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I’m just a girl who can’t say no… to a support group! There’s comfort in a crowd and it’s there for the taking. Not to capitalize on anyone’s misery, but there’s a certain consolation that comes in knowing you’re not alone... and that other people have it way worse than you. When breast feeding caused excruciating pain, when it made me wince and cry, when my nipples looked like beet-red raspberries, I joined a breast feeding support group and left every meeting feeling like maybe I didn’t have it so bad.
When my ex and I went from “It Had To Be You,” to I guess we’re through, I didn’t just join one divorce support group… I joined three! The first was at my church… the same church I’ve attended since I was six years old. We were a band of about five men and five women. At the helm, measuring 4’9” on a good day, stood Sister Pat, a sweet-hearted nun in her 80’s who no doubt spent the duration of the hour-plus meeting thanking God that she listened to His calling. We were a precious bunch of broken hearts, each wanting to vent, to ask why, to be understood, and ultimately, to heal. While I did do a bit of all of those things, I wanted a leader who had walked the walk.
Rob Kaufman’s Divorce Dialogue was a bigger, badder, bolder group. We were the pissed off, the cynical, the cheated on, the bitter, the fooled -- men, women, all ages, all professions, all stories. Admission cost $35, plus an appetizer or dessert. In return, we got to spew. Each week was a potluck potpourri and we never knew what would be brought to the table, literally or figuratively. I listened, I learned, I shared, and I grew to accept that my once perfect pathway had irreparably cracked and would wind in ways I never dreamed imaginable.
The third group, Divorce Detox, was more of a class, an 8-week course covered by my health insurance, complete with a text book and homework assignments. Six to eight of us would gather in a Shabby Chic-esque, comfy white-couched office. We listened to the leaders’ stories, and absorbed their advice on how to pull out of the muck. For me, it was a respite. It was a time where I was on lockdown, forced to deal with my myriad of emotions, forced to get over it, stop stewing, invent a game plan, and start singing a new tune.
Each group worked. I left every meeting standing a little taller, feeling a little more hopeful, and knowing that I wasn’t alone. Even during times when I felt like I was floating down the “river of despair,” I knew I was squished in a really big boat with a lot of people doing the exact same thing… and the best part was, we were all still afloat!
Happiest Holidays to all of you who have read I Guess We’re Through since we launched it last month. I’m blown away by the support, the sweet comments, the private, heartfelt messages, and the Facebook “likes” and “shares.”
This new venture, a collaboration with my fellow Fashion Police colleage, Raquel Kelley, moved from the back burner to the front after we lost our fearless, fierce, off-the-charts funny, huge-hearted leader, Joan Rivers. Being abruptly unemployed allowed me the time to make this blog happen. It’s the window that opened after the door sadly closed.
I firmly believe that there’s always going to be a window. Sometimes you’ll need to chip off the paint to pry it open, but it’ll be there. Joan knew that all too well and as you can see, she’s up there looking over us as we practice what she preached!
So if the “hap-happiest season of all” seems like the “crap-crappiest season of all,” just know that this too shall pass. Hold your head up high, celebrate what you have, and toast to all the love in your life. That’s what I’ll be doing!
Warm wishes from my family and me for a happy, healthy holiday, filled with lots of love!
What a rock I had! It was absolutely gorgeous, shiny, brilliantly bright and larger than life! I was constantly complimented on it and I could tell some people even envied what I had. My rock made me feel good. All I had to do was glance at it and I knew just how much I was loved. Lest anyone think I’m referring to the dazzling sparkler that once adorned my ring finger, I’m not! My rock was my mother.
Every girl (and probably every guy) needs a rock, regardless of how tough you think you are, or how amicable and smooth you think the divorce process will be. Whether it’s a mother, aunt, sister, or friend, find someone to hold you up when you’re about to plummet... and someone who’ll pick you up when you do.
Here’s what a rock does:
- She makes you meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and peas and delivers them to your house in time for dinner so you don’t have to lift a finger.
- She takes your kids for an afternoon or a sleepover so you can have a little break.
- She goes with you to interview attorneys.
- She calms your raw nerves while sitting shotgun as you drive to the courthouse.
- She tells you to meet her at her nail shop and surprises you with a spa pedicure.
- She bellies up to the bar with you to toast your triumphs or drown your sorrows.
My rock did that and so much more. My victories were hers. My defeats cut her to the core. Divorce hurts, but your rock helps you heal. Mine certainly did.
Today is my mother’s birthday. Under normal circumstances, we’d be eating popovers with strawberry butter, and drinking Champagne at our favorite department store cafe. But things aren’t normal anymore because she’s not here. My mother passed away in July of 2012, one month after my divorce was finally final. She was strong for me and taught me how to be a fighter. Even though she could be as tough as nails, she was no match for breast cancer. I wouldn’t say it got the best of her, because I got the best of her. I got her time. I got her devotion. I got her strength and I got her love, and not even the cancer could take that away.
My best advice is to find a rock! Take it from someone who doesn’t accept help comfortably, you don’t want to go at this alone! Let someone in. Let someone love you, take care of you, feed you, comfort you, hold you, laugh with you, drink with you, and cry with you. If no one’s knocking on your door, go out and knock on theirs! Find your diamond when times are rough, and when you do you will have the most precious gem of all... just like I did!
Happy Birthday, Mom! I love you more!
