Divorced Before 30 » dating

Why a Breakup isn’t the Same as a Divorce

Emma — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 03:14:41 +0000

A breakup can be brutal, no doubt about it. But it’s not the same as a divorce, and here’s why:

In a breakup, you (hopefully) don’t need to hire a lawyer or appear in court. While a breakup could involve a restraining order or a financial dispute, generally speaking, there aren’t any legal implications to splitting up with your boyfriend or girlfriend.

In a breakup, you’re not judged for failing to uphold some moral standard. Well, hopefully you aren’t judged when going through a divorce, either, but there will always be those people who have a holier-than-thou attitude about it. Half of them will end up divorced, and when that happens, you will graciously resist the urge to fire off a snooty one-liner because you’re classy like that.

In a breakup, you don’t need to change your name. This is also true in some divorces, but quite often, one person changes his or (usually) her name. Five years after your divorce, you’ll still be receiving junk mail addressed to your former self. Thanks for the reminder, dear credit card company!

In a breakup, you don’t need to decide what to do with your wedding ring. It’s much, much easier to purge an ex-boyfriend or -girlfriend’s CDs, clothes, or piece-of-shit couch than it is to part with something that a) cost an arm and a leg, b) once meant something pretty damn significant, and/or c) is shiny and beautiful.

In a breakup, you don’t get permanently labeled. There aren’t any checkboxes on forms or documents that say “dumped,” but once you’ve been divorced, you’re part of a club, like it or not. Even if you remarry, you will always carry that “D” with you on some level.

In a breakup, you get to move on without the need to explain yourself to potential mates (unless you feel the need to recount the travails of your epic love life on every first date, but I don’t recommend that). Once you’re divorced, you inevitably need to discuss your marital history with your new love, and he or she may or may not have a problem with it.

*****

I Want to Know

What did I miss?
What are some other reasons a breakup isn’t the same as a divorce?
Do your non-divorced friends ever try to compare a breakup they went through to your divorce?

Would you like to tell your separation or divorce story? Divorced Before 30 takes submissions! Visit me at my other blog, emmasota or find me on twitter @emmasota. And, if you haven’t already, please connect with Divorced Before 30 on Facebook!

How Divorce Affects Future Relationships

Emma — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 02:21:21 +0000

A while back, I asked readers to weigh in on the following question: In what ways has your divorce affected your current behavior when it comes to dating and relationships? The responses that you submitted varied greatly, from feeling as though divorce has taught you what to avoid, to having lingering issues with trust. Your answers no doubt depend on how long it’s been since you and your ex parted ways and other circumstances about your split.

The #1 way that divorce has affected my current relationship is that I see marriage as less of a “destination” and more as an ongoing (hopefully lifelong) process. It’s not about the wedding; it’s about the day-to-day life that you build with someone who is your friend, partner, and lover. You’re not stuck together—marriages can be undone, after all—but if you’re lucky and you work hard at it, the two of you can create something worth sticking around for.

Here’s what the rest of you had to say about how divorce has affected your relationship outlook:

“I’m more comfortable with me. I’m more willing to speak my mind.”

“I am desperate to avoid the same pitfalls, so I overthink everything I say to my boyfriend. I am overcautious not to be ‘unfair’ to him, and I obsess over making this one ‘right.’ He’s patient, but he does have to tell me, ‘Hey, I’m not him, and this is different.’”

“I was bitter for awhile, many months. I went to a wedding a month after my separation and I hated being there. I thought the whole ceremony was a fraud, and I was in an unhealthy mental state at that point. When it comes to dating, I’ve been very cautious. I’ve done my best to make sure I don’t have a ‘rebound,’ but I’ve met someone amazing. I was friends with him before my marriage fell apart, and after my separation, we became better friends. Suddenly, I realized he was my favorite person in the whole world. We are extremely compatible and mature. If anything, divorce taught me how to think rationally about relationships. I’m taking everything very slowly.”

“I won’t repeat the same mistakes twice. I have learned so much from my divorce and past marriage and I apply them all the time to my relationship with [my boyfriend]. It’s making us much more successful!”

“I don’t commit and cling right away. I am getting out there and meeting different people. I feel like you won’t know who Mr. Right for You is if you just bait and hook the first man who gives you attention. I try to work an equal balance between my career, son, friends and men! It is definitely a challenge. I admit, though, that I have been seeing someone for about five months now and he and I both feel ready to be a bit more serious. Fortunately, he also is divorced and understands why I want and have to be careful.”

“I appreciate all of the big and small things my 2nd husband does for me. He does such an amazing job of respecting me, and it’s wonderful. I ain’t ’bout to forget it!”

“I was told unexpectedly one day by my husband that he no longer wanted to be married. The next month of my life, he wouldn’t allow me to touch him, wouldn’t sleep next to me, “forgot” to answer his phone, and would hardly come home at night. Trust has become the number one issue for me. I was married to a man who was the kindest, most loving, considerate, and trustworthy man. My family and friends adored him. He had high morals, good values, and loving traits. I, nor anyone else, would ever have suspected him of cheating. However, he did. And it hurt very, very bad because it was something so unexpected. I never saw it coming. So, I have a very hard time trusting people in my life. I feel I always will because you never know when someone will just ‘switch.’”

“I have found that I crave physical connection, not sex necessarily, but just being close to another man. The last week, I realized that I am rebounding, hard! That thought made me realize that I wasn’t wanting another man; I was wanting intimacy. So now I am trying to cultivate intimacy (not of the sexual nature) in my important relationships (mom, dad, brothers, best friend). I don’t know when/if I’ll date again, but I’m determined to be happy regardless!

*****

I Want to Know

Do you have any advice for readers who may be feeling insecure in a new relationship?
How about advice for readers who feel like they’ll never be able to trust another romantic partner again?

On Rebounds

Emma — Thu, 27 Oct 2011 12:13:53 +0000

I enjoyed a recent Huffington Post Divorce post called “Dating After Divorce: Rebounds and Supernovas” by comedian and writer Juliet Jeske. We all know what a “rebound” relationship is, but what about a “supernova?” Jeske writes, “I call the first major relationship after leaving my husband the supernova—a collection of stars exploding all at once vaporizing everything in their path, burning bright, hot and fast. It was a force of nature—so much bigger than a rebound.” Beautiful and yet so dangerous, right?

Jeske hit rock bottom after her supernova, struggling with depression and anxiety. She provides some pretty sound advice to other recently-divorced people, pointing out that another person—a new lover—can’t rescue you from the emotional fall-out of divorce. Truly, it takes time to recover, and many people are probably better off waiting to date. I totally agree. And yet, I dove into what could have been a “rebound” relationship just six weeks after my divorce. I’d been on a couple of dates in the interim, but my first post-divorce relationship got serious almost immediately. Mistake? For me, no. In fact, this week marks five years with Mr. More-than-a-Rebound.

Why did it work? Maybe it was just dumb luck, but I think there were several factors that helped:

I was the one who initiated my divorce, and emotionally, I’d been “done” for months.
I was already friends with my new love interest before my divorce (and before my marriage, in fact).
I wasn’t afraid to talk to my new love about my marriage.
I didn’t talk about my marriage to my new love all that often.
My new love was extremely understanding and didn’t feel threatened by my previous marriage.
I didn’t pretend to be entirely over my divorce.
I was proactive about taking care of myself and pursuing important personal goals like getting out of debt.
I set boundaries about how often I stayed at my new love’s place.
I made an effort to spend time with my girlfriends and my family.
I went to therapy to work through my divorce and wasn’t afraid to admit that I needed it.

Sometimes, you fall in love with the right person at what seems to be precisely the wrong time. Maybe it will explode dramatically, supernova-style, but it could also turn out to be the real deal. I am grateful for the amazing five years that I’ve had with my Mr. More-than-a-Rebound, and I look forward to many, many more.

*****

I’d love to hear from you on this!

Have you had what Jeske calls a “supernova” relationship after your divorce (or a bad break up)?
Or, like me, did you dive into a new relationship that has since lasted?
How long did it take you before you felt emotionally ready for a new relationship after your marriage or serious relationship fell apart?

If you would like to share your own divorced-before-30 story, please check out the submissions page! Men are welcome, too! If you haven’t already, please connect with Divorced Before 30 on Facebook!

Slinking Back into the Pool

Emma — Fri, 12 Feb 2010 02:30:31 +0000

As far as I was concerned, one of the highlights of getting married was kissing the dating scene goodbye. I met my ex-husband when I was 27, so I’d had my fair share of sizing up strangers as potential dinner companions or life partners, which is about as much fun as shopping for swimsuits. You know—facing your nearly-naked self in a dressing room mirror lit by hideous fluorescent lighting. Paradoxically, it’s enough to make anyone entirely self-critical and incredibly picky at the same time.

If you’re lucky enough to experience the exhilarating thrill of finding a pretty damn good fit, the humiliating part pays off. I won’t say “perfect,” because I’m no longer convinced that’s a helpful way of looking at the world. Or bikinis. Or love, for that matter. Such a mindset previously led me on a several-years-long quest for such an inconsequential “treasure” as the perfect brown shoes. Who has the energy for that? So. I was a very recently divorced 29-year-old, living in my parents’ basement, and much to my own surprise, I actually wanted to date again.

I felt like I had seen what was behind the curtain, and the rules of the game seemed clear. I was disgusted with the old-fashioned drill of meeting guys in a lame twist of fate, like on a plane (I had), at church (check), at work (yep), or in a bar (of course I did). This time, I wanted to go about it more intentionally. You know, actually think about what qualities I was looking for ahead of time. A radical concept, I know. So, just a month after my divorce, I did the practical thing—I jumped on the match.com bandwagon and started spying on potential dates in my pajamas.

Was it too early to be dating? Maybe. But, my heart had slowly detached from my marriage months before I escaped, and I felt more at home in my own brain now than I had in years. I wasn’t looking for anything serious, but I was intrigued by the process of screening potential dates online and making better decisions about who I chose to spend my time with. I had lots of good reasons to slink my way back into the dating pool, but mostly, putting myself back out there felt assertive, and when life gets this woman down, “proactive” may as well be my middle name.

Used Goods

Emma — Mon, 08 Feb 2010 03:33:48 +0000

During grad school, a slightly older man (maybe all of 30) showed some not-so-subtle interest in me. He was a good-looking guy and was a friend-of-a-friend, which is always a nice perk in an at-least-I-know-he-doesn’t-have-a-criminal-record kind of way. BUT. As soon as I heard the D-word, I was out. Divorced was a deal-breaker.

In my 24-year-old opinion, there was something very unromantic about dating a man who had already donned a tuxedo and said “I do” to the supposed love of his life. He had to be deeply flawed, right? Either he was morally weak in any number of ways, or he was a poor judge of character who had latched on to a cheater or a complete nut job. And I’m not sure which scenario seemed more damning.

What scared me the most was his high potential for baggage. Lord knows I had enough of my own, and I didn’t need to fall for a guy who sent his ex-wife a monthly check or had pictures of her—formerly their—beagle in his apartment. Nor did I want to stumble upon a wedding video while looking for his copy of Good Will Hunting.

Five years later, I felt the weight of the world’s judgment and acknowledged my karmic due. I certainly shouldered some baggage from getting divorced, but I was still me. Except now, when morning light freed me from my nightmares, I practically danced a jig on the way to the coffeemaker. I had a second shot at life, and hell if I wasn’t afraid to use it.

Baggage? Absolutely. But I had collected some lovely pieces along the way, too. Like perspective on what really matters to me. Greater appreciation for my friends and family. The knowledge that unconditional love often comes with a tail. The guts to listen to my heart. And two sparkly bands from Tiffany & Co., which once hocked, might just cover the cost of my divorce attorney and my ex’s COBRA health benefits.

I envisioned a violent eBay war in which some very pragmatic dude wins those little robin’s-egg-blue boxes and plots an equally sensible proposal. You see, the dude isn’t superstitious; he scoffs at the notion that a ring unwed is tainted. To him, it’s simply a phenomenal deal on precisely the ring that his sweetheart has circled in magazines she’s tossed conspicuously about their apartment.

As I photographed my rings to list them on eBay, I sent up a cosmic “sorry” to the guy who didn’t make it past my deal-breaker list. He deserved more than to be labeled as used goods, and I hoped that he’d found himself a partner who made him happy—preferably someone smarter and better-looking than his ex-wife who, as it turns out, was a royal cheat.