Divorce, once rare and stigmatised, has become mainstream – 42 per cent of marriages now end this way, meaning nearly half of us who get married can expect to experience it in our lifetime. Just as every marriage is different, so is every divorce. In this column, divorcees reflect on their life-changing experience. Helped by the benefit of hindsight, they’ll share advice and reflections.
My ex-husband and I met through work: we were both doctors in an emergency department. We worked long hours in an incredibly stressful environment, and the opportunity to meet anyone outside of that world is very limited.
I was 28 at the time, and he was 39 – 11 years older than me. In hindsight, I was definitely on the rebound when I met him. I’d been in a long-term relationship with my university boyfriend. I had fully expected we’d get married and start a family together. So, when he announced out the blue one day that he wasn’t up for that anymore, I was shellshocked.
I felt adrift, and then along came this older guy who was in the same head space as me. He had a child from a previous relationship (though had never married), so I thought I knew he was good father material. We jumped straight into a serious, committed relationship. We moved in together after three months, and got engaged within nine months – I think we were both very much in love with the idea of settling down, more than we were with each other.
We had a long engagement, and it was over that couple of years I slowly came to the realisation that he was an alcoholic. He was in complete denial about it. In a way, I was too. I’ve always been an over-achiever, and felt like this was something I just had to fix. I should have taken the chance to walk away, but a combination of societal expectations, family pressures and my own insecurities made me feel too ashamed to do it. I didn’t tell anyone about his drinking or my doubts around the relationship.
Coming from an Asian immigrant background, my family was very much against divorce. Anyone who was divorced was regarded with pity and shame, and with this, I worried being in my thirties meant it was too late to start over again. I was so desperate to have a family, I was willing to ignore the problems.
I convinced myself into believing that things weren’t so bad. He was a high-functioning alcoholic, and never mixed drinking with his work. We’d have stretches of time when he’d be fine, and wouldn’t touch a drink for weeks. He could be a great partner and a wonderful father.
A couple of years into our marriage, we welcomed our first child, and this initially improved things – he promised me he wouldn’t carry on drinking once the baby arrived. We had our second child two years later, but it was clear he hadn’t changed at all.
There were some awful incidents – he split his head open once on a work night out, and ended up discharging himself from hospital as it was his workplace. When he got home, I had to suture his head myself.
There was an incident where he strangled me, and I went to his parents for help – only to have it brushed off and minimised. In the end, I was on tenterhooks all the time; I never knew where he was or what kind of state he’d be in when he got home.
Seven years into our marriage, I went to a conference for work on domestic abuse. It hit me that I was in an abusive relationship. I confided in a colleague about it, and she pointed out to me that he was, in fact, making a choice to behave in certain ways. He controlled his drinking when he needed to work, but chose not to around me. I finally realised that none of it was my fault.
The final straw was when he went on a three day bender at a music festival and I was unable to contact him. He’d gone alone, so I had no idea if he was alive, or lying somewhere in a ditch. When he eventually returned home, I was livid. We had a tussle over a bottle of vodka, and I managed to pour it all away. He exploded, smashed the bottle and threatened me with it.
I was terrified, and called the police. He was arrested and taken into custody. I still didn’t end the marriage – I still felt so much shame, especially around the abuse. He was the one who suggested we have a trial separation.
The children were five and three when we split up. Once we’d separated and had some space from the situation, I quickly became so, so angry. I remember completing the divorce form and writing down all the incidents that had occurred over the years, and his response was that I’d been a bit harsh on him – he still took no accountability for his behaviour.
We settled everything out of court, and we share custody of the children 50/50. I found this really tough in the beginning; I was constantly anxious that he was going to do something stupid or neglectful due to his drinking, and I tried to involve social services, but honestly, they didn’t seem to care. It was as though we weren’t troubled enough to meet their threshold.
Now that the children are a little older and can advocate for themselves I find it easier to let them see him, but it’s still difficult. My eldest doesn’t trust him as he’s let them down so many times. Both of the kids have considered cutting contact with him, but are too mindful of his feelings to follow through. He is still drinking. While things are mostly fine between us now, he has had some significant alcohol-related health problems. He has a new partner, and to be honest, I’m just happy that there’s someone responsible in my children’s lives.
I was so guilty and worried about what this would do to our children, but they have been fine. I was pretty much already solo parenting most of the time anyway, so it wasn’t a hugely difficult transition when he was no longer at home. Ironically, the kids were completely fine, and didn’t really bat an eyelid about the divorce.
Surprisingly, my parents were also incredibly supportive – especially my mum, who was clearly relieved that the relationship was over. I think she recognised herself in me: my parents probably should have split up, but the stigma and shame was too much for them, in their generation, and she had no financial independence.
I’ve since remarried and had another child with my new husband and our marriage is so different. I’ve learned how to communicate my wants and needs to another person for the first time, and I’m so much better at being open and honest now.
Having been through it, and coming out the other side, I’m now in a place where I can confidently say to my friends who are going through the divorce process that they will be fine – it’s the best thing I’ve ever done.