Names

Last week I went through the legal process of returning to my maiden name.  The legal process is surprisingly easy when it's associated with a divorce; notifying all the parties who need to know--bank, Social Security, insurance company, colleagues--will be more difficult.  

I wasn't sure initially whether this was a step I wanted to take, primarily because I was so overwhelmed with all of the other details involved in a divorce.  The details kept me distracted from the more emotionally charged questions. Once I got over obstacles like refinancing the house, I had nothing left but the emotional questions.

The sudden, completely unanticipated way my marriage came apart has shaped my choices.  Having no input in the decision, I felt completely powerless, which has led me to reclaim some where I can. I also cannot deny that some small part of me wanted to strip his name from mine out of anger and maybe a little spite. 

Renaming myself doesn't change me, or the facts of my circumstances.  It does give me a tangible start to this new beginning; it gives a clear delineation between the before and after, and that is very appealing right now. 

Language

Something that's taken me by surprise about my separation and divorce process is how I've had to change the way I describe my everyday experiences. 

Throughout my life, and because of my mother's example, cultivating and maintaining an independent identity has been a priority for me.  Nevertheless, for the last eighteen years I've spoken daily of our home, our dogs, our plans, and how we enjoy doing this and we enjoy going there.  I was part of a we and an us and that was expressed constantly in the things I said.

Going through this separation and divorce, I've learned that every single aspect of my life has changed--including the way I communicate.  It's been like the early stages of learning a new language in the way that I have to translate from the old to the new as I speak.  When my mouth moves faster than my brain and the translation into the new language fails, I'm startled to hear myself describe what we've done and what's going on in our house.

Everything has been upended; nothing in my life remains as it was, and I can't avoid thinking about that fact at every moment.  But I know that each day will bring some small improvement.  I will make my plans, I will take care of my home and my dogs, I will progress and learn the language of my new life. 

Home

It might be a first instinct to think that the home my husband and I built together--where we shared the fun of choosing flooring, cabinets, and countertops--would become an uncomfortable, unwelcoming place now that he has left.  There are times when I'll forget what's happened and start to call out his name only to have the rush of emotion remind me.  Overall, though, I've found that it's been the opposite for me; my home has become my safe haven and a precious comfort.

Immediately after he left, I felt compelled to change as much about my home that I could.  I rearranged furniture in a frenzy, I painted the bathroom red, I bought a new comforter and new dishes.  Had I had the money, I probably would have had a furniture delivery truck in the driveway the very next day.  I wanted to transform the place from our home into my home--to turn it into a place that will welcome me and remind me that I am strong, that I can take care of myself, and that I'll come out on the other side of this experience OK.

In the weeks since that frenzy, my work around the house has become more measured and thoughtful.  I've come to enjoy my cleaning routines (!).  I've poked around the furnace and hot water heater, so that I can figure out what maintenance needs I have.  I've dug up and reseeded big sections of the lawn.  I look forward to the true arrival of spring and then the summer when I will be able to spend pleasant afternoons on the patio among the flowers and birds at the feeder.  I look forward to sharing good times full of good food and laughter in my home with friends and family. 

Most importantly, I'm spending more time looking forward these days, rather than backward at what I've lost.  I'm seeing the possibilities of the future, and my home is a big part of that.