Knowing these 3 phases of divorce recovery will help you understand exactly how long it will take.
The pain and confusion of divorce is so intense that at times you wonder if you’ve lost your mind. At other times, you worry that this agony is just how life will be from now on.
In less tortured moments, you know you’re still sane and that life will get better. But then you wonder when because you aren’t sure how much more of the misery you can take.
A quick Google will show you there are plenty of people who will willingly tell you exactly how long it will take you to get over your divorce. What you need to know is that they’re ALL WRONG.
These authorities are all wrong because they base their guidance on averages, observation, personal experience and personal bias. There’s no way any of that will be able to predict exactly how long it will take YOU to get over your divorce.
Divorce recovery is a process. You’ll get through it on a timeline that’s unique to you – not according to someone else’s.
So instead of looking for an exact time when you’ll be over your divorce, it makes more sense to look at other indications that you’re over your divorce.
One of the best ways to gauge how far you’ve come and how much more you have to do is to look at your primary motivation for how you’re living your life.
There are three different phases of motivation that people go through as they heal from their divorce.
Make the pain stop.
This the is the most difficult part of divorce recovery. Living in pain and confusion is the only constant amidst the chaos of your divorce.
You struggle to figure out a way to stop hurting so much as you go through all the phases of grief. You are greatly tempted to medicate the pain away in this phase. You might ask your doctor for a prescription or you might self-medicate with food, alcohol, other mood-altering substances, and/or sex.
The biggest challenge here is to not over medicate yourself so you avoid feeling what you need to experience to actually heal so you can move on to the next phase as you fight to move on with your life after divorce.
You’ll also look for guidance form just about anyone for ideas to make the pain stop. The challenge is that not everyone you’ll be tempted to ask for help will be able to really help you. They’ll each have their own reasons for offering help which may or may not have your best interests as reason #1.
Focus on others.
As the pain starts to subside, you’ll feel numb compared to the tumultuous emotions that were besieging you in the previous phase. You’ll look outside of yourself to keep moving on.
You might start to real focus on your kids or work or your pets or even your friends. This external focus allows you to re-establish and redefine the relationships and your responsibilities that suffered the most as you were dealing with your pain.
Looking at life through this lens of connection and contribution can be extremely motivating. The challenge is that it can also lead to burnout because you’re not necessarily taking care of yourself.
Creating the life you want.
Eventually, you’ll get your relationships and responsibilities stabilized. You may not have everything exactly the way want it, but you’ll accept the way things are with the important people and activities in your life.
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This is when you start becoming motivated by what you want in your life. You’ll find it easy to take the steps necessary to make your life great.
This shift in focus doesn’t mean that you start ignoring what you’ve built up in the last phase, but that now you are motivated on making your life really work for you. The goal now is to feel fulfilled and happy.
And when you reach this phase you’re over the bulk of your divorce recovery work. You may still have a few triggers that hurl you back to the first phase of pain and confusion (like when you find out your ex is in a serious relationship, or when your anniversary rolls around), but you won’t stay there for long.
You know that what lies ahead of you is so much more motivating and appealing than what happened in the past.
As much as knowing these phases will help you get a feel for how much longer you’ll be dealing with getting over your divorce, they can also make it more challenging if you’re one of those people who like to push to accomplish things.
Super-achievers will be tempted to start focusing on what they want to create in their life NOW instead of allowing themselves to thoroughly work through each of the phases.
If this is you, remember that completely recovering from divorce is a process. You can certainly accelerate the process by focusing on the best ways to get through each phase, but not by short-circuiting or skipping any portion of one.
So allow yourself to progress through each of them with intention. As you do, you’ll find that you’ll have dealt with the pain, confusion and outward focus to the point that you’re able to truly create an amazing life for yourself post-divorce.
Source: https://goodmenproject.com/divorce/how-long-will-it-take-to-get-over-your-divorce-wcz/
When one of my kids remarked that he thought there was a profound sadness in me, I was taken aback. He has seen me in a good, solid, happy relationship for several years now, and while life isn’t without its challenges, in general, I have no complaints.
And then it occurred to me.
He is picking up on some aura, some mood, some indefatigable “something” that I am still carrying around, or that returns on certain familial occasions. And after all, since my boys are no longer children, these days it’s at those events that I am most likely to be interacting with my sons — at the holidays, a graduation, some other special celebration.
It’s been more than a dozen years, but the fact of my divorce, the speed with which the marriage unraveled, the ease with which my spouse moved on, the tumultuous aftermath that dragged on for a decade, the onslaught of related losses… All of it still hurts.
And I still ache at having trusted myself to the institution of marriage, to the man with whom I stood at an altar and exchanged vows, and to the family court and judicial systems that broke my beliefs in fairness. What I learned: Never let your guard down entirely, and he or she with the deepest pockets wins.
You may interpret my conclusions as bitterness or cynicism, more pronounced at moments and evaporating at others. Personally, I consider these realizations to be hard-won wisdom. I also recognize my own responses as a function of marital expectations formed in the way I was raised, and my vision for what constitutes family. That includes old school values like honoring commitments, following through on responsibilities, working through issues rather than walking away.
No doubt my personal history comes into play as well; I was single into my 30s having declined a few proposals, deferring marriage until I was ready, convinced I had made an excellent choice.
I’ve heard the lectures about moving on after divorce many times. They are irritating and dismissive, and predicated on assumptions that may not be true for all of us, including the adage that “time heals all wounds.” But moving on is not as simple as a prescription, especially when the past is the present, and the present is indeed a bitter pill.
Oh, there’s likely nothing so special about my story except perhaps how long it raged. Yet in our many hard years since the marriage ended, there was a great deal of good in our little household of one mom, two boys and a big mutt. But that fact doesn’t erase the sadness of having said “I do” to a man who is the father of my children, and who became a stranger to me. It doesn’t undo the bittersweet clarity that when I look into my sons’ faces, I see my dad (long deceased) and my ex’s mother (whom I once loved), both of whom are no longer in my life. I cannot deny that when I hear echoes of family jokes that trace back to my children’s early childhood, I flash immediately to other days.
Then I feel the empty space profoundly — not for a man I do not miss — but where a family history of four ought to be.
Instead, there is the story of the three of us together, of something in me irrevocably fractured, and I can only hope, less so in my sons. And apparently, my sadness lingers at moments. Perhaps it is an aftereffect of the years I was carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. Perhaps it arises on those occasions that invariably spark old memories.
Lest you think that’s all there is, I repeat: These days, life is pretty good. There remains a post-divorce financial cloud from which I may never recover, and lost opportunities as a result. But we weathered storms, my children are now young men, and they will find their own way as we all must, with time.
I am grateful that the man in my life sees my joy and hears my laughter; these are qualities in our life together that are our “normal.” (How great is that?) Still, I can only imagine that he, too, senses the sorrow that is part of who I am. We are none of us any one thing.
As for my children, I hope I have been a model of resourcefulness and curiosity, of determination and positivism. I hope they see that what is good in life can outweigh the hurt of our deepest disappointments.
And so I come to accept my reality: Sadness can coexist with happiness; some wounds may never heal though we learn to live with the pain; some pain may never subside completely. You may consider it phantom pain, but it’s pain nonetheless. And regardless of its source, shouldn’t we be allowed to acknowledge it when it returns, free to express our feelings openly?
Source: https://divorcedmoms.com/blogs/divorce-whirlwind/when-divorce-still-hurts-even-years-later/
5 years post divorce, after selling and moving out of my matrimonial home, I can say that I have survived, and made it through some of the toughest aspects of divorce. Establishing a new relationship with my son's dad was not an easy road, but we did it, and we definitely fare better than most. The fear of how I would survive as a single, working parent has lessened, and now I believe I am juggling in ways I never thought possible. The time alone without my son is not without heartache, but it has definitely become a bit easier. Despite all of the triumphs, there are some things that continue to be really, really hard post divorce.
Seeing my son in pain as a result of divorce.
I wish I could take his tears away. As he gets older he expresses more, and has become vocal (and tearful) about how sad he is that he can't be with both parents at the same time. I reassure him that when he is with either parent, the other is just a call away if he is feeling sad. As much as I love an unexpected call from my baby at any hour of the day, it hurts my heart to hear his tears on the other end. When he asks about why we aren't all together all the time, I have answers that sometimes seem acceptable (i.e. we do special things together like birthdays and school plays), and sometimes there really isn't a satisfactory answer. All I can do is empathize and tell him I know it's really hard and I understand it makes him sad.
I don't know that this part of divorce will ever feel less painful, watching your child struggle with a situation you put them in. All I can hope is that it gets easier for him, and as he grows he will understand why we did it, and how much better we all are or will be for it.
I still cry, a lot.
Divorce is an emotional roller coaster, even 5 years later. Some days the tears are from loneliness, and wondering when I am going to find the right partner for my son and me. Sometimes I cry because I am completely overwhelmed with all that I have on my plate. The littlest thing like a big snowfall has had me bawling on my stairs because shoveling is now one more thing I have to do that night.
I have been judged by people who seem to diminish my load because I only have one child. I would never diminish someone else's stresses before I have walked a day in their shoes. The thought that some people think that, has also caused me pain.
I am still not 100 per cent used to not having my son at all times, and don't know that I ever will be. As a result, sometimes coming home to an empty house triggers an emotional outburst. I don't take for granted the nights I get to kiss him goodnight and see his adorable face in the morning. I probably say I love you and watch him sleep more than others, but in a way it gives me more to hold onto when he goes to his dad's.
Sometimes it can feel like I'm alone on Divorce Island.
Divorce can be really isolating. All of my really good friends are still married, and as a result I don't have a lot of people in my circle who are single, let alone single parents. There is a level of understanding among people who have been through similar experiences, and I hope that over time I meet more single moms (and dads) to add to my social circle.
Social media is not always a platform that brings me joy.
Sure, there are aspects of social media I love. The connection it brings to those I think about often but have lost touch with is like no other, and it's kind of nice (and a little creepy) to run into old acquaintances. It is also hard to see certain things that I'm not quite in a frame of mind to see. I am reminded of friends/family that were once in my life, but are now acquaintances because of divorce. I am reminded of just how few people in my social circle are single and how couple friends continue to grow closer and closer. I go through stages where I want to remove myself completely from social media to save myself from going through a box of Lucky Charms in an evening, but there are 2 things preventing me from doing so. I work in Marketing and oversee social media, so this is not really an option. Second, social media has become my source for news, for connecting with certain communities I am a part of, and a platform for me to celebrate, vent, and not feel so alone. So for now, I am sticking around as the positive elements seem to outweigh the moments of despair.
The cliché that time heals definitely holds truth. For me, the last 5 years are proof of that adage. I do hope that the road for the next phase of healing is a little bit shorter. I am a better person and mom than I was 5 years ago, and the strength I have gained is like none I could have imagined. In some way shape or form, life is hard for everyone. In my 30's, divorce has been my challenge and my major bump in the road. Although I know the healing will continue, I keep reminding myself the worst is behind me and the forecast is looking very sunny.
Source: https://www.huffingtonpost.ca/her-magazine/5-years-post-divorce_b_9459662.html
“The inexorable march of time”.
The quote above is one of my favourites, yet I’ve no idea to which genius I should attribute it. Some lunchtime web-searching has failed to yield the originator of the phrase; whilst I was unclear on the exact meaning, I’m unsurprised to learn that inexorable means ‘impossible to stop or prevent’ and so seems apt as an opener for this piece. Time marches on regardless of what we do, and we are powerless to stop or influence it. All we have is our own interpretation of it and our own perception of what time means to us.
With the birth of a new year I’ve been reflecting on the past and planning for the future, and below I summarise for you now a few key lessons that I treat as absolute and undeniable truths about time.
Time passes more quickly as you get older (even when you don’t want it to)
I recall hearing this one from my grandparents generation on many occasions as a child, and I’m sure it’s been offered to me often by my parents too when I’ve been guilty of wishing my life away. Many of us tend to look beyond where we are now in a bid to bring forth an event or a time in the future where we perceive that things will be in some way better; more enjoyable, less stressful or more fun.
As I approach what is presumably fairly-labelled ‘middle-age’ with my 41st birthday looming I can confirm that the weeks, months and years truly do seem to be flying-by and with ever-increasing speed as I get older. It now seems that before the Christmas decorations have had a chance to gather dust in the attic, the evenings suddenly seem to be getting lighter, my hay-fever and pollen allergies kick in, and summer is looming. Just as I’m getting accustomed to wearing shorts every day, the leaves start falling from the trees and soon after, supermarkets start arranging flamboyant displays of tinsel, discounted brandy and mince-pies at the entrance; within a blink of the eye another Christmas is upon us.
Significant events in the lives of my kids seem to occur with growing velocity too and with the transition of daughter number 1 into high school still a raw and recent memory, she’s now learning to drive a car and only 18 months off either University or entering into the world as a fully-fledged tax-paying adult. “How can this be?” I ask myself and yet I know the answer; my predecessors had it right all along.
Each day seems to take just as long as it ever did, but the weeks and months pass by in a blur. I’m not yet willing to put this down to a failing memory and speculate instead that the many events that accompany raising kids, pursuing a career, seeking happiness, and supporting a family make time seem to pass by quicker and quicker. We simply haven’t the capacity to be mindful enough to acknowledge every part of every event of every day. Maybe I’m wrong and in any case the explanation is pretty academic; the fact is that time feels like it passes-by quicker and whilst I’m not prone to worrying about accelerating towards the final destination of life, it’s certainly a sobering thought.
The opposite can also be true if you choose to look at time at a more granular level. When we’re willing the hands on the clock to speed up, the opposite happens. Putting aside the physical realities that you cannot influence the passing of time, it feels like the more I wish for time to pass by faster (usually when I’ve lost sight of the need to maximise the value and benefit I take from every waking minute), the usual outcome is that it will seem to slow down.
What I’ve learned (from a relatively early age thanks in no small part to parents who wouldn’t tolerate hearing that I was bored, and who would be all too happy to find me a useful means of passing the time if I couldn’t do so for myself) is that it is far easier to distract oneself from the tedium by engaging in something useful, interesting or diverting rather than merely watching the metaphorical paint-dry.
When every second counts, it’s important that you don’t waste it by just counting the seconds.
Time is a healer (and an enabler for learning)
I’ve learned over time that no matter how difficult things may seem, it is always good (if nigh on impossible in the moment) to remember that in the future things won’t seem so bad. With the passing of time, almost everything can be seen through rose-tinted glasses. When looking back at events with the benefit of time, we usually see things with greater clarity than we could ever have mustered in the moment. Periods of great challenge, sadness and upset can be understood better, analysed more effectively and with greater clarity of thought and less-raw emotion, often allowing positive lessons extracted from the events. At the very least it helps us to process things a bit better.
No matter how hard things may seem right now, how little you may believe that you have a chance of coming out of the other side of it smiling (or even breathing), history has a useful means of reminding you that you will do, and furthermore you will marvel at the resilience you have continually demonstrated in the face of adversity.
It is only through being able to look back on things too, both in the immediate aftermath and also at later intervals that you can extract all the lessons from them, and this applies both to the positives as well as the negatives. I can remember many occasions when I’ve treated something as a victory, congratulated myself for a job well-done or for a decision I was convinced was well-made only later to wonder whether I had done the right thing, or if I could have handled it better. Similarly, with the passing of failed relationships it has sometimes taken me years to understand and acknowledge key learnings about myself or how I handled things since at the time all I could see was a need to extract myself from an undesirable situation, and feel relief when I got out.
No matter what happens in life, whether good or bad, the passing of time will continue to yield valuable lessons and insight, without being clouded by emotions that may be present in the moment. Once you realize and embrace this, it becomes a massive source of comfort, benefit and value.
Everything takes more time than you think it will (or want it to)
I pride myself on striving to be productive and make use of every waking moment to achieve things and deliver against the (meticulous) plans I tend to make for all but the most routine of tasks. Having returned to work from 2 week’s vacation over Christmas, I’ve been fortunate to enjoy some quality time with the family and friends and have overindulged to the extent that I was fearful of stepping on the bathroom scales (with due-cause as it turned out).
During that time I’ve completed a house-move, visited friends and relatives around the country and crammed in a number of days of quality ‘me-time’ as well. Whilst I’m glad to have done all these things and view each of them as positive activities and experiences in their own right, I’ve marvelled on several occasions that it’s never, ever possible to get as much done in one 24 hour period as I think it will be.
Consider the house move; I had three days allocated to this over the holidays, one ‘assisted’ by the kids, one with my brother in law to do the heavy-lifting and finally one on my own to box-up the final few bits and pieces, dump a healthy van-load of junk at the municipal tip, and to clean my rental-home in hopeful-anticipation of receiving my full damage deposit back from the landlord.
In each instance I started the day with a clear mental plan detailing how I intended the day to unfold; a list of tasks that would be completed, with an expectation of finishing quicker than planned. Quite why I carried this expectation is a mystery since in reality the converse couldn’t be truer.
My reality is that no matter how rigorous I may be in planning a task, more often than not there will be things that emerge to complicate. More likely I will simply have underestimated how long it would really take either based on optimism or naivety. The same has also been true when planning how much I could cram into a day of leisure; a day when I hoped to take a hike through the local countryside, take a nap, do some writing and clean my car ended up being dominated by the walk at the expense of the other things. This was no bad thing and I enjoyed the time immensely. I wonder though how much more I might have enjoyed it if in the back of my mind I didn’t have a little voice reminding me of all the other things that I had planned and which were going to be missed?
In my professional life I see repeatedly that projects usually, if not always take longer than planned to complete. This isn’t merely an indicator of professional incompetence or serial-optimism but rather a reality of life; no matter how much we may plan, forecast and anticipate delays, the reality is usually that a job done properly will take longer than planned. We specialise in Agile delivery (a methodology that is designed to deliver quick results at regular intervals) and yet even this structured approach can be subject to delaying factors, more often than not seeing delays, or at least less delivered on time than was originally planned.
This law doesn’t seem to just apply at a task level either; it pervades virtually every aspect of my life.
Building a career, improving my golf-swing, writing books, recovering from divorce, falling in love and finding my life-partner (and understanding what this really means), seeing returns on my investments, developing my business, gaining maturity as a parent, developing insight into how my kids think, becoming more proficient and competent professionally, improving my physical fitness, learning how to relate-to and influence different types of people, learning how to roast a turkey, becoming proficient with a power-drill, building an understanding of what dietary habits work for me; each of these diverse examples has taken me time to do, and far more time than I had ever expected or hoped they would at the outset.
I was always an impatient child and I see now that this trait has not completely gone away in adulthood. If it had, I wouldn’t still be finding myself running out of time when trying to complete a task, or leaving work having accomplished a fraction of what I planned to over my morning coffee. What has changed as I’ve aged is that I believe I’ve become more realistic, more laissez-faire and more patient as a whole. I’m as optimistic as I ever was about what could be achieved but I now temper this with realism as to how long I am prepared to give a task before I see results.
These days I still aim for the ultimate goal, but I’m also prepared to accept that it will take time and with the benefit of the aforementioned hindsight I can expect and enjoy lots of mini-goals along the way.
That is surely the blessing of growing older, and certainly one thing that I’m incredibly grateful for in realising with the passing of time; in the past I would have taken it as a failing and something that I sought to correct (or complain about) if I didn’t get what I wanted, when I wanted it.
Nowadays, I acknowledge the fact that along the way there have been, or will be micro-achievements that I can celebrate and the major-achievements will follow provided I’m patient and grateful for what has already gone by.
My challenge now is in making sure I remember this when another deadline slips, and secondly, to instil this in my kids when they expect tomorrow’s results today.
Toby Hazlewood - Divorced Lifestyle Design
