Divorced Twice? What's Wrong With You?

Hi, my name is Lori. I am 47-years old and I am getting divorced for the second time. I've been a writer since the age of 7, and I have documented my journey from first divorce, to a thirty-year-old singleton. Then seven years of serial coffee dating (I'll get into that more later). And then a second marriage.

One that was supposed to last forever. But didn't.

I am sitting in a house I bought and renovated, after moving from Toronto, Canada to Texas. In 2014, after waiting two long years and inching through the Visa process with immigration, I found myself in North Texas eager to start a new life.

Now the optimism I remember when I first arrived hurts. More than a little. This was it! My second and last husband. He came equipped with identical twin boys who were eight years old at the time. And a large seemingly happy family that constantly did things together. I craved that.

And the first three years were pretty good. A few bumps here and there, but I had those blinders on. You know, the kind that allows you to see things that bother you, but shade them in a different color. Making excuses for those things because, after all, we were newlyweds. And for him, it was his first marriage.

When things started to go bad, the blinders stayed on. But the rose-colored lenses started to crack under the heat of circumstances. And then, the film on those lenses started to peel back. And bright unfiltered truths and the light of day started pouring in.

That bright light was so harsh, it brought tears to my eyes. Constantly. Mostly, in the shower where he couldn’t hear me cry.

Getting Good at Divorce as a Life Skill

Shameful isn't it? The idea that this time around, I have experience from the first divorce to draw on. I don't mean to criticize someone who has had two, three or four divorces. Okay, wait. If I am being honest, I have always criticized in my head, women who had more than one divorce.

A single divorce is kind of understandable. Mistakes happen. People change. Life happens and sometimes bad luck shreds a relationship until there is nothing left but pieces of what once was. We are supposed to be married once, have kids, buy a house (or reverse that order) and grow old together with 2.2 pets and a decent-looking SUV. Maybe a truck, and an RV too.

But how messed up do you have to be to not get it right the SECOND time? Seriously! Didn't you learn anything from the first mistake? Or are you the kind of person that doesn't make the same mistake twice. Choosing instead to make BRAND NEW mistakes every time. Points for originality on life decisions that look good, until you are in them.

Running from a Tsunami of Bad Decisions

I am capable of making bad decisions.

When I make bad decisions I work hard to clean up my own mess. Try to land on my feet independently, and rock the experience that a mistake gives you. Not everyone is like that. Some blame others for the sinking ship that is their life. Even while you watch them drilling holes in the hull.

My second divorce is harder than my first was. My first ex-husband (God that sounds so bad, right?) worked at IBM. A brilliant coder with a great income and a wonderful career. I was barely a blip on his radar financially. And he was able to keep the house and his comfortable lifestyle. I took $6000 in cash and assumed $20k in debt. Making $39k per year and living in pricy downtown Toronto.

This divorce is from a man who was (until last week) unemployed. Facing criminal charges. And had his truck stolen from the Casino. When he told me he was staying in Dallas with family. Therein is the tip of the iceberg of reasons why I am getting divorced a second time. And still blaming myself for it, for unknown reasons.

I am running for my life, but walking on the outside. Inside the hurts are bouncing around my soul. The infidelity. The addictions. The irresponsibility. The lack of integrity, ambition, motivation... adulting. More than willing to catfish a hardworking woman with promises unkept, into financing a financially messed-up person.

The willingness to let me sherpa almost everything financially, without remorse. Being okay with me working 100+ hours per week while he enjoyed breakfast and lunch several times a week with his buddies. Posting bottles of cider from the boat I bought and paid to repair. At 2:00 p.m. on a Tuesday. While I worked.

Redefining the Modern Debutante

There will still be fancy dresses and pretty shoes. Perhaps no corsage, and no one picking me up in a fancy truck or SUV at my door. No pictures of my handsome date taken by my mother. No threatening look from my father, as he cleans his shotgun in full view of my date.

No. Those are the things younger women experience. And I am not young anymore. I am 47 on the cusp of 48 and churning through my second divorce. Because I am cool like that.

I don't feel cool for the record.

I would like to define myself as a 'Midlife Debutante'. My 'coming out' party will be in June, in Austin Texas. A new townhouse. A new stackable washer and dryer. Four chihuahuas. A lifestyle community where (I hope) I will meet some like-minded friends.

A pool I hope is empty every morning at 8:00 a.m. when I like to swim laps. My body needs me to swim laps. My tummy mostly, and the wobble I hate at the top of my arms. I want to love my body again. And maybe by the time that happens, someone new will see something worthy of loving too. Someday.

Right now, I just want chocolate. And vodka.

Photo Credit: kwanchaidp | Deposit Photos