John Hancock

23 Sep

I got a call from the lawyer’s office today that the divorce papers are ready for my John Hancock. Remember the other day when I said I was ready? Well, I still feel ready but certainly not great. At peace with my decision, but not completely at peace with the fact that this has happened to me.

It’s a really weird feeling. It’s a hard one to describe. So far I’ve found that my friends who have been divorced get it without any explanation. My friends who haven’t been through this question what my hesitation means. Does it mean I’m not ready? Does it mean I have doubts about going through with it? Does it mean I’ve changed my mind. No, no, and absolutely not.

It does mean that it’s a huge step. It’s a turning point. It’s final. Official. Real.

When I got the call, I immediately felt sick to my stomach. Anxious. Nervous. I wanted to cry. Signing these papers means forever leaving him and the relationship behind. It means forever being “divorced”. Ouch.

I still have a hard time with the failure aspect of this whole thing. People say I didn’t fail. I tell others who are divorced they didn’t fail. Believing this myself, about myself, is a whole other ballgame. Signing these papers means I’m admitting I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have married him in the first place. It means I’m breaking promises. I meant it when I said “til death do us part.” Now I don’t. It means forever having an ex-husband. A first husband. Not the end of the world, but certainly not something I’m proud of. It’s obvious I still have some work to do. Focus on the things I am proud of. Not be ashamed to say “I’m divorced.”

I know these things will come. I also know I’ll sign the papers next week. At some point. Margaritas will be involved.

Love and moving on,
Amy

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