A Letter to the Ex-Wife

After meeting with a girlfriend and sharing common stories over a bottle of wine, it became apparent a blog must be written about being the new Mrs. X.  A few weeks ago, I wrote a letter to the new Mrs. X with a  few little hints for survival with my children and their mama bear (me)…but there was another letter I really needed to write but deep down, I am one big fried chicken….I don’t want to be misconstrued and I certainly don’t want to cause unnecessary drama…..

But……as I put on my Wayfarers…….step into a pair of The Man’s boxers……pull up my tube sox and slide down the hallway to the tunes of Bob Seger……...I think to myself………sometimes…you just have to say what the flick…………flock……….fleck whatever it is that you have to say at such times……

Dear Ex-Wife:

We share a few special people in common.  Being an ex-wife myself, I completely understand your position.  I understand your frustrations…..I understand the need to emotionally distance yourself from a man who was in your life for a very, very long time…and I understand the emptiness that it brings.  However, there are a few things that you need to understand about me.

I am a good person.  I like puppies and ducks….and baby chickies (at least until they grow bigger into scary chickens).  One of the best things about me is my heart.  I do think about your heart and I try as much as I can to have empathy and understand where you are coming from.  Because my heart is big, there is more real estate to make me vulnerable…..your words can hurt me…they can piss me off…..they can make me apathetic…..they can send me on a shopping therapy spree lasting a whole weekend…..but there can still be hurt.  Although I am a big girl and can hold my own, arrows can hit their mark.  I expect you to trash talk to your friends, to your family, and to your man (after all, I have friends, family and a man, too)…..but please be sensitive……(I say this to myself as well).  I don’t expect you to care about my heart, but words are long lasting things that sometimes have unexpected consequences.  Sometimes we mean to hurt one person with them but they change direction and hurt someone completely unintended—like shrapnel. 

You should know that I will never undermine you to your children.  Period.  Enough said….but it needs to be said.  I would expect the same from my X’s new Mrs. 

Know that I could be a great ally.   I can be an extra hand. 

We have graduations, birthdays, and grandchildren to think about.  How great would it be if we could all celebrate together!! 

You should also know that I understand your hurt.  I understand the deconstruction of a marriage.  I know betrayal, loneliness, and the scary feeling of being single at 40----holy cow…..don’t I ever know those things.  However, I also know that my husband is a good father and a good man….part of the above celebrating together has got to include a peace treaty…..seriously. 

Know that I can enrich your children’s lives – not in a competitive sense….not in a parental sense……but in the sense that I can bring things into their lives that are uniquely mine…..not in competition with you, but rather to complement you….. I have no motherhood to offer them – that is your job.  I get the easy stuff….I know that….I didn’t change their diaper or hear their first words….but I am here to offer a word of encouragement, a sassy opinion, and even a project or two to work on when necessary.  I bring two kids of my own to the mix….making it all a birth order fruit basket upset for sure….but their interactions enrich their lives…..and gives them more people to care about. 

Lastly, I want to apologize for my own awkwardness.  I come near you and I don’t know what to say…..I get tongue tied and go all shy-girl.  You’ve been a part of the family much longer than I have and it can be a little intimidating.  Please don’t misconstrue my social awkwardness for anything other than it is……

So….let’s call a peace treaty…..let’s love the kids in our lives…..and try to make things a bit less awkward…..I am game if you are. 

B

A Letter to the Future Mrs. X

A girlfriend and I had a long lunch with cocktails the other day.  The topic du jour was being a Mrs. X –you know….the woman who marries your X who without fail will be criticized about everything from her parenting skills to her nail polish color to the number on the bathroom scale.  We all hope the new Mrs. X will be dumb as a box of rocks, have a behind the size of Texas and, of course, make our X miserable so he will finally learn what  a SOB he is/was. 

In reality, we should pine away for the perfect woman – someone who will be pleasant to talk to at family functions…..someone with a sense of humor so when Junior shows up at their house with his latest ant farm project and proceeds to drop said project on the floor shattering an ant world all over her kitchen……she won’t commit homicide….. We should want someone good to our children and who treats them with dignity and respect……..

It’s a stinky job…..being the Mrs. X.  You inherit all of the family disfunction….not just your own, but your Man’s, too.  You not only inherit his family, his kids, the dog, the goldfish and the Bob Marley album collection---you also inherit his X…..let me repeat that…..yes, you inherit his X—who most probably will hate you till the day she dies. 

My X is getting married this summer.  The new wifey isn’t exactly who I would pick to be the step-mom in my kids' lives…..but I wasn’t actually consulted…..and quite honestly, if I chose…..I would probably pick someone with the above qualities…..you know….dumb as a box of rocks and someone at LEAST a jeans size larger than me…..maybe even two…. BUT, in the spirit of charity, the Easter Bunny, spring lambs and April Fools day, I am giving the future Mrs. X a little help….just a little. 

Dear Future Mrs. X:

I know you are madly in love with my X---I know right now everything is all tulips and sunshine and I genuinely hope that you two will be eternally happy….etc. etc. etc.  Being a step-mom and dealing with me will not be a walk in the park……I apologize in advance.  If the X and I could deal with our dysfunction properly…..well….he wouldn’t be my X……  Here are a few tips to make your life a bit easier as the new Mrs. X.

Treat my children kindly and with respect.  This is non-negotiable.  Feel free to enforce your house rules, but know that there is a line.

At family functions, talk to my kids…..engage with them.  Find out what they like and who they are…..they are pretty good kids…..I know they remind you of my existence and of a life you weren’t a part of…..but embrace it because they aren’t going anywhere.

Don’t try to drive a wedge between my X and our kids.  Don’t badmouth their mother……..I have heard that she can go from zero to psycho in about 15 seconds……so keep your thoughts about my life to yourself and to your hubbie….don’t speak of them to my children.

When you see me, be polite.  It’s a scary thing being around the former Mrs. X….. I have been there….but remember, there are many weddings, graduations, birthday parties, and births to attend……  Better yet, bring a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses---we will probably both need a drink. 

Encourage my X to spend time with his children…..make some new traditions (just don’t make them conflict with mine---remember that zero to psycho comment).   Include them in your plans. 

And lastly, be patient….it takes more time that you ever thought for kids to warm up to the newbie.  It takes more time than it should.   But if you invest in their lives, you will eventually get a return. 

All the best,

Me.

Ho Ho Ho and a Bottle of Rum!

Blending is not my favorite thing--unless of course it involves ice and lots and lots of tequilla....  The art of blending a family is complex and takes the finesse of a virtuoso combined with the hardiness of a pirate.  Usually I simply get that deer in the headlights look and freeze until just the right moment and then run.....smack dab into a Mack Truck!

Mateys.....We need Rum!!

Blending is much harder than I anticipated.  Teenagers love me.....my own kids typically love me.....well....typically..... I am fun....really.....I promise!!!  I cook!!  I listen....usually.  Blending is like living in a foreign country---everything I need, I have to go through my translator.....(Hubs) and everything they need, they go through the translator (dad).  I feel as if I must sit back and watch and wait for the pieces to connect----excruciatingly painful for a woman of action----and divest myself emotionally from the outcome.  I have to be the grown up....I can't get my feelings hurt....I have to keep waiting and waiting for that moment where I get some sort of "tada!" moment.  Did someone say Rum?!?!?!?

I am not sure what exactly I envisioned----maybe the Waltons.....or Little House on the Prairie when they adopted Albert.....or....  I just want to hit that little button that says Blend------I want to make it happen instantaneously!!!  I want them to be comfortable....I want me to be comfortable......I want The Man to be comfortable.....I want Junior and Chickadee to be comfortable......mostly I just want to have a family that loves each other and engages with each other....creating a new living breathing organism.....a beautiful blended family. 

The problem is that I get my feelings hurt......they get their feelings hurt.....The Man gets his feelings hurt.....and we all compartmentalize and talk to our translators.  Sometimes it feels as if I am on a reality tv show---negotiating back and forth....making alliances....and plans.....and super secret alliances....and super secret plans.... Rum!  We need more Rum!!!

At times, I feel caught in the middle in the fray between exes.....at times I feel left out...in my own home.....because this is a family that is not mine....they have a history I don't share.....I feel like an intruder....an interloper.....watching something beautiful from the outside.  It's a club I can't join......I'm not really even a step-mom.....I am simply Becky.  Some days I am okay with that.....and some days it just really sucks. 

It's time to re-evaluate......to step up to the plate......to risk something in order to gain something.  In my fears that they won't like me, I have become something that is not quite myself.  In the words of Ray Hunt, "If you do what you always do, you will get what you have always gotten."  It's time to return to me......learn the language......ditch the translator....and take a risk.  

Diary of an Angry Greek Woman

My first encounter with Medea was in the early days of dating The Man. He invited me to a movie, Medea Goes to Jail. He mentioned that this was a continuation of the Medea movie, Diary of an Angry Black Woman. I was *so* excited….I just love documentaries… the grit, the true life stories and this one sounded right up my alley. I pictured Africa…Johannesburg…women marching for equal treatment... When the first preview came on, my excitement came to a screeeeeching halt. *Oh* Tyler Perry is not an artsy indy filmmaker. Um…yeah… The Man kept glancing at me nervously at every punch line wondering, “why isn’t she laughing??” I kept subtly glancing at him, “did he just laugh at that?” Time moved in slow motion - the complete opposite of warp speed - I tried to smile and look cute…feign interest…wishing this movie theater served something a little more potent than milk duds…..

That was my first encounter with Medea. Imagine my surprise this semester when our assignment was to read Medea by Euripides. Tyler Perry just went up a notch in my mind. Medea? There is another Medea? I was instantly intrigued.

It’s an age-old story, really. Girl leaves her homeland…her family…her friends…to marry her hero - the celebrated Jason (as in Jason and the Argonauts). She helps him create his fortune by assisting him in his quest for the golden fleece. She is smart, beautiful, loyal…..he becomes her life….she has his children and is a devoted wife. They are the ultimate Power Couple--the Ken and Barbie of Ancient Greece. With her brains and his ambition, they can go places. That is…..until he traded her in for a new model….young, cute…..and a princess to boot. I can picture their conversation in my mind…..Medea: “But I got you where you are today - it was with my help that you succeeded.” Jason: “I would have succeeded with or without you…you really didn’t do that much to help…it was by MY hard work that I got where I am today.” I see Medea standing there….hearing those words that tore her heart….pleading with her husband to stay…not to abandon their long marriage. My heart starts to pound…my blood is reaching its boiling point…. Jason: “and just think…..it will be much better for the kids…..they will have little brothers and sisters who will be heirs to the throne….think of them for once…think of the opportunities it will give our children.” annnnnnd the Waterford crashes into the living room wall. I wonder - is he related to my X?? Early ancestor, maybe?? Jason: “I am sending you away - but you’ll have a nice house.” CRASH! Jason: “Why can’t you just accept this? You are so difficult!” CRASH- CRASH-CRASH-CRASH!!! Sister, I am there!! I am there in spades!!

Medea is devastated, hurt, angry, and alone. She has lost her husband, her friends, her house, and her lifestyle. She is one angry woman. She plots…plans….and manipulates her circumstances in order to bring him pain. She becomes a woman obsessed with showing the world how much he hurt her---to show the world what a bad father he is--to show the world that she is right and he is wrong. He was unfaithful not her….why is she being punished? She wanted to work on the relationship--he didn’t….the world needs to know that Jason…the revered Jason is a fraud. Medea looks for the way to cause him the most pain - - and she finds it….through his children.

In Euripides’ story, Medea plots to kill her children. I would be hard-pressed to find any woman willing to stoop to that level to cause their X’s that much pain. However, quite often I see women (and men) attempting to kill the relationship between their children and the other parent. It’s so subtle….a comment here and there about how unreliable they are, about their financial support, about their new girlfriend. I see them scheduling play dates, family outings, or girl scout meetings on the other parent’s weekend. She ignores simple, reasonable requests. She brings them late or picks them up early…..and visitation becomes a hassle in the children’s mind. Mom is happy because she feels vindicated because the kids chose to stay with her during Dad’s time.

I understand…..I am there sometimes….pick me not him….pick me not him!! Sometimes I just want to push the X off his pedestal like a kid playing King of the Mountain. Just one push…one quick hard push…. Why should he get to be the good guy?? It’s not fair!! I work hard to be a mom. I make the difficult decisions. I sacrificed for my family…stayed home to be a mom instead of finishing my degree and starting a career. But here’s the thing - kids need their dads and their moms. My new mantra is, “they are an X for a reason.” What he does now isn’t part of my current equation - he is my X-husband…..but he is not my kids’ X-father. He may not keep his house the way I would keep my house (holy cow, it would involve a bulldozer), he may not keep the children accountable like I would (just call him Mr. Cha-ching) and he may not date women I think are appropriate (I would prefer they be actual grown-ups) :)  but he is still their dad and I need to give their relationship the utmost respect.

Your kids may never see how he wronged you….how much he hurt you….how you are the superior parent. To be honest, although that is a gratifying thought, it’s not a healthy thought. Part of me wants my kids to see it, but part of me knows that if and when they do, they are going to experience my pain, feel my abandonment, and mourn the daddy they once knew who has now fallen off his pedestal. It’s not worth it. My vindication is not worth my child’s heart.

Just walk away knowing that he is an X for a reason…..and whistle a happy tune.

Blending

So the topic on my mind today is family blending.  My girlfriends and I have spent many an hour talking about the successfully navigating having a relationship where children (even adult children) are involved.  I have learned through these discussions that everyone has different expectations in blending families.  Does anyone out there have success stories or even tips of what not to do that they learned the hard way?  What expectations do you have in blending?

Thoughts from the Daughter.......Ken and Barbie

In the spirit of having my blog, The Divorced Diva's Guide to Survival, be a true guide to survival - to give a true perspective on divorce and getting through the process, I have asked a few people to guest blog their experiences. My daughter, a lovely, complex, competent, young woman has agreed to share her thoughts............


It is 3am and I have been writing paragraphs and pages only to scratch them all out. I was asked to write a piece about being a child of divorced parents quite some time ago. It has been one of those things that you put off so long that it’s all you can think about. How do I write about my experience of my parent’s divorce? How do I write about something that still has an effect on me?

Every little girl dreams of meeting Prince Charming. We imagine it, we draw it in pictures, and we enact it with our Barbie and Ken dolls. The term “happily ever after” is taught to us all throughout our lifetime. Like when you have your first serious boyfriend, you think it will last forever. Then the next week you break up, your world is shattered. I had this crush on this guy when I was a freshman in high school. He was the first guy I ever truly liked...and surprise! He liked me too! So we get to talking and have lots of mutual interests. But one slight problem...I was not allowed to date. In my mind it wouldn't matter...he liked me I liked him...end of story. We were going to be together forever yada yada. Well that very next week he was into another girl. Sad story. The same goes with watching your parents get divorced. Your whole life, you see these two people together, walking through life with you, and you think it will be that way forever. When you find out that it doesn't exist anymore...this ideal of happy parents...it is just as much of a sad story as that first boy crush your freshman year of high school. It changes your perspective on everything.

I am getting married in 26 days. Two-six. Terrifying. These two opposing views of how relationships work make the prospect of marriage hard. I love my fiancée, he loves me…but what if it’s just a Barbie and Ken? I grew up knowing a happy set of parents, but then things happen and it doesn’t work. It creates doubt in my mind. My perspective has been changing...and I didn't ever believe that I would ever truly be comfortable getting married. However, the closer that wedding date approaches...the more calm I am. Marriage can happen for all of us.

Despite all of the doubt that past events can create for the future, the future is just that…still in the future. It is unknown and undecided. It is ready to be written. Natasha Beddingfield had it right in Unwritten:

Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
the rest still unwritten