Divorce freedom
My name is Bethany and I am a divorce freedom evangelist. Initially unsure of myself and my message, I’m now an enthusiastic prophet of how divorce can create joy and optimism in ways I would have never imagined. Initially, divorce was a means to an end—a necessary act to extract myself from an unhappy marriage with a Christian conservative husband who was a deacon by day and a verbal abuser by night. Then, divorce became the means by which my daughters could know the happiest and truest version of me.
Eighteen months beyond that realization, Sincerely, Divorced exists as a local support group, a growing online community dedicated to changing the narrative of divorce and the way people experience it, and to guiding others who are unsure of how to support someone who is navigating the end of a long-term relationship. My point here is that my concept of freedom in divorce has evolved from the initial relief I sought in leaving my husband. Ultimately, I’ve found that freedom in divorce extends far beyond the idea of being unpartnered. Moreso, freedom in divorce embraces the boundless idea of being untamed. Yet this idea that one might find other kinds of freedom beyond leaving one’s partner is an uncommon perspective.
How do I know that this is an uncommon perspective? I recently tested it by donning the t-shirt at the top of this post and venturing into the world to conduct some market research. I walked proudly into a busy coffee shop last Saturday morning wearing a t-shirt emblazoned with the words, “Divorce. Raise a glass to freedom” and then I watched how people responded to me. There were several knowing glances and smiles from women of a certain age, and then there were the sorrowful looks from married couples who hurried past my table while shielding their children from picking up a new vocabulary word. My interpretation was that they were uncomfortable with my celebratory disposition about—in their view—not having a spouse. Little did they know, the shirt spoke to an evolving concept of personal freedom as opposed to the formal transaction of dissolving a marriage. Other coffee shop observers seemed a bit confused by the shirt—as if they were familiar with and appreciated the ‘Hamilton’ reference, but didn’t quite know what to make of the ‘divorce’ hack.
I continued my research later that day at a social event in Baltimore. It was here that among similar responses from earlier in the day, I got a nod, smile, and thumbs up from a woman in her thirties. She was radiant, easygoing, and exuded peace. I had a very unscientific sense that she, like me, knew that the concept of freedom referenced on my shirt was much broader than the freedom of not having a spouse.
Freedom is personal. And when a long-term relationship ends, freedom is as literal as it is figurative. For me, it means:
Freedom from pain.
Freedom from mistreatment.
Freedom to be a fully present parent.
Freedom to express all of my identities.
Freedom to experience boundless joy.
Freedom from feeling worthless.
Freedom from dread about the future.
Freedom to imagine life without the burden of societal expectations.
Freedom is both serious and silly. Because in addition to the earlier points, freedom also means I now get to use both of the sinks in the master bathroom (a small thing, but I love it).
My name is Bethany and I am a divorce freedom evangelist who advocates for freedom in more ways than most people think because they can only see what’s on the surface. They see someone that used to be a wife so it’s logical that divorce freedom means no longer having a husband. But they’re only partially right. Freedom is broad and it is mine to define as I choose.
Freedom is yours too. Freedom to leave a long-term partnership and freedom to let go of the dream of the perfect marriage. Freedom is yours to define in big and boundless ways—unapologetically and on your terms. What freedoms await you? What freedoms are you seeking? Whatever they may be, I encourage you to go beyond the confines of the conclusions others make about who we are after divorce and to raise a glass to freedom—something they can never take away.