Before I launch into this post, I want you to know that it’s one I very nearly didn’t share as its so personal. It’s not something that I would normally share with the world. Rather I would typically discuss it with certain friends in a one on one scenario. I’m more of a private person than a public person.

However, as I reflected on this post and my feelings as I’ve been through this journey, I realised that there are probably quite a few women out there in the same boat as me needing to know they are not alone.

Grey Divorce

I’m talking about what has become known as Grey Divorce - i.e. people getting divorced in their fifties or older. Apparently it’s a growing area, rising from a rate of one in 10 in 1990 to one in four people getting divorced being over 50 in 2015 (according to research in the States).

I’ve been with my husband for 37 years, 27 of those as a married couple. I met him when I was 18. He was nine years older than me and I realise now that I gave away my power right then and there, giving way to his greater knowledge and experience.

We’ve weathered many storms and always came out stronger on the other side, and I believed that would continue to be the case. But then the perfect storm hit seven years ago and it all began to crumble. What I thought was strong had cracks that turned into chasms.

No longer on the same page

Where we were on the same page, I now realised we were both heading in two completely different directions. It was like the curtain had been pulled back on my marriage and the reality was staring me in the face.

There is no infidelity or other people involved, no addictions or abuse. It’s more of an evolvement in the relationship - a bit like friendships that are strong for a while and then fade as children and other things take over your life.

I realised that I’d given so much to the relationship and to the family that I had nothing left. My emotional cup was empty - literally - and I just had nothing left to give. The ‘pause’ I took earlier in the year was to give myself some time alone to refill that cup.

There was a turning point

There are, of course, other things that build up over time such as resentments and frustrations, or habits that irritate, so when people ask me why we are separating, I have a million things that run through my head. Having said that it would be fair to say that there was a pivotal point in our relationship where it became abundantly clear that it was no longer working and the chances of it changing were incredibly slim.

My resistance

Having recognised that, there was a great deal of resistance in me. Maybe I was just exaggerating and it wasn’t that bad? Maybe I was just bored? Perhaps I’m just in a low point and seeing the negatives rather than the positives? But trying to turn it around and see the positives just didn’t seem to be working. After doing this for several years, I finally realised it was greater than that and focusing on the positives wasn’t going to fix it.

I’ve struggled with the idea of separation and divorce. I didn’t want to be that person, that statistic. I didn’t want to be judged. I didn’t want to hurt my husband. And even though my boys are grown, I worried about the affect on them, and what the ‘family’ would look like in the future. I’ve questioned so much over and over in my head. I’ve wondered if it’s wrong for us to head in different directions or is it simply our evolution as people and as a couple?

The overwhelming fear

The fear I’ve had to overcome to take this step has been immense. After all, this is all I’ve known since I was 18. The question of “will this be the biggest mistake of my life?” has weighed heavily on me. The fear of being alone and destitute in my old age has been a biggie. How will I cope with everything on my own when I’m used to shared responsibilities in all areas? Will I be able to pay my bills, eat, put petrol in my car, and maintain any property?

It has taken me years of not being happy and trying to understand my feelings, and an intense year of soul searching, discussion and counselling to be able to come to the conclusion that separation is what is best for both of us.

I always thought we’d make it right to the end - that we’d be together until death separated us - and there has been a lot of adjustment on my part to realise that staying together just to say “we made it” is the wrong reason to continue in a relationship.

Financially we would be better off staying together, but again, for me that’s the wrong reason to remain in a marriage. It has to feel right, in the heart, in the soul, and for a number of reasons that ‘rightness’ has left our marriage.

Till death do us part

To be honest, it’s made me look at marriage with different eyes, wondering whether “till death do us part” is still appropriate in this day and age.

According to an article by Dr Habib Sadeghi and Dr Sherry Sami “during the upper Paleolithic period of human history (roughly 50,000BC to 10,000BC) the average human life expectancy at birth was 33. By 1900, U.S. life expectancy was only 46 for men, and 48 for women. Today, it’s 76 and 81 respectively. So for 52,000 years between our Paleolithic ancestors and the dawn of the 20th Century, life expectancy rose just 15 years. In the last 114 years, it’s increased by 43 years for men, and 48 years for women.”

Humans simply weren’t in relationships for 25-60 years until recently. Compared to early humans, we are now living three lifetimes.

According to Phyllis Foundis in her book “Love and Sags”, when humans discovered farming, relationships also changed. She notes that “our hunger for survival was replaced by a lust for possessions, property and keeping the wealth in the family”.

Being married was about protection and possession, and for women in the not so distant past with no rights to earn money or own property, it was the only form of security they had.

But that’s not the case today. Women have made huge leaps and bounds in this area, and although we are not yet treated as equal in all things, we are definitely on the way.

I’m still pro-marriage

Now please don’t get me wrong. I love marriage and all that it offers. I have enjoyed being in a committed long term partnership so it has been a struggle to come to terms with the idea that it won’t be able to take us forward.

But people change. They grow, expand, and occasionally head off in unexpected directions and it’s not always easy for the other party to accept and adjust. The question for me is are we expecting too much for people to stay with the same person for 30-60 years?

The grief

There has been a great deal of sadness, disappointment and grief over the ending of something that has held us together for so long, and I’ve had to give myself time to adjust, to sit with it and accept that our relationship has evolved and we are both starting new journeys.

I’ve had to let go of the attachment to the idea of my marriage and what that meant to me in order to be able to stand in my own power and look towards a future that is so entirely different to the last nearly four decades.

The untangling

We have to untangle all the interwoven parts of our lives so that we can each branch out on our own and build new lives for ourselves - and it’s hard! In so many ways. And we are only at the start of the untangling. There is so far to go yet.

But it also feels right. There are new beginnings for both of us and I think in the end we will each be happier. But it is an undeniably painful process to work through. It has required immense amounts of compassion and empathy, bravery and courage.

We are working hard to keep it amicable, to show our boys that it doesn’t need to be nasty or hurtful. There is a long way to go on this journey and from time to time there are flare ups, but overall we’ve managed to keep it as gentle as possible.

Facing forward

I’m in my mid fifties. The view looks different from when I was in my mid twenties. Time has become precious and not something to be wasted.

So for me now, it’s about facing forward. Facing a new future in a way I’ve never experienced before, where I’m on my own in every single area of my life. It’s scary but also exciting. The fear is never far away and at times I have to make a mammoth effort to stay focused on the future rather than lamenting the past. Sometimes I just give in and feel the pain of it all, knowing that it’s better to let it wash over me than hold it inside.

This is my life though - no one else’s. I’m starting to feel that I can be ‘me’ - a strange feeling after all this time. I don’t need to live up to anyone else’s expectations, and that in itself is quite freeing.

Karen