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Check One: Accepting Divorce & Moving On

Check One: Accepting Divorce & Moving On [EXPERT]
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Heartbreak

Just because you're divorced doesn't mean life is over!

I hate the word divorced. The cold, annoying syllables jolt me, like the crunch of ice meeting molars. Try saying it without cringing. I dare you. There's no way around it, over it or through it. It is just a piss-poor, sucky word. Why Is Divorce On The Rise?

This morning I decided it was time to rededicate myself to winning the war my derriere is waging against gravity and dragged it down to the local gym to renew my membership. I was prepared to sweat and groan with the best of them but unfortunately, I was not prepared for the one obstacle that would get this great endorphin-filled, self-love fest off to a rocky start: the membership form. It required that I "check one" and there, in black and white, were the words single, married and divorced. From a nearby boom box, Madonna was being 'touched for the very first time,' but the virgin territory I was suddenly thrust into was not worth singing about, and I was suddenly at a loss as to what to do next.

I had never had reason to check the divorced box before, and it was like I was proclaiming to the cute, overly perky, young receptionist that I'd failed at being a normal, married woman who can't stand by her man. I also found it difficult not to warn her off of marriage entirely; "If you'd seen what I have ..." I wanted to tell her in no uncertain terms, but she probably would have just dismissed me as a jaded divorced woman and asked me for my credit card and ID anyway, so I decided it best to control myself.

I hesitate, pen in hand, in a holding pattern above the page, trying to find a way out of this endorphin depleting moment and weigh my options. I could check single, but then I might be mistaken for a spinster. If I check married I'd be a big fat liar. But if I check divorced, reality will finally sink in, which I'm not entirely sure I am prepared for. I am new to this divorce thing, and the feelings that come and go are as unpredictable as a roll of the dice or the weather report. And now I am required to fill in a box that is, for all intents and purposes, a public document, and that gives me a cold chill down my spine. The 10 Emotional Stages Of Divorce

But then it hits me. I never have to speak the brittle, castrating word divorced to describe myself if I choose not to do so. I don't have to confine myself to a one-word description, to sum up my life. And it is then and there I decide to proclaim myself a divorcee.

Suddenly, I feel continental and ready for a cold martini with a twist, followed by a ride in a little white convertible, which is hugging the curves of the road all the way up a steep mountain, to my seaside villa. I am chic and sophisticated, not the tag line of the Tammy Wynette song that now plays on the boom box, which is little more than a spelling bee set to music. And somehow, this distinction makes everything OK. I am ready to check the appropriate box and face the world, saggy derriere and all. How To Plan The Perfect Party For Your Divorce

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