to survive.”
Let’s look at this sentence. Yes, you are having a dark night of the ego, and wrestling with your demons. Yes, you are looking at your need for approval and facing thoughts you deem “disgusting”. The first part of this sentence is a great launch into honesty, kudos to your courage. I also invite you to be kinder to yourself. Labeling your thoughts about needing him as ‘disgusting’ is brutal. The truth is you did need him. You entered into a partnership believing that you both needed and wanted each other. Somewhere that went astray. That fact doesn’t make you weak or wrong or pathetic or disgusting.
Au contraire.
People need each other and you were willing to be vulnerable and hold your hand out in an open-hearted invitation for connection. That it wasn’t reciprocated, or didn’t last, isn’t on you. In a marriage, people are meant to be there for each other. That you expected such behavior doesn’t make you disgusting. It makes you a tender human.
What are your shiny new wings made of? All the new wings I’ve ever seen are made of mistakes and wounds and blood and regret and wrong turns and messiness and tears and fear and loneliness. Those gnarly ingredients get transformed by some mysterious alchemical process into wings, stamped with red letters spelling out the words “fresh start” on the edges.
There is no arrival in this human development process. Lucky for us, we get to unfold into another unfolding, and learn all along the way, until we go tits up.
You ask, “what am I missing?”. I don’t have the answer. I only want to invite you to not miss anything. Welcome it all.
Even when you are feeling impatient, invite that in too. When you want to fly, run to the woods or to the lake, and sink into the mystery of that beauty, connect it to your beauty. Use the energy bound up in your impatience to make your life how you want it to be. Don’t miss a thing. Every minute is yours. Don’t wish it away. It’s all here for you.
Love,
Tia
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