Women change

My friend left her husband.

She didn’t tell him she was leaving. She just quietly shipped her belongings out of the country one box at a time, then snuck away like a thief in the night. He woke up the next morning and she was gone.

I didn’t think she was going to do it that way. She said she was, but after we had talked about it I thought she had come ‘round and was going to do it a little gentler. But she didn’t.

I sent her an e-mail the day after she left to ask how things went, but apparently it was a family e-mail account, and her husband intercepted it and he called me later, devastated.

He said “Why did she do this? How could she do this?”

He was looking for hope. I had none to offer him, only that he shouldn’t feel guilty or blame himself for anything. This was all about her. She had told me she was doing this because of something inside her, she just had to.

Yesterday my friend MJ called. MJ and her husband have been very close “couples friends” with my other friend and her husband. MJ said, “We just want to help him. He’s doing very badly. Can you tell me anything?”

They were looking for hope. They all just wanted to give him something to hang onto. So did I.

But MJ and I have talked about this before. Women change. Some more dramatically than others, but around 50, when those hormone levels start dropping, we’re different.

I just read “The Female Brain” and it talks a lot about estrogen and how as hormone levels decrease as women get older, so do a lot of our feminine care-giving proclivities. Estrogen is all part of the design that makes us good mothers and wives. But when those hormones drop, we shift. We no longer get our highs from sitting in the bleachers cheering for our families and making sure everyone eats right.

I said to MJ, “maybe [ ] should read ‘The Female Brain.’ That’s probably what’s really going on.” MJ said “Yeah I agree with you. But he won’t get it. Men don’t get it.”

It’s kind of a cruel trick of nature that as women get older they develop greater needs for independence and derive less joy from taking care of everybody else; just around the time when their spouses start getting softer and needier.

I used to think men preferred younger women for the sex, but now I think the wanting-to-please-and-take-care-of-everyone effects of good estrogen are just as big a part it.

 

View from the other side

Carrie Fisher expressed an interesting concept in her show the other night. She said that everybody who’s not a celebrity fantasizes about being a celebrity like they’re staring through a bakery window and thinking “Oh if only I could have that – oh to be a celebrity!” While the celebrity is staring back out through that same window fantasizing about having a normal life. Same window, same longing looks staring out from both sides. Only difference is, the celebrity is the loaf of bread.

Not too long ago, from my married lady perch, I would see happy, busy, successful, single women seeming to be enjoying quite nice lives. I knew I wasn’t and would never be one of them. They all seemed so confident and independent. Had real girlfriends they would call up and go out with. Busy social lives with close one-on-one friends, as opposed to “couples”/friends, where both sides of both couples had to be compatible in order to do things socially.

As a brand new single, I’m suddenly starting to feel this real benevolent “pull” – like “Come on over to the other side!” All these single women are beginning to enter my sphere and they’re great and I’m like “Yeah!”

I have a birthday coming up and women I barely know have been extending invitations to take me out for my birthday.

It appears there is truly life on the other side of the window. Married was good. I think single’s going to be good too.

 

Sideline wives

Old energy

I was one of those smiley sideline wives, where you sit there and smile at everyone else’s accomplishments. Usually it’s at a table with other wives looking up adoringly at our husbands. I don’t know if we’re still out there as much among the ranks of young women today, but that was definitely a thing of my generation that I fell into. And I played the part well.

Last night my ex was playing with a band for a benefit concert with a singer, who’s a local celebrity. She invited me to come out to the gig with my ex and do a few songs, so I did. I’ve sung behind her before, but she’s never hired me as a back-up. I’ve been there more of as the wife of someone in her band who happens to be at the gig anyway.

For the 3 hours I wasn’t on stage, I milled around through the crowd of people I didn’t know, pretending to belong and care for the cause. When she called me up on stage, there wasn’t time to set up my gear - so I ended playing up on my ex’s gear, with none of the monitors set for me (couldn’t hear my vocals) and weird pedal settings that at least 3 times I thought I was going for the sustain and then all of the sound would disappear. And because I was using his keyboards, he was wasn’t able to be on stage the same time as me, which was too bad because he was the only musician up there who did know my material.

The guitar player got about 50% of the chords right. And the other 50% of the time it was probably ok because I had temporarily cut off most of the sound with one of the mystery pedals anyway.

Then somehow I ended up on stage singing backgrounds to “Grapevine,” and trust me, if you know anything about me as an artist, this is one song you surely don’t associate with me. So there I was dancing around up there like a deer in the headlights thinking “What am I doing here?”

I know what I was doing there. Being the one in the picture behind the celebrity that David Letterman points to and says “Who’s that guy?” I’ve done it for years and it’s got to stop.

I don’t know how big my own world really is, or can be. But I will discover that now. And whatever it is, it’s got to be better than being a barnacle on somebody’s else’s.

 

The end is the beginning

The divorce papers arrived in the mail today.

My ex was pretty upset, but it wasn’t quite as dramatic for me. We’ve been going down this path for 2 years and I’ve used up all my tears.

It was a little hard taking the wedding rings off. We could’ve prolonged it – waited till a later date and then done something ceremonious. But I said I think this is like a band-aid, where you can either rip the whole thing off quickly and be done with it, or keep it slow and painful and then have to go through this again.

So we both took ours off and put them upstairs in safe little boxes.

I said “look at the bright side. They’re solid gold and yours is probably worth a lot.”

His ring is a lot bigger than mine. When we bought them 30 years ago, his cost 5 times as much as my more petite, delicate one.

Fortunately we both had plans at night we had to get ready for. He had a gig and I was meeting EJ.

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I’m doing a one-woman show this summer at a theater downtown and EJ is one of the most incredible people I know, and my director. We worked together about 8 years ago, and just started working together again last week, at which time I ran down my new show for her.

Some of the things I was doing were good, and some of what I was doing just cracked her up, but not in a good way. When she imitated me, I cracked up too.

Anyway, Carrie Fisher was doing a one-woman show here this weekend and EJ said we ought to go see that, so we made plans for last night.

————

First we went to this amazing little Italian restaurant. I’m usually a lo-carb kind of gal, but they had a potato-topped pizza there. It sounded really good and it was.

Then we went to the show. It was entertaining, although not what either of us had expected, and a few more lessons in what not to do.

Afterwards we went out for dessert to a restaurant owned by a friend EJ’s. We sat down in a bar area with the owners and one of their friends, a handsome cardiologist from out of town. He had a carafe of really good wine and poured us all a glass.

We toasted my divorce and spent the rest of the evening chatting, laughing, drinking great wine and eating hand-made mulberry ice cream (the chef had picked the mulberrys that morning) and coconut macadamia wafers.

 

There is no fighting about to begin

It’s a sad commentary on society and trust and relationships when people feel they can’t be respectful and reasonable to each other without legal documents in place.

We signed our final papers in the mediator’s office last week. There are still some loose ends that need to be cleared up, but our decision is to move forward anyway and work everything out over the next few months. In regards to those loose ends, the mediator advised: “well….. I suppose that’s alright,…. but I wouldn’t recommend doing it that way…. in case you two start fighting….”

Then today I called our auto insurance company to separate our family policy into two separate ones. I asked if we should/could consider staying together on the family plan. She said “well… I suppose that’s alright,… but I wouldn’t recommend doing it that way… in case you two start fighting…”

Everyone assumes that because we’re getting a divorce, that we’re these little time bombs just waiting to go off on each other and make each other’s lives a living hell.

We’re not. We’re two relatively reasonable human beings trying to work through this in the best possible way like the reasonable human beings that we are.

I do not need to be protected from myself, my decisions, or the friends I choose (in this case – my ex). So unless it’s a specific legal issues (like you legally just can’t do something), or unless I ask, I’d appreciate all the well-meaning people that I hire, who barely know me, to keep their opinions and assumptions to themselves.

 

Off the market Yay!

If you ever want to get unbelievably popular, list your house and then take it off the market. My phone has been ringing off the hook since we unlisted it the other day. The worst was the morning after. It was so bad we had to turn the ringer off.

About half the people that called didn’t leave messages. Then others left these warm, really wonderful sounding messages about how much they can help and why they’re the right realtor for me. Called me by my first name like I was some long lost best friend. I didn’t know any of them.

My ex and I entertained ourselves over breakfast the first day rating the incoming sales pitches on our phone answering machine that came in nonstop, one right after the other, interrupted only by the beep of call-waiting, as two or three people were trying to call in at the same time.

It’s been almost a week now, and today it’s finally tapering down. We only got about 5 calls today and some flyers and cards with handwritten notes stuck in the front door.

I’m glad the house is off the market. I know you’re not supposed to take prospective buyer/realtor comments personally, but I’m so tired of the low-ballers coming in here and always playing the “how-low-can-you-go” game , with their little pin-pricky remarks insinuating I’m slob and have bad taste. (”I can’t pay full price for this house! Look at how they’ve arranged the dining room chairs!”)

And those fire drill days, where you get a phone call and have 20 minutes to turn your house into Better Homes and Gardens.

Now I can finally exhale and sort my laundry on the floor over by the pink wall.

 

What’s the best way to end a marriage?

Divorce feels lighter. It’s like something in the cosmic fabric just clicked and unhinged and it’s all going to be ok.

A good friend of mine is leaving her husband later this week. She’s been planning it for months and hasn’t told him yet. She said he’ll just wake up and she’ll be gone. She thinks it’s best that way. She bought a nonrefundable plane ticket and is moving thousands of miles away and never coming back.

She’s not leaving for a new boyfriend, or family, or a new job - none of the obvious reason. She just feels this is something she has to do and somewhere she has to be.

I was over her house this morning and she was pretty upset, the reality and nearness of the day finally getting to her. I said you know I really think you ought to tell him.

Her husband’s a sweetie. To look at them and their lives, you’d think they were the happiest couple. Gatsyby-esque. Actually, a few years ago I would’ve been even more shocked, but if these past few years have taught me anything, it’s that you never know what goes on behind the closed doors of other peoples’ lives.

My own divorce/separation is certainly one of the more gracefully drawn out ones. We’ve been working on the logistics of it for about a year, and now we’ll be roommates in our house for probably another year.

I’d rather do it the way we’re doing it. But frankly, maybe she’s on to something. Maybe that’s the cleanest. Cut. Run. Start over. I dunno. I just really hope she tells her husband.

 

A great quote

The Fresh Start Mentoring newsletter yesterday contained the following quote as a favorite of one of the mentees.  I love it too & thought I’d pass it along:

“Never allow someone to be your priority, while allowing yourself to be their option.” - Unknown.

 

I got it at Ross

Holy cow what a day!

AC and I spent 3 hours at Ross and my closet runneth over. I’ve never shopped so well in my life. Great stuff. And everything there was like $6.00. Or $7.50. The only thing more than that was a Jones New York white linen jacket that I splurged for - $35.00.

AC had come mostly to help me out. But she ended up buying 3 evening gowns for herself for under $20. Total. For all three.

My original intention had been to take her out for coffee afterwards. But then it all seemed so extravagant, the thought of spending $6.00 just for a couple of lattes, when we could get another evening gown for that price.

I spent the rest of the day organizing my closet and putting together all my new outfits.

Did I mention I wore my hair differently today too? I started playing with it after I got back from the the mediator’s office after the signing divorce papers.  Before I went out to meet AC, I put it up with a bunch of combs. It looked really good.

 

Need new clothes

Clothes have gotten ridiculously hard. I feel like such a frump because nothing looks right anymore. Even my “cute” stuff. I know I’m so in between so many things right now, and it’s broadcasting all over me.

I was over AC’s house the other day. We were talking about where we wanted to be, where we could see ourselves, and AC said she could see her whole life plan spread out before her. She does visualizations every day and said that everything she has ever wanted for herself has come true. She said I need to start doing that. Couldn’t agree more.

AC is pretty psychic. She even does readings and things. I’m not one to go to psychics, and AC knows that, but this time I couldn’t resist asking: “How do you see my hair?”

She said: “You’re going to be wearing it longer. Although you look really cute in a short bob too.”

Then AC said she had been in the process of cleaning out her closets. As good fortune would have it, she’s recently gained some weight, and I’m the size she left behind!

AC has amazing (& expensive) taste. She was the owner of my favorite boutique (closed it a month ago though).  So she starts going through her closets and handing me piece after piece to try on and every piece was a Wow.

I still need some belts, new jeans and maybe a white jacket.

Tomorrow afternoon we’re going to go shopping.   After I sign my divorce papers.