I could begin every blog with the words, “The hardest part about being a divorced single mom is…,” and I would have a different “hardest part” every time, depending on what kind of day I’m having. So I guess that really is the hardest part about it - that there isn’t just one “hardest part.” And what was hardest for me yesterday might be a piece of cake tomorrow, and something even harder might be looming on the horizon. So I guess essentially the hardest part of being a divorced single mom (or of life in general) is really the unknown…not knowing what’s coming or how you’re going to feel about it or get it behind you. You remain in a perpetual state of planning; planning that never really seems to make it past the basic stages of “This is what I need to do in order to not sit in my bed, eating ice cream and feeling sorry for myself for the rest of my life.” Planning that begins (and sometimes ends) with that one moment every morning when you say to yourself, “Okay, I need to get out of bed today and feed my children. Step 1.”
So clearly my Plan A didn’t work out. As a matter of fact, my Plan A crashed and burned much like the Hindenburg, leaving me staring upward, mouth agape, wondering how in the hell I’m supposed to react, and whether or not I should care if people are watching me for the “right” reaction. Rest in pieces, Plan A.
Now what?
Plan B. Hmmm…now what was Plan B again? Ruh roh…
Divorce brings you face-to-face with a Plan B that you never really PLANNED to employ. Nobody really PLANS a life after a theoretical divorce. Oh, sure, we all declare that we can and would survive any hiccup in the road, and when we’re confronted with other people’s realities and other possibilities, we’re very staunch in proclaiming exactly how we would feel, react and overcome the situation. “If my man ever hit me, I would…” “If my husband died unexpectedly, I would…” “If I ever caught him cheating, I would…” Oh, reallllyyyy? Would you? You may find someday that you surprise yourself. I have.
At any rate, when you wrap so many of your life goals and dreams into finding and keeping the “love of your life," planning a life without him or her is a buzzkill to say the least. With Plan A checklist in hand, most women spend a number of months trying to decide on a shade of purple for their bridesmaids gowns or on whether or not they will wear their hair up or down on their wedding day, but nobody really puts much thought into what could happen or what they would do if none of it works out. What if every one of your biggest fears and nightmares actually becomes your reality? What would you do? How would you go on? Ick. I dunno. But I know that I want an open bar at the reception! Tulips or roses, beef tips or chicken, up-do or down-do…No matter how many distractions you seek, Plan B is going to be there loitering in the outskirts of your mind, neglected in the hopes that it will never be needed.
I am no different from the blushing brides at whom I poke fun. I never really made a Plan B either. In fact, I never actually even considered that my marriage would end. Considering the grim statistics waving in my face at every turn, this is actually pathetically funny to me now. No more Nicholas Sparks novels for me, kids. Unwavering optimism and faith in human honor completely blinded the part of my brain that has always known that people fuck up. A lot. And like it or not, the average person secretly doesn’t mind running over whoever is in the way on their path to personal happiness. After 7 1/2 years of marriage, 1 stepchild, 2 young children, 2 dogs, 2 apartments, 3 houses, 14,987 futile arguments, 5 metric shit-tons of unpaid bills and one of the most painful, but quick divorces in history, my Plan B is simply this: Survive. Set those gauges on Auto-Pilot, breathe deeply, count my blessings, and figure it out as I go.
At the moment, I have a job and my bills are mostly paid. My sons are loved, happy, healthy, fed, and have a roof over their beautiful heads. I am dating a really great guy who is sweet to my kids, loves me in spite of my circumstances, and gives me plenty of space to be clueless, chaotic and crazy. I have the world’s greatest family and amazing friends who I wish I could say I truly deserved. I don’t have much, but I have something. Something to get out of bed for. A reason to survive.
I don’t know if I will ever expand upon Plan B. Maybe because I know now that plans are for fools who don’t know what it’s like to watch the bottom drop out. Or maybe it’s because if my only objective is to survive, then I have a significantly higher success rate. Maybe it’s because I’m a little bit scared of being hurt again. Or maybe it’s just that, after all of these years and after watching almost everything I wanted get taken away from me piece by piece, I don’t really know what I want or who I am anymore. I had nearly 25 years to formulate my Plan A, and 7 1/2 years to watch it fall apart. I am less than a year into Plan B. Tick. Tock.
Blind planning…the hardest part.
No comments:
Post a Comment