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I found out this week that my divorce to my husband of twenty-one years (and the guy I dated for four before that) is official. Yep, some judge signed the paperwork and, just like that … I am single again for the first time since college.


I got the news via email and I sat, shook, and cried at the reality of it. Reality … probably not the right word, as it honestly doesn’t even feel real yet. It just kind of feels numb—like a big sad pit. I don’t want him back. I want to move on, so this is a good thing, I know. I texted a couple of friends a few minutes later feeling the need to share it with someone, though I didn’t feel like talking. As the news spread, I got back more than a few “Congratulations” from friends, family, and co-workers. Somehow, congratulations just doesn’t seem like the right word. I’m not trying to be melodramatic—I just think it’s sad and it’s brought on a numb kind of funk that I can’t seem to shake. Normal?


There is no final judgment yet on support and custody. That makes it feel less real I think too, but there’s more to it than that. I think divorce is like a rough game of dodgeball. The balls keep flying at you—sometimes you see them coming while others just smack you when you least expect it. Those can leave an awfully big mark and those marks seem to take longer to fade away. I can’t wait for the balls to stop.

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