Photo: Julia Marie Werner
It’s been a bit more than two weeks now, since I finally got divorced after about one year and a half. This was the last step of finishing a chapter of my life. I’ve been thinking a lot about what to write in this blog post. I feel like the divorce is putting a new label on me, even though I’m finally free. Even though I’ve been literally waiting every day for this moment, when my marriage is finally officially over. It felt like a huge weight lift from my heart when I came out of the court after those fifteen minutes, during which I had to see my ex for the last time and officially state that this marriage is over and that I definitely don’t pretend to make it work again. But being a divorced woman kind of labels me, even though it does not define me. This is something I will have to accept and surely will, as soon as possible. I’m glad that it’s over and I want to wear this label as proud as I can, because it all changed me in the most positive way.
The only thing is: I wanted to finally say something and had no chance to do so. You must know that our break-up happened without any personal contact. My ex decided to end our relationship taking the easiest way out: leaving me at my parents, driving back home alone without telling me so, hiding somewhere when I came after him, and then simply writing me a message on WhatsApp that it’s over. It was humiliating. I mean, the person I’ve spent 8 years with, decided to treat me so disrespectfully to end a marriage the most inappropriate way – via text message. And not even with an explanation. Back then, I decided to just take it like this and not say anything. But with the time going by, I wrote a letter to him which I actually wanted to give him on the day of our divorce. A letter which, at first, I was hoping he’d read because I had so much to say about the way he broke up with me. A letter which I almost forgot of after some time because it just became irrelevant – there was no need to say anything anymore. Just one last sentence.
But I didn’t say it. There was no chance to say it. So I’m writing it down.
I’m thankful for the past 18 months. Thankful for the chance to rewrite my life, to change myself, to be who I am now and who I’m going to be in the future. I’m not thankful for how I was „disposed“ but thankful for the decision to do it like this because it made everything easier for me. I’m thankful for the chance to understand that a person like this was never worth it to make my happiness and my life dependent of him, and to understand that I’m the only one to make my life the life I want to live. I don’t need someone else to make me happy.
So here it goes: