Tuesday, August 1, 2006 at 2:02am
The question you must answer before divorcing
Column: Writing Down Your Soul
In her "Spiritual Geography" series, Janet Conner walks beside the broken hearted, teaching them how to locate their position on the map of spiritual healing and unlock the personal divine guidance that will move them from where they are to where they want to be — Peace. Everyone begins in the Country of Betrayal and proceeds through the Countries of Pain, War, Illusion, Surrender, and Choice. The journey culminates in the Country of Peace with an act of forgiveness and the receipt of a healed, whole, and holy heart. Today, we continue our exploration of Betrayal.
Why did I get a divorce? Simple question, right? Surely everyone asks themselves, "Why am I doing this?" or "Why do I want this?" before they instigate such a seismic change in their life.
In our work lives, we do this automatically. We don't change things just to change them. We study the options and their consequences and we ask ourselves "Why?" before we proceed: Why are we changing our accounts receivable procedure? Will it be an improvement? Why should I change the way I schedule my day? Can I get more done? What benefit is there in keeping the store open later? Will we make more money?
Well, the same process applies — or should apply — to ending a marriage or relationship. But it often doesn't. When people ask why we're getting a divorce, we typically offer a fairly bland but socially-acceptable reason like "We've grown apart," or "We aren't happy." If the people are aware of some juicy details, we might cop to something more substantial like, "Well, he has a drinking problem," or "Her spending is driving me bankrupt."
But even these, although they are valid, are not the reason. It takes digging to uncover the real reason. The digging is painful, but in the end, totally worth it, because once you dig down deep enough to uncover the authentic reason you are getting a divorce, you'll be able to stand in front of anyone, including God, and say, "I'm getting a divorce because..."
I did this. I dug deep — very deep — until I knew why I was getting a divorce.
Our story started the way so many couples' stories start: I discovered my husband was having an affair. This single crack in our marriage quickly exploded into several gaping wounds. One piece of information led to two. Two became ten. There wasn't one affair; there was a lifetime of affairs. There wasn't one unprotected sexual encounter; there were dozens. Suddenly, this didn't feel like something to work on; this felt like a death.
When I saw the movie Titanic, I felt great empathy for the ship. That poor "perfect" ship had the truth pointed out to it with brutal clarity. A few scrapes became a few gashes. A few gashes became torrents of water. Water filled the compartments to the top of the bulkheads. The open bulkheads let the water spill over and fill adjacent compartments and the ship began to die. The truth is the ship began to die the second it touched the iceberg. Or more accurately, it began to die when it left the dock because the bulkheads were not designed to prevent water from escaping into adjoining holds.
Just like that poor beautiful ship, I think my marriage was broken before it started. It had several poorly designed "bulkheads." Some of those bulkheads were:
* He'll change when he gets married.
* I love and want this baby so much; surely he feels the same way.
* He doesn't really drink too much.
* That scary bout of depression he had a few years ago won't happen again.
* We don't share a spiritual life, but that's okay; I'll just continue to read and grow on my own.
* When the baby is born, he'll realize that he needs to get his business in order and start helping out financially.
* It doesn't matter that he has a bad temper at work; he's never yelled directly at me.
* Yes, he treats his mother poorly, but maybe he has good reasons.
* I've heard about him being a ladies' man, but that's all in the past.
Those broken bulkheads were always there. If I had listened to my intuition, if I had looked at the reality of our lives, if I had paid attention to the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, I could have recognized them. But I didn't. I just put on my blinders and kept going, working harder and harder to create the life I thought would make us happy: married couple, nice house, beautiful family, savings in the bank. Taa Daa! Perfect!
Once the reality of the affair was thrust in my face where I couldn't pretend I didn't see it anymore, the whole truth started pouring out. Within days people called and told me things I didn't want to hear. His business partner said, "Oh, I guess you just couldn't take the other women anymore." His best friend said, "You know he never really wanted to get married." His family told me things he said about being married. And my family relished the opportunity to finally tell me exactly what they thought of him, and how he treated me. This ship was sinking fast!
So, I was floored when my husband asked incredulously, "Why do you want a divorce?" He hounded me with this question and no matter what answer I gave he didn't stop asking. If I said it was the affairs, he said I drove him to them. If I brought up the drugs, he said they were helping. The drinking... he wasn't an alcoholic. The temper... he's under pressure right now. No matter what reason I gave it didn't satisfy him and he'd ask again, "Why do you want a divorce? Why?"
I see now what a blessing this was. Because in truth I wasn't telling him the real reason. I wasn't even admitting to myself what I could no longer endure.
I can see why the sudden demand for a divorce made no sense to him. After all, I had tolerated the unfaithfulness, the drinking, the prescription drug abuse, and the temper. I had covered the way he treated his family by buying their presents and calling them on holidays myself.
I had made his life easy by picking up after him, paying all the bills, buying his favorite 21-year-old scotch, picking up his dry cleaning, entertaining his friends, wearing what he wanted, doing what he wanted. I had created the perfect life — for him. So what was different now? Why after twenty years was I suddenly putting on the brakes?
It was fair for him to ask, and he asked every day, "Why do you want a divorce?" He asked every time he called the house, "Why do you want a divorce?" One day, he asked me at his therapist's office, "Why do you want a divorce?"
I looked at his therapist, "Do you want to know?"
"Yes," the counselor said, "I'd like to hear your reasons."
I said, "Fine, I'll tell you next week."
The next morning, I picked up my sacred journal and wrote, "Dear God, he wants to know why I want a divorce. Well, husband, let me tell you why. I want a divorce because..." And it came out. And out. And out. Five pages of reasons. Some sensible, some silly. Some big, some picayune. But in the end, the reason that mattered — the reason that got me in motion — was the one they all built up to, and the last one to appear on the page: "because I am afraid of you."
When I met my husband at his therapist's the next week, I said, "You asked me why I want a divorce. I've written my reasons. Can I read them to you?" They nodded. I put my head down and read the five pages in my journal straight through, ending with "because I am afraid of you."
When I finished, I looked up at my husband. He was staring at me. For the first time in months, there was something beside hatred in his eyes. For the first time, he didn't look like he wanted to leap up and pounce on me. I looked at his therapist. He was motionless too, eyes wide. He nodded slowly and said softly, "Well, I think that's clear."
Why are you getting a divorce? Have you asked yourself that question? Do you know the reason — the real reason? If you are not sure, it's time to get clear about it. Write this question in your journal: "Dear God, why do I want a divorce?" Start the next line with "because..." It doesn't matter how silly or stupid or vain the reasons are: because you left your shoes in the hallway, because you made a fool of yourself last New Year's Eve, because you never liked my best friend, because you gave me a pan for my birthday...
Just keep going. Eventually you will dig deep enough to find the truth. It's there, waiting for you to see it, recognize it, name it and declare it. And somewhere inside those words is a real jewel — the seed of your new beginning.
By saying that I did not want to live in fear anymore I began the process of creating a new kind of life without fear. You are beginning to create a new kind of life, too. Buried inside the question, "Why do I want a divorce?" is the answer that will lead you to your new beginning.
Next week: How do you get out of Betrayal
— — —
Janet Conner, S.E. (Spiritual Explorer), is an expert on the power of practical spirituality to heal your broken heart and transform your world. She is the cartographer of the map of spiritual healing and author of the seven travel guides in the Spiritual Geography series. In addition to divine dialogue, she welcomes human conversation at {email janetconner@tampabay.rr.com}janetconner@tampabay.rr.com{/email}. © copyright 2006 by Janet Conner
— — —
ReligionAndSpirituality.com is a big tent for all expressions
of faith and spirituality, neither excluding nor favoring any.
All opinions expressed belong to the writer alone, and are
not necessarily shared by ReligionAndSpirituality.com.
Why did I get a divorce? Simple question, right? Surely everyone asks themselves, "Why am I doing this?" or "Why do I want this?" before they instigate such a seismic change in their life.
In our work lives, we do this automatically. We don't change things just to change them. We study the options and their consequences and we ask ourselves "Why?" before we proceed: Why are we changing our accounts receivable procedure? Will it be an improvement? Why should I change the way I schedule my day? Can I get more done? What benefit is there in keeping the store open later? Will we make more money?
Well, the same process applies — or should apply — to ending a marriage or relationship. But it often doesn't. When people ask why we're getting a divorce, we typically offer a fairly bland but socially-acceptable reason like "We've grown apart," or "We aren't happy." If the people are aware of some juicy details, we might cop to something more substantial like, "Well, he has a drinking problem," or "Her spending is driving me bankrupt."
But even these, although they are valid, are not the reason. It takes digging to uncover the real reason. The digging is painful, but in the end, totally worth it, because once you dig down deep enough to uncover the authentic reason you are getting a divorce, you'll be able to stand in front of anyone, including God, and say, "I'm getting a divorce because..."
I did this. I dug deep — very deep — until I knew why I was getting a divorce.
Our story started the way so many couples' stories start: I discovered my husband was having an affair. This single crack in our marriage quickly exploded into several gaping wounds. One piece of information led to two. Two became ten. There wasn't one affair; there was a lifetime of affairs. There wasn't one unprotected sexual encounter; there were dozens. Suddenly, this didn't feel like something to work on; this felt like a death.
When I saw the movie Titanic, I felt great empathy for the ship. That poor "perfect" ship had the truth pointed out to it with brutal clarity. A few scrapes became a few gashes. A few gashes became torrents of water. Water filled the compartments to the top of the bulkheads. The open bulkheads let the water spill over and fill adjacent compartments and the ship began to die. The truth is the ship began to die the second it touched the iceberg. Or more accurately, it began to die when it left the dock because the bulkheads were not designed to prevent water from escaping into adjoining holds.
Just like that poor beautiful ship, I think my marriage was broken before it started. It had several poorly designed "bulkheads." Some of those bulkheads were:
* He'll change when he gets married.
* I love and want this baby so much; surely he feels the same way.
* He doesn't really drink too much.
* That scary bout of depression he had a few years ago won't happen again.
* We don't share a spiritual life, but that's okay; I'll just continue to read and grow on my own.
* When the baby is born, he'll realize that he needs to get his business in order and start helping out financially.
* It doesn't matter that he has a bad temper at work; he's never yelled directly at me.
* Yes, he treats his mother poorly, but maybe he has good reasons.
* I've heard about him being a ladies' man, but that's all in the past.
Those broken bulkheads were always there. If I had listened to my intuition, if I had looked at the reality of our lives, if I had paid attention to the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, I could have recognized them. But I didn't. I just put on my blinders and kept going, working harder and harder to create the life I thought would make us happy: married couple, nice house, beautiful family, savings in the bank. Taa Daa! Perfect!
Once the reality of the affair was thrust in my face where I couldn't pretend I didn't see it anymore, the whole truth started pouring out. Within days people called and told me things I didn't want to hear. His business partner said, "Oh, I guess you just couldn't take the other women anymore." His best friend said, "You know he never really wanted to get married." His family told me things he said about being married. And my family relished the opportunity to finally tell me exactly what they thought of him, and how he treated me. This ship was sinking fast!
So, I was floored when my husband asked incredulously, "Why do you want a divorce?" He hounded me with this question and no matter what answer I gave he didn't stop asking. If I said it was the affairs, he said I drove him to them. If I brought up the drugs, he said they were helping. The drinking... he wasn't an alcoholic. The temper... he's under pressure right now. No matter what reason I gave it didn't satisfy him and he'd ask again, "Why do you want a divorce? Why?"
I see now what a blessing this was. Because in truth I wasn't telling him the real reason. I wasn't even admitting to myself what I could no longer endure.
I can see why the sudden demand for a divorce made no sense to him. After all, I had tolerated the unfaithfulness, the drinking, the prescription drug abuse, and the temper. I had covered the way he treated his family by buying their presents and calling them on holidays myself.
I had made his life easy by picking up after him, paying all the bills, buying his favorite 21-year-old scotch, picking up his dry cleaning, entertaining his friends, wearing what he wanted, doing what he wanted. I had created the perfect life — for him. So what was different now? Why after twenty years was I suddenly putting on the brakes?
It was fair for him to ask, and he asked every day, "Why do you want a divorce?" He asked every time he called the house, "Why do you want a divorce?" One day, he asked me at his therapist's office, "Why do you want a divorce?"
I looked at his therapist, "Do you want to know?"
"Yes," the counselor said, "I'd like to hear your reasons."
I said, "Fine, I'll tell you next week."
The next morning, I picked up my sacred journal and wrote, "Dear God, he wants to know why I want a divorce. Well, husband, let me tell you why. I want a divorce because..." And it came out. And out. And out. Five pages of reasons. Some sensible, some silly. Some big, some picayune. But in the end, the reason that mattered — the reason that got me in motion — was the one they all built up to, and the last one to appear on the page: "because I am afraid of you."
When I met my husband at his therapist's the next week, I said, "You asked me why I want a divorce. I've written my reasons. Can I read them to you?" They nodded. I put my head down and read the five pages in my journal straight through, ending with "because I am afraid of you."
When I finished, I looked up at my husband. He was staring at me. For the first time in months, there was something beside hatred in his eyes. For the first time, he didn't look like he wanted to leap up and pounce on me. I looked at his therapist. He was motionless too, eyes wide. He nodded slowly and said softly, "Well, I think that's clear."
Why are you getting a divorce? Have you asked yourself that question? Do you know the reason — the real reason? If you are not sure, it's time to get clear about it. Write this question in your journal: "Dear God, why do I want a divorce?" Start the next line with "because..." It doesn't matter how silly or stupid or vain the reasons are: because you left your shoes in the hallway, because you made a fool of yourself last New Year's Eve, because you never liked my best friend, because you gave me a pan for my birthday...
Just keep going. Eventually you will dig deep enough to find the truth. It's there, waiting for you to see it, recognize it, name it and declare it. And somewhere inside those words is a real jewel — the seed of your new beginning.
By saying that I did not want to live in fear anymore I began the process of creating a new kind of life without fear. You are beginning to create a new kind of life, too. Buried inside the question, "Why do I want a divorce?" is the answer that will lead you to your new beginning.
Next week: How do you get out of Betrayal
— — —
Janet Conner, S.E. (Spiritual Explorer), is an expert on the power of practical spirituality to heal your broken heart and transform your world. She is the cartographer of the map of spiritual healing and author of the seven travel guides in the Spiritual Geography series. In addition to divine dialogue, she welcomes human conversation at {email janetconner@tampabay.rr.com}janetconner@tampabay.rr.com{/email}. © copyright 2006 by Janet Conner
ReligionAndSpirituality.com is a big tent for all expressions
of faith and spirituality, neither excluding nor favoring any.
All opinions expressed belong to the writer alone, and are
not necessarily shared by ReligionAndSpirituality.com.