Finding My Identity Again After Divorce

Wife. Veteran. Teacher. Dog mom. Christian. Student. Friend. Coach.

So many titles that defined who I was. For six years, though, the one that dominated my life was wife. It was so engrained in the very fiber of my being. I was in love with my husband in a way I didn’t really know was possible. All my decisions and life choices, and even dinner plans, took him into consideration. We made big purchases together after long conversations debating the pros and cons. We picked travel destinations together based on whose family we were going to see or when we could both get time off work. We both decided to get out of the military at the end of our first enlistment due to the plans we had for a life together. Everything was a team decision.

Right up until it wasn’t.

Right up until he made the decision to walk away, hand me divorce papers for Christmas, and start a life with someone else.

All of the sudden I was lost. I had forgotten how to function on my own. How to make decisions just for my happiness or for my stability. If I’m being honest, it took me far longer than I’d care to admit to figure out how to be a person in charge of my own life. It was slow going and harder than I ever expected. But once I started to find my footing again, I refused to look back.

It started with small steps.

Picking out a paint color to cover the awful creamsicle orange he had chosen for the bathroom is the first decision I can remember being coherent enough to make on my own. Painting dirty words on the wall with my girlfriends before we actually covered the walls with a serene sea-foam green helped that knot in my heart loosen just a tiny bit.

Traveling solo to Charleston for a teaching conference was the next step. My husband hated to travel. The idea of vacation was just not something he enjoyed. If he had off, he wanted to be able to sit at home, play his video games, and do nothing. But me? I wanted to explore! I wanted to eat good food, walk down cobblestone streets, wander by the pastel-colored homes while the sea air blew my hair in my face. I had never taken a trip alone before. Never stayed solo in a hotel for any reason. Being in my favorite city put air back in my lungs and reminded me that sitting and sipping an overpriced coffee while taking in the scenery wasn’t a waste of time if it brought me peace.

Becoming social again was the biggest, and hardest, step yet. In general, I fall into the social butterfly category while he was one step away from being a hermit. Whenever we were invited to parties or cookouts or anything that involved more than two other people joining us for dinner, I knew there was a two-hour limit on staying. At that two-hour mark he would start to look at me with the “can we leave now?” face that I knew all too well. I’d always go home with him and feel as though I was disappointing him by wanting to stay and disappointing myself for not asking for more time with our friends.

After he left it took me quite a while to want to go out with anyone. No one knew what to say to me or how to interact with me. It was as though they all wanted to know how I was doing and learn the details of what was going on, but at the same time they were afraid if they asked I’d burst into tears at any moment. Trust me, I understand how they were feeling because I never knew quite what to say to people at that point either. But finally, I accepted an invitation to a friend’s graduation party. It was a house I had been to many times and I knew if I left early no one would judge me. Yet somehow, I found myself there for hours. I left only to help my mom with something, let the dog out, and returned to find the party still in full swing. I gave the reader’s digest version of the divorce to friends who hadn’t heard yet and I laughed when they started listing the horrible things we should do to him to get revenge. At the end of the night, my friend hugged me and said she was so glad to see me smile again. It was just another piece of the puzzle of who I was going to be now on my own being put into place.

The path to finding out who I am without the title of wife attached to my name is not over yet. There are still days I wake up and wonder what is going to happen to me now on my own. I am tiptoeing into dating (which is a topic that needs its own essay!). I am finding new interests, learning what I am truly passionate about without the doubts of someone else hanging over my head. I’m letting my nerd flag fly with pride instead of hiding the giant kid inside of me out of fear of embarrassing him in public. I’m embracing my body in a new way that I never had before. I’m still making mistakes, but I’m also enjoying life. And that, that is makes all the work of figuring out who I want to be worth the work.

Katherine Gauthier:
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