I Hear You: Divorce Is Not Quiet
I Hear You…
Every single scream hidden inside you.
Each word you want to shout loud but swallow for fear of judgement.
I hear you clearly because I’ve been there.
I’ve waded through the deep waters of divorce and reached the dry land on the other side gasping for sustenance. Emerging into a place that needs cultivating. Where planting the first seeds of a new life only begins once the hurt, pain and uncertainty begins to settle.
I hear you and I will not make you feel bad for those moments which became too much to handle. When you felt so weighed down you wanted to claw the world to pieces with your fingernails just to feel some relief from the seemingly endless, soul destroying tasks of divorce court admin, change of surname, childcare schedules and financial agreements.
Remember, the rebuilding of life and hope comes after this difficult process but let’s not forget what it costs to get there.
So…grab a chair and come sit at this table.
Let’s have lunch together whilst we mull this over for a few minutes. Forget the salad. Forget the diet today. Wine, rich desserts and tears of frustration are welcome here. No judgement.
For me, financial and childcare mediation left me shattered into pieces, which resulted in further sick leave from work. The entire process was draining, like trying to understand a complicated equation I just could not grasp. Granted, I’m not known for my mathematical prowess but I know how to communicate. At least I thought I did but that did not seem to matter in a beige office, sitting opposite a mediator and an ex-partner, carving up the assets of a seventeen year relationship. Dividing up how much time I would get to spend with my children.
My mind ran a marathon every session, emotion stinging my eyes, my throat drying up so my words never quite made it out the way I needed them to.
It was like my voice was stolen.
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I coasted through the entire divorce process as if in a nightmare I couldn’t wake from. If I’m honest, I don’t really remember it clearly, the edges are blurred and I’m sure I came across as obstructive, difficult to understand and overly emotional but betrayal and a lifetime of feeling like an outsider will do that to a person.
Let me say what I needed to hear back then:
You are not too emotional. You are not being difficult by speaking up about how you feel or naming what you believe feels unjust for you. You are not weak for breaking down during one of the hardest and most stressful times in your life.
You are navigating a ravaging storm at sea in a tiny lifeboat with no life jacket.
I was afraid of speaking out back then. Of being a burden to my friends with my emotional outbursts after every session so I withdrew and avoided others, or wore the usual mask of ‘I’m okay!’ whilst smiling tightly through the pain I was feeling underneath my ribs as I slowly broke apart.
Even when I spoke, I wasn’t sure I was being heard. Not really.
There was no one holding my hand in that mediation room. No one witnessing my discomfort and pain. No one to go home to and listen to me share my feelings of frustration. No one to slip an arm around my shoulder and tell me everything would be alright.
Maybe that was your experience too. Not being heard when it mattered the most.
But, I want you to know this:
Through every stifled down scream.
Through every outburst of frustration.
Through every moment you think you’re alone in it.
You’re not.
I hear you. Always.
