Divorce can easily feel like a drawn-out death.  And like an actual death, one must not only go through the grief cycle  (bargaining, denial, anger, depression, acceptance) - one must ALSO begin to rebuild. 

So today, due to the number of letters I’ve received from people looking for resources, I’m spotlighting two Golden Tools I found most effective on my divorce journey.  And let me add - I STILL use both of these resources regularly.

The first is a self-help book called Something More.  Authored by Sarah Ban Breathnach, who also wrote Simple Abundance, this latest book will help you dig through the ruins of your life (and heart) to excavate your Authentic Self.  I had so many ‘aha’ moments reading this book; I truly can not recommend it highly enough.  It’s smart, at times autobiographical, and it also weaves together stories and quotes from women across history who all intuitively knew they somehow weren’t ’truly’ happy.  A #1 New York Times Bestseller, Something More is now available in soft cover for $13 US or $17 Can.

The second resource I use is The Secret.  And though it’s available in both book form and as a documentary, I found the latter WAY more powerful.  No, this film isn’t specifically about divorce - but it’s about creating the life that you want using the Law of Attraction.  And let’s face it - after divorce, we ALL need a new compass.  I’ve watched it about 10 times.

Below you’ll find the first 20 minutes of The Secret.  If you wish to view the entire feature-length film, you can either rent it at your local video store, or watch it online at the official site: www.thesecret.tv. I can not urge you strongly enough: watch it today!

The movie, The Secret  (for full-screen viewing, press bottom key, second to the right)

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A couple of days ago was the perfect example.  I returned home from custody mediation with my ex with obviously red, puffy eyes.  I came inside my house and immediately went downstairs to my office - I didn’t want my preschool daughter to see my puffy face.  But once in the privacy of my office, I sat down and bawled.

But suddenly, the clock on my computer read lunchtime - I had to go pick up my boys from school for lunch.  I ran to the bathroom and dowsed my face in cold water.  “Get it together Delaine,”  I told myself.  “Find that happy face for the kids.”

And I did.  I greeted them at school with that extra big smile and extra happy voice I’ve perfected this past year in times like these; you know - the ‘mini-eruptions’ that make you want to curl up in ball and sob, or scream at the top of your lungs; not act like Mrs Brady.

There have been many times I’ve had to put on this facade for my children this past year.  And I always will because I want to shield them from upset; divorce crap is for the adults to wade through, not their kids.  

But I have to be honest - sometimes it takes every last ounce of my spirit to find the energy to do so.

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I admit it. Valentine’s Day makes me roll my eyes. I don’t want to say it aloud to all my happily married and in-love friends. But all the dreamy romanticism of this holiday makes me want to …well…spew.

I know it’s cause I’m not ready for a relationship. I know it’s cause true love to me right now is defined by my relationships with me, my kids and my friends. And I also know it’s cause I’d rather have a man stare into my eyes as he’s tying me up, rather than as he whispers sweet I love you’s.

On that note, if you’re wanted to celebrate YOU - the passionate NEW you emerging, that is - at www.adivorcedwoman.com we’re doing a Victoria Secret giveaway; a great way to inspire some self-love (and self-loving) and give the underwear drawer an overhaul.

I can’t help but laugh at my attitude towards Valentine’s Day. It really doesn’t bother me. It’s all Parr for the divorce course I think. Past Valentine’s Days have been all over the map for me - some fabulous, some dreamy, some heartbreaking, and some alone. At the end of the day, it’s really just a day, and we all know that.

I just wish that advertisers would expand their commercial messaging and paraphernalia around Valentine’s Day. Since millions of us are divorced, can they not talk about love more broadly? I mean, ENOUGH with the smooching couples in a heart. ENOUGH with love-sick faces that glow from Cupid’s Golden arrows. Show me a picture of Cupid dipping his arrow in arsenic and doing a bull’s eye in my ex’s forehead, and then maybe I’ll actually want to buy something.

Yeah - I’m a Valentine’s Day grump *grin.

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Don’t expect to be friends with your ex.  Not at the start anyways.  This is what I wish someone, or many people, had told me.

I’m not saying you should expect to be enemies; no, not at all.  I’m saying you should aim for something in the middle - like a ‘professional working relationship.’  It should be polite, somewhat distant, but functional.  No more, but no less.

“But why Delaine?”  You ask.  “Isn’t it in our best interest to be friends?  Isn’t it in the kids best interest?”

Because I’ve seen the same negative cycle repeat itself over and over again with me and my ex, AND other divorcing girlfriends:  We start getting along well with the exes, it feels good…we may go the ‘extra mile’ for them in some way like drive the kids somewhere far away to meet them, or invite them in for dinner…and then IT happens:  a mini-bomb, some kind of comment or event that hurts us, angers us, and leaves us spiralling for days, if not weeks. We all thought we were ‘moving forward’, that things were going so well, that we were ‘big enough’ to move beyond the enormity of the divorce crisis…

But we are human.  And we are grieving amidst a huge life transformation - ALL of us are, exes included. And even though it feels good to connect with our exes, even though it seems comfortable in some ways (though in some ways it’s also strange), the bottom line is our sensitivity levels are high, and people grieve in different ways.  Each person needs the time, space and consideration to grieve in his/her own way and if that isn’t offered, if time isn’t allotted to the recovery process, it’s a countdown till explosion.

I really wanted my ex and I to be friends at the beginning for the kids’ sake.  I wanted to ease the transition into their lives, as any good parent wants, of course.  But two things I MUST point out: first, it is very confusing for the kids to have dad at the dinner table one night, only to then have mom in tears for days and ignoring him the next time he comes by for ‘pick-up.’  It’s no good for the kids to have an unhappy mom, period.  And even though we do our best to hide our sadness and anger from them, little ears pick up on our phone conversations with girlfriends.  Little eyes see when we’re vacantly staring out the window with swollen eyes…. You get my point, I’m sure.

Secondly, in my opinion, young kids (which is what I and my friends all have) are less resistant to change than we give them credit for.  Many of the fears I had around the effects of divorce on my kids were just that: mine.  Yes, I had to work hard to ease the change, yes, I had to ’get in the know,’ read books, and always monitor their speech and action for signs of emotional damage.  But children respond to how WE ( us and our exes) are handling the crisis.  If tension, criticism, and anger abound, they feel it, even if they don’t see or hear it.  On the other hand, if they see mom and dad smiling at each other, talking politely, and acting ‘professionally,’ their world seems safer cause mom and dad are showing kindness and setting a good example of how life change can and should be handled.

So this is the #1 thing I wish someone had told me about the divorce process.  Am I a professional divorce coach or counsellor?  No.  Do you have to take my advice?  Not at all.  But I do believe women (and to some degree, men) learn from each other’s stories.   And if I were sitting having coffee with you, what you just read is what I’d have said to you as a friend; one warrior woman to another.

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“My ex-husband took the kids for the first time this weekend. And my heart is so heavy.”

This message awaited me from a newly-divorcing friend on Facebook this morning.  She was floundering, her free time only reminding her how empty and confused she felt. 

I read her message with a tight chest:  I remember…

Just over a year ago, my own divorce journey began and my-ex started taking our three kids for sleepovers.  I remember the surrealness of the First Time: carefully packing their clothes, writing out a list of activities and reminders, reassuring my kids with the biggest, fake smile ever:  “You’re going to have SO much fun with daddy.”

And then ‘he’ was at the door, lurking in the foyer, not invited in, but here to do ‘pick up.’   Me explaining a few things from the list, my voice too cheery, him not looking at me, while little feet scrambled around to put on shoes and jackets,  The tearful hugs goodbye, again more reassurances, that over-happy voice I used calling out “Bye!  I love you!”  Standing in the doorway, watching my kids walk away, waving and smiling as if they were going out for ice cream.

Then, stepping back into the house – into silence.  A silence so eerie I felt I’d landed on a different planet.  I put away dishes and paced around. I noticed every toy, every belonging of my children.  Here it was – the free time I never had as a single mom.  But it felt empty – ominous. Oh my God, this is really happening.  And I buckled to the floor in tears.    

I’d naively thought that making the final decision to divorce would be the hardest part of the journey – it had taken me three years to swallow that choice.  But of course, divorce is not a decision but a process, one full of many ‘firsts’ that eat you up inside:  like the ex taking the kids for the first sleepover.  Those first times are first steps, followed by second steps and thirds.  And oftentimes, without warning, you take two steps backwards…back into pain, back into the heartache from which there seems no escape or cure.

I sat down at my computer in a frenzied state of purpose: my girlfriend, my fellow warrior, had fallen on her path in the Wilderness of divorce.  And even though I knew that she, and only she, could navigate her way out of that hellhole, I knew she needed me – someone a bit further along the path - to help her regain her footing.   

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