by Don Hall

Twenty-six years ago the concept of being divorced was enough to cause me to consider suicide. Not in a serious I want to die so here is the thought out plan for my demise sort of way but in a despairing what have I become veil on my self image. My mother clocked a number of divorces and I swore I'd never do that.

Yet, in 1998, I divorced from my first wife. It was a shock and the realization that my status had substantially shifted. My response was to make it a precursor to my avatar—I was no longer just Don Hall, I was Don Hall, Divorced Guy. Like the memes about women showing strength in walking away from an unhappy life and empowering themselves, I felt that it was both a mask of a search for something better and something that sort stank like failure. "Yes," it seemed to say, "I was unhappy so I gave up. I'm a quitter and will now attempt to brand quitting as a sign of maturity and bravery. I choose myself over my commitment and will project that selfishness as a billboard for virtue."

That approach works for women. There is a perception that if there is a divorce, it is the woman who is most injured, has been on the abused end of the stick, that breaking away from a bad husband is an act of courage. Men are often seen as the apparent reason for the split, a loser, a toxic presence, a neglectful narcissist who couldn't keep his wife happy. A divorced woman is hot (unless she just lets herself go and gives up which is why we have Ozempic®) but a divorced man is a cautionary tale of failure and emasculation.

Perhaps this stigma is a slice of motivation I have to wear my divorced status as a label I embrace—not out of pride but of transparency. I joke about it. If I were on social media (gave it up like a meth addict recognizing the yellowing teeth) my status would perpetually be THRICE DIVORCED and, given that three is a magic number (GenX throwback), it is my version of a girlBoss t-shirt I don to both introduce myself to strangers and a costume for parties.

There is a strange and pernicious tendency when teaching pre-school kids. No matter what time it is, whether the toddlers have recently had a snack or not, if one kid decides he or she needs to piss, they all suddenly have bladders that absolutely must be evacuated.

The same phenomenon occurs with adults when one of the prevailing married couples announce they are divorcing. Suddenly husbands look over at their wives in the twilight of morning and ask “Honey? Are we OK?” Wives start noticing how slovenly and stupid their husbands are. She just chews so fucking loud. He can’t seem to fold a sheet. She spends so much money on stupid shit. He plays video games?!

Like dominos, a rash of serious divorce talk begins in earnest and with each divorce there comes at least five more in a matter of a few months. No one would ever claim to have initiated divorce proceedings because someone in their circle of influence did but women buy shoes they see their friends wear and guys crave the same car as their buddies, so there it is. Like begets like.

Considered by many a jack of all trades and master of none (although my amendment would be jack of many trades, master of a couple) one aspect in life that I can say experience has honed to a finely sharpened butter knife is that of divorcing and being divorced. I grew up and my mom divorced several times (thus, a child of divorce) and I'm wearing that t-shirt in the course of my tattered and ruined romantic life. That's plenty of freaking divorce, thank you very much, and as such, I feel I have the equivalent of a PhD. in the subject.

Within the concept that 10,000 hours of practice makes one a master of anything, I've put in the hours.

Thinking about a divorce? In the midst of one? It's all signed and done and now you're branded with a big red "D" for life? I got you, dawg. Read on.

I. YOU'RE GETTING A DIVORCE

The first thing to process is the reason for the divorce. Every divorce is unique but they all fall into the trap of dishonesty. Were you dishonest about your commitment to 'do the hard work' or who you were when you got hitched? Was your partner the one who chased you or were you the chaser? Did you each evolve without being honest about shifting priorities and values? Did you keep secrets? Was the disconnect intentional or simply a calcification of affection that turned into cracked and flaking disdain?

Knowing the answers to these questions changes nothing. You're splitting up and an attempt to flip the script once the word 'divorce' has been uttered in seriousness, you're done. It's ok. It sucks but you'll survive this.

There are a few rules to follow in the first week or so of the divorce:

The first rule of Fight Club... That's right. Don't broadcast your divorce until you've had some time to process the information yourselves. In those first few days, you are spinning. You feel like a failure or betrayed. You're on a see-saw between sad and angry. You're delving into those small moments to find moments when either you were wrong or were wronged. You're a fucking mess and now is not the time to announce the divorce to friends and family.

Be nice. If your soon-to-be ex tries to bait you into an argument? Be nice. If you find yourself spiraling and wanting nothing more than to shred him in a cyclone of spite and vitriol? Be nice. Be nice until Dalton tells you it's time to not be nice.

There's nothing romantic about self destruction. Go ahead and get splashed. Drink if you gotta. Indulge in your vices—all the things that make you feel better in your days of chaos. Do it alone. Control your surroundings. Nothing—NOTHING—is more dull and unromantic than the out-of-control aging farty animal getting hammered in public. Those melodramatic characters in history almost always died from the self destruction or put a gun in their mouths. You wanna be Brendan Frasier in Aronofsky's The Whale and die of an inability to cope and also meatball sandwiches? Of course not.

Now is the time to be Spock rather than Kirk. Impulsive, emotional decisions are not welcome in your life today. Thoughtful, logical decisions are the way to go.

Divorce is hard but not as difficult as chemotherapy or arguing with a teenager. It is a death of sorts and, like the stages of grief, you'll deny that it's happening, you'll become enraged at the horrible mess your life has just become, you'll question every choice you've ever made that lead you here, and you'll finally accept it. Trust me, it'll get a lot harder before you finally come to that final place.

...to be continued...