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One night, about a year after our divorce, I phoned my ex-husband to tell him about my bad day.
He asked if I had any sangria, my favorite drink; I did not. Within an hour, a delivery person showed up at my door with sangria — ordered by my ex. I called him, thanked him, and posted it on Facebook. One of my friends replied, "I love your divorce!"
My ex and I had been together for 35 years (married 25) when we divorced. We'd tried everything we could think of to stay together, and it took years to get to the point where we both gave up. But after we did, things improved immediately. In fact, they got so much better during the divorce process that we both wondered whether maybe we were making a mistake.
We truly like each other as people — even though we changed so much. But when the pressure of the marriage was no longer there, we were able to see each other again as simply family. We weren't the same people we married — nobody is the same person after almost 40 years — but we were still, at our core, people who enjoyed being around each other. We still love parts of each other.
On the night before our divorce was final, we celebrated the imminent end of being tied together by paperwork.
We went to a local restaurant we'd always wanted to try but had never managed to. It was margarita night; they were "jumbo" drinks, and we each had two.
We made friends with the owner and the hostess — as usual, wherever we went. We silently agreed not to tell the employees we were about to get divorced. They didn't find out until my ex went on a date there one night, and they were really confused when we went in for margaritas again a few months later when I was in town.
I know many divorced people who aren't friends with their ex-spouses. I'm truly sad for them because having this man who had been my rock for many years still be available as part of my support system has contributed to the strength I've needed to recover from the collateral damage of a divorce.
There was some emotional fallout, and we were able to bounce things off each other. We were able to commiserate about difficulties in dating and communicate the best ways to help our young adult children.
There was financial fallout, and we were better able to successfully navigate the dips in both our incomes and figure out strange tax situations without yelling.
There were difficulties that resulted from the team — our family — being split up. Thankfully, we had each other to navigate this new terrain together.
On the night of our celebration, we had yet to know all that, but we were already aware that things looked brighter for both of us.
It didn't take long for us to move to a different role in each other's lives and look fondly back to when we were married without dwelling on what eventually caused the divorce. Yes, it might be romanticizing or applying a nostalgic lens, but why is that bad?
We can't be married anymore for several reasons, but that doesn't mean I regret marrying him. That marriage was right for both of us — for a very long time.
We met when I was 19 and he was 20. As another of my friends said, we grew up together. Large parts of our personalities were shaped by each other. We don't hate those people. We simply no longer want the same things out of life and can better manage what we do want without the other as a partner.
On the night of our divorce, we said goodbye to the bad parts, but the bad parts didn't negate the good parts. We decided to find new ways of walking in this world, but we still want to make new memories as a family.
And we raised a glass — well, a few glasses — to happiness and love.
