Originally, Divorced Before 30 was a “blogoir” (blog meets memoir). It was the first draft of my memoir, From Splitville, With Love. In 2011, I opened up the site up to guest posts from other writers. As of July 2012, I am no longer updating this blog, but I hope that it will continue to be a resource for those who find themselves facing a divorce before age 30.
I am a thirtysomething Minneapolis-based writer who was divorced at age 29. The photo on my blog header is an honest-to-goodness wedding day shot. What can I say? At the time, I thought it was hilarious—the “dead end” sign symbolizing my last day of freedom as a single woman. I had no idea how accurately this shot depicted my wedding day! Check out my other blog, Emmasota.
Readers’ Praise for the Blogoir
“I love that you are sharing all those insecurities that a lot of us experience in relationships.”
“I have read your entire blog today…and have loved it.”
“This is like a novel, but juicier!”
“Your writing is witty and profound. Your story is riveting. Thanks so much for bearing your soul to all of us.”
“This is like the beginning of a novel I can’t put down…”
“You are a natural writer and should consider turning this into a book. Chick lit with intelligence.”
“I spent a rather unproductive work day yesterday reading your entire blog—I was hooked right away and am dying for the continuation via book.”
“I’m a 29 year old who left my husband 3 days ago. This is the hardest time of my life and reading your daily ups and downs during the time of your own marriage is an inspiration.”
How I Left My Husband on My Lunch Break
This is the opening scene of my blogoir in which I wrote my husband a “Dear John” letter and drove home to Minnesota.
“After I left my husband, I was showered with e-mails and calls of the I’m-here-for-you ilk.” Sometimes they were less than helpful. Especially this one: “Thank God you didn’t have kids with him.” My biological clock was ticking.
Scene of the Crime
“Believe it or not, I went to church on the Sunday following my Catholic beat-down. My parents encouraged me to join them at the campus chapel where I got married, and I fell for it.”
After my parents left town, I went to stay with my church friends, Julie and Jodi, and their five-month-old son, Reuben. In this post, I reflect on gay marriage.
Dissolved and Disillusioned
In this post, I describe what it was like to get divorced. “I was entirely disillusioned with the process, but I had the two things I had come back to reclaim (besides my favorite jeans): My last name and my life.”