Today is a somewhat sad day for me because it was a year ago that sir fancypants and I boarded a cruise ship for what I thought was just another one in a lifetime of romantic trips. I remember drinking a glass of Chardonnay at lunch, talking about someday drinking martinis as we crossed the Arctic Circle, looking forward to nearly two uninterrupted weeks with him, and thinking how happy I was with what my life had become. Looking at the photos from that trip and remembering the fun we had, I’m still perplexed as to why he wanted a divorce barely a month later. But c’est la vie. I’m quite happy on my own and I’m actually really enjoying life after divorce.
It was excruciating at the time, but in retrospect, his nastiness throughout the divorce was a gift. He’d orchestrated it all in order to hurt and humiliate me, but he went too far and it had turned comical in the end. Having the locks changed on moving day at the same time my movers were scheduled to come… really? That’s some bad theatre. Knowing who he really is has made it easier to move on, be happy, and find ways of enjoying life after divorce. Really, who wants to be married to a short, bald, cruel, vindictive ass? He used to tell his son that he’d married well out of his league. He had. It was a stroke of good fortune that’ll (hopefully) only come once in his lifetime.
The final assets have been split and I’m sure it chaps his ass that there isn’t more coming. He actually contacted my accountant about the valuation of my company and tried to make a case that he should be entitled to half of this year’s earnings. Nice try, asshole. Enjoying life after divorce
I’m not sad about losing him or the fact that my marriage failed. I’m angry at myself for being duped. Damn my weakness for Englishmen! If he hadn’t been English he wouldn’t even have gotten a second look, let alone a first date. My first thought when I met him was, “damn, he really lied about his height.” But I’m only 5’2″ and he charmed the hell out of me, so sometimes the planets align and even short, bald assholes of limited means end up marrying someone better than they deserve.
That said, I still have a weakness for Englishmen. Though I’m not in any hurry to find another one.
With the benefit of time and space, I know that the failure of my marriage wasn’t about anything that I did or didn’t do. I tried to stay and work on it, honoring my commitment to someone who had already made up his mind that he didn’t want me for reasons that’ll always be a mystery. I moved on with class and dignity while he acted like an arrogant fool. If his ego ever allows it, I hope that someday he’ll look back with shame and embarrassment over how he acted.
Enjoying Life after Divorce
Being self-employed and on my own, especially in a foreign country has caused me many sleepless nights. I never would’ve quit a full-time job to go freelance as a singleton. Fortunately, those sleepless nights are behind me because I’m rocking it!
Without the distractions of a husband, the teenage kids from is his first failed marriage, his residual inadequate father guilt, and all of the drama that entailed, I’m able to do my best work and give my clients my full attention. I’ve had one day off in almost three months and there doesn’t seem to be any sign of it slowing down. I don’t quite agree with the idea that if you find something you love, you’ll never work a day in your life, but I’m grateful to be good at something I love and to be so in demand. Still, I wouldn’t mind one lazy summer day lounging on my balcony with a book. Enjoying life after divorce
I’ve found an absolute oasis in this apartment and I can’t imagine living anywhere else! It’s the perfect size for Opie and me, and the balcony is like having another whole room. We sleep with the balcony doors open and wake up to the sounds of birds, church bells, and sometimes rain. I can see now why Frederiksbjerg is the most desirable neighborhood in Aarhus. I can’t believe I get to live in the heart of it!
Last week, I spotted this vintage fan in the window of a thrift shop just after they’d closed. So I went at opening time the next morning and snagged it for 55 kr. (about $8.50). Another fan popped up on Saturday, but the store had already closed, and it had been sold by the time I got back to Aarhus yesterday. It would’ve been perfect in my bedroom, but maybe multiples of the same thing would’ve made them less interesting? It wasn’t meant to be, and that’s ok. Something else will come along.
I’ve finally gotten around to buying houseplants, which I love, and which Opie loves to eat. I’m still working out how to have both a cat and houseplants, so far with limited success. I’ve tried putting cottonballs soaked in vinegar around the bottom of the pots, but it doesn’t seem to deter him. I’ve hung some of them, but I can’t hang them all. If you have any suggestions, I’d love to hear them.
I went to Amsterdam again last weekend! In all of the drama of this past year, I’ve gained one of the best friends I’ve ever had (Hey, Vicky!). She’s someone who’s there for me, who makes me laugh so hard my face hurts, and then takes a photo. She knows pretty much everything there is to know about skincare (and me, really) and has all but wiped that godawful marriage and divorce off of my face.
So while today, part of me would like to be back on that cruise ship sipping Chardonnay and flirting over lunch with the man I thought was my soulmate, I’m actually in a much better place. I’m finding happiness on my own and I’m very much enjoying life after divorce.