Divorced Before 30

Some people crave drama, and if they don’t have any, they run out and stir some up. Start poking people in the eyes and whatnot. I am not one of those people. If I’m upset with someone, I’ll fight. And anyone who’s lived with me can tell you that I can be a real pain in the ass at times. In my family, we call this “feeling impossible.” But intentionally cooking up drama? Not my cup of tea.

I had just spent the last year of my life in drama central, so after my divorce, I worked intentionally to create a new normal. One where everyone spoke in their indoor voices and my heart was free to glory in the simple things. The timing couldn’t have been better, because Mother Nature waltzed right in and fed my soul a Minnesota autumn. My running routes were peppered with majestic maples, and the crisp air begged for another layer of clothes.

I spent my 9 to 5 alternating between my new home office and the coffee shops on Main Street. Between flurries of productivity, I nibbled cookies, sipped coffee, and soaked in the small-town culture. And, when I just couldn’t edit another page, I took Tucker for a brisk walk around the block. It was a very humane—and productive—way to work.

One of my favorite stops in town was a tiny brick oven bakery that makes the most incredible bread. I was a regular, and it was nice to chat with the friendly employees as I sampled buttered bits of their white-bread wonder, Children’s Pleasure. It made me nostalgic for the days when my pig-tailed self gobbled up Mom’s homemade bread as soon as it was cool enough to slice.

These were the slices of life that got me through each week, and on the weekends, I made every effort to be social. When someone extended an invitation, I said yes, even if I felt more like lolling about on the couch with a magazine. I went to movies with my parents, ran with Andrea and Daniela, and visited my baby nephew in the NICU. I even went to the homecoming football game at my alma mater with Kate, Jim, and Josh. It felt wonderful to be out in the fresh air, and even better to be out in public with my head held high.

That, my friends, was my new normal. Boring? Perhaps. But it was rich with simplicity, and I couldn’t have been more pleased.

*****

“The best things in life are nearest: Breath in your nostrils, light in your eyes, flowers at your feet, duties at your hand, the path of right just before you. Then do not grasp at the stars, but do life’s plain, common work as it comes, certain that daily duties and daily bread are the sweetest things in life.”
—Robert Louis Stevenson