UA-108708875-1 A Sifted Life: March 2015

Saturday, March 28, 2015

So There's This Article...



and I can't stay quiet...

There’s an article making its way around social media entitled “16 Ways Children of Divorce Love Differently.”  You can see the article by clicking on the title, but I've included her statements below before I put my responses.  The author, an admitted child of divorce, states the things she has learned and applied to her adult life after living through her parents’ divorce.  While she has the right to voice her opinions and personal experiences, she presents the list as if it's all-inclusive and factual for every child of divorce.  She lists hurts based on emotions and hopes based on those same emotions.  She uses childhood memories to make adult comparisons. Perhaps she was a different age than I was at the time her parents divorced, but her blanket statements aren't helpful.  Perhaps she experienced things with her parents' divorce that I didn't during mine, but that doesn't make her universal statements accurate.  And while her inaccuracy is evident to me, I keep seeing her article shared so I have to conclude that her inaccuracy is not evident to everyone else.  Again, she has a right to express her personal opinions; but not as comprehensive facts.  So as a child of divorce AND a divorced adult, I’d like to offer my own opinion and personal experience about what divorce did to me as a child AND to me as an adult who has had to parent children of divorce.  


The author, Maya Kachroo-Levine:  1. We love cautiously. We’ve seen heartbreak and not just in our own lives. We take commitments seriously, which is why we don’t make them often.

                Lori, the child of divorce:  1. I loved carelessly.  The aftermath of the divorce left me feeling unloved and unlovable.  At 19, I clung to the first guy who came along because I thought if I passed him up, no one else would want me and I might miss my only chance at love.  So I settled.

                Lori, the ex-wife and mother:  1. I loved carefully.  I learned that I had value outside of a man’s attention.  I got to know who I was as a woman and what I wanted in life.  And then I looked for someone who wanted me and wanted the life I was headed toward.  No more settling.


MKL 2. We believe in big love because we know it was at the root of our parents’ marriage, before it imploded. We believe in run-away-together kind of love stories, because we heard those stories first hand.

                Lori, the child of divorce:  2. I believed in big love because I saw it in other places.  Movies, music, and books assured me that big love existed.  So I looked for it in the marriages of my friends’ parents.  And I found it.   I just didn’t know how they’d obtained it.

                Lori, the ex-wife and mother:  2. I believed that lasting love was more important than big love.  Movies, music, and books sold big love - a product that made real love unrecognizable.  Big love was hard to maintain and had too many unrealistic expectations.  I wanted real love.


MKL 3. But we’re also pretty sure big love ends in shambles. We’ve never seen otherwise. Whenever we’ve seen passion and fire, we’ve also seen the wreckage it leaves behind.

                Lori, the child of divorce:  3. If love only came in “go big or go home” options, marriage wasn’t for me.  Big love was often punctuated with loud voices, passionate arguments, and melodramatic making up.  Big love looked a lot like the road to divorce.

                Lori, the ex-wife and mother:  3. Big love expectations diminished the value of little, intimate moments of love.  There could be passion and fire without the wreckage.  There could be soft voices and tender touches without first having a fight.  And those little moments added up to some really big love moments.


MKL 4. We optimistically believe that no love ever dies. We were told that “deep down” our parents still loved each other, even as one of them was moving out of the house. We wanted to believe that would always be true. That’s why when we break up with someone, whether it’s a significant other or a friend, we still believe a connection exists after the relationship ends.

                Lori, the child of divorce:  4. Sometimes the best thing a parent can do for the children is to get a divorce.  I knew my parents loved each other at one time, but that time was over.  And if it was over, then the best thing they did for me was to stop the cycle and move on.  I never optimistically believed they would someday get back together. And I didn't want them to.

                Lori, the ex-wife and mother:  4. Sometimes the best thing a parent can do for the children is to reassure them that it wasn’t their fault and they’ll always be loved.  My children never asked if we were getting back together.  They knew we weren’t.  I did not create optimism nor did they express it.  I created a secure, safe environment that allowed them to know things were now going to be better.


MKL 5. We take care of you. It doesn’t matter if we don’t know you, or we aren’t interested. It doesn’t matter if you’ve broken our heart in the past. We know what it’s like to take care of our parents even after they’ve taken their problems out on us and it translates to our daily life.

                Lori, the child of divorce:  5. I didn’t know how to take care of myself.  I was the audience of many adult performances.  If they couldn’t help themselves, they couldn’t help me.  And if I couldn’t help myself, I was of no use to anyone else.  

                Lori, the ex-wife and mother:  5. It’s not my job to take care of anyone else outside of my children, but I can be a great friend to those going through their own situation.  I’m not going to open up to everyone.  I’m not going to allow everyone to open up to me.  There is a level of protection that is now in place.  But my ability to finish a friend’s sentences or understand without her telling me is a gift I’ve had forced upon me.


MKL 6. Things like emotional stability pique our interest. It’s something we’ve never seen in a relationship, and we want it. We find people who come from good marriages or “normal families” fascinating, and hope this means they know more about functional relationships than we do.

                Lori, the child of divorce:  6. Things like emotional stability piqued my interest.  Watching other families get it right gave me hope.  I spent more time at friends’ homes than my own because I wanted to soak in their normalcy.  Even their frustrations were intriguing because they didn’t lead to fights.  I was studying the arts of communication, forgiveness, compromise, negotiations, love, acceptance, accountability, and friendship.

                Lori, the ex-wife and mother:  6. Things like emotional stability made me ask more questions.  I started to recognize normalcy, but I wanted to know how it was acquired.  How did a couple make things work after a few years?  How did they handle conflict?  How did they humble themselves and be vulnerable enough to let the other person really know and love them?


MKL 7. Love means questioning everything. We ask why over and over, even if we already know the answer. We need to reaffirm your love sometimes, just to make sure it’s still there. We need to make sure you have no ulterior motives, which we learned from our parents’ post-divorce paranoia.

                Lori, the child of divorce:  7. Insecurity meant questioning everything.  After the divorce, I was convinced that I was too much of something or too little of something to be of any value.  This led me to hide within myself and disappear as much as possible.  It also made me crave to be seen and known and loved.  The combination of insecure desire made me ill-equipped for marriage.

                Lori, the ex-wife and mother:  7. Loving yourself means questioning everything.  The one thing divorce teaches you is the right questions to ask.  You question your motives for dating – am I lonely?  Do I need affirmation?  Am I ready?  You question what you’re looking for – a good time?  A baby daddy?  A companion?  You no longer care about the kind of car he drives, but whether or not he can keep a job.  You don’t ask about his favorite sports team or food to get to know him; you ask about his family, his upbringing, his goals, his temperament, his thoughts on children, religion, and money.  You ask the questions that matter before you fall in love because the answers determine the kind of relationship you’re walking into.  You have to love yourself (and your children) enough to ensure you love the right man.


MKL 8. Loving one person for the rest of our life seems terrifying. Not because we want to cheat, just because we are incredibly unsure if two people can stay married forever and actually be happy.

                Lori, the child of divorce:  8. Loving one person for the rest of my life seemed impossible.  I was mad at everyone - my mom, my dad, my sister, my teachers, my friends.  Everyone had either done something to hurt me or couldn’t identify with how I felt.  There was no love.  That was the terrifying part.

                Lori, the ex-wife and mother:  8. Loving one person for the rest of my life was the goal.  I’d had one failed marriage.  When I was finally ready to put myself out there, to allow people to get to know me, I wasn’t looking for a good time.  I knew who I was, I knew what I wanted, and I was ready to get it right.  Loving one person for the rest of my life – and being loved in return – sounded like the greatest thing in the world.


MKL 9. Our separation anxiety shows in the way we love. We hold on to people, to memories, to anything we can grasp at. Even if we were never abandoned, we have a huge fear of abandonment which stuck with us from the irrational fears we had growing up.

                Lori, the child of divorce:  9. Not having my own space gave me anxiety.  After being in a home with arguments, broken promises, rejected affections, and sitting in a family room where no one would speak to one another, I was thankful for the alone time that came with the divorce.  I wanted to escape to my room, to process my thoughts without the fear of being a part of the drama.

                Lori, the ex-wife and mother:  9. The anxiety I felt in the marriage was relieved with the separation and divorce.  Although fears of abandonment came up years after my parents’ divorce, I wasn’t concerned with that as much as I was afraid of being unloved.  As my marriage dissolved due to his choices, I realized that being unloved wasn’t the worst thing that could happen.  There was a peace that came with my divorce.


MKL 10. We will love you for loving us in our worst moments. We sought comfort as children and not much has changed.

                Lori, the child of divorce:  10.  I will not believe you when you say you love me.  This carried over into my adult years.  Some days it still tries to haunt me.

                Lori, the ex-wife and mother:  10. If I want to be loved during my worst moments, I have to love others during their worst moments too.  It both breaks my heart and brings my heart to bursting when I look back on the times I have been treated with such love and kindness after I have been ugly.  That is surely true love.


MKL 11. We believe love will drive you to do crazy things because we’ve seen it first hand. We understand love can send you to great heights, even if it turns sour. It will drive us to follow you across the country if you ask, but will also make us pick the biggest fight you’ve ever been in.

                 Lori, the child of divorce:  11. I believed love drove you crazy.  Watching the pain my parents were in created a dilemma:  if they loved each other, why are they acting like they hate each other/but if they hate each other, why does it matter what the other person did?  Then as they tried to love me, they drove me crazy.  I wanted none of it.

                 Lori, the ex-wife and mother:  11. Love will stir me up to do crazy things, and fun things, and stupid things, and the best things.  Love, real love, inspired me to move to a new state with a man I’d known for only 10 weeks and marry him 8 weeks after that. He also came with five of his own children (making our brood a whooping 7).  We just started our 11th year of marriage.  Crazy love will lead you down some of the craziest roads.  But they can also be the best roads.


MKL 12. We expect a lot. We come from single mothers who inspired us to get what we need before anything else. We come from a lifetime of watching fights and knowing there was an easier solution. We will demand that you find the easier solution.

                Lori, the child of divorce:  12.  I expected very little.  Life was a disappointment for many years.  I had no goals and it didn’t matter because I had no cheerleaders.  I had no reason to set the bar high so I didn’t.  That contributed to my first marriage.

                Lori, the ex-wife and mother:  12. I expect a lot.  Of myself.  I had to learn to forgive my parents for things they’d done, but mostly for things I laid at their feet.  I had to learn to take accountability for my own choices and my own feelings of inadequacy.  I had to set an example for my children so they didn’t inherit the insecurities and pain from their parents’ divorce that I felt I’d inherited from my parents’ divorce.  I expect a lot of my marriage.  Like communication, and respect, and forgiveness, and authenticity, and friendship.  I expect it because those things are required if this second marriage is going to succeed.


MKL 13. We find problems after the first date. We’re trained to see the failures before the successes.

                Lori, the child of divorce:  13.  I overlooked problems on first dates.  I was too caught up in my own failures to see the failures of anyone else.  Things that should have been red flags were ignored – why would I judge him when I’m so afraid of being judged myself? Again, this contributed to my failed marriage.

                Lori, the ex-wife and mother:  13. I didn’t look for problems, but when a deal breaker came up, I was done.  I learned to get to the big stuff, the stuff that mattered (see #7).  But I also knew that I couldn’t change a person.  I had a list of things I was willing to compromise and a list of things I wouldn’t compromise.  You can believe, I didn’t settle this time (see #1).


MKL 14. We are generally difficult people to love. We are unsure of what love to accept. We don’t know what’s too much. Honestly, we think most love is too much.

                Lori, the child of divorce:  14. I felt I was a difficult person to love.  On one hand, I thought I was unlovable because of my home dynamics/dysfunction.  On the other hand, my internal struggle made me very silent, very moody, and very unpleasant to be around.

                Lori, the ex-wife and mother:  14. I have my bad days, but I am not difficult to like.  I have determined to remake myself into someone likeable.  I am intentional about my friendships, my compassion, my humor, my conversation.  I do not want to be difficult to know or difficult to be around.  I do not want to be smothered, but I certainly do not want to separate myself from others.


MKL 15. We forgive easily. If you stomp on our hearts, we’ll still take your call. There was always a time when we thought our parents would forgive each other and so we assume more lenience is necessary.

                Lori, the child of divorce:  15. I forgave easily, but I didn’t trust anyone close to me.  I knew the value of forgiveness, but I didn’t understand that it was a process.  I was still left with anger and feelings of being let down.  Despite wanting to have a healed heart, it didn’t happen for years.

                Lori, the ex-wife and mother:  15.  I forgive easily, but I don’t forget.  I no longer hold the anger and hurt too long.  I analyze it and play it over and over…and then I let it go.  But I remember what’s been said and done.  Until a person can take accountability for their part and seek reconciliation, I am on guard.  I may love them; I may forgive them; but I maintain a level of protection from further damage.


MKL 16. No matter how soon we feel love, we won’t say it. We are never the first to say, “I love you.” We don’t ever want to feel that vulnerable.

                Lori, the child of divorce:  16. I thought “I love you” was used too often and too loosely.  It had no depth or value to me because it had been tarnished in being used during moments that really had nothing to do with love, but more with expectation.

                Lori, the ex-wife and mother:  16. I say “I love you” as often as I can to the ones who need to hear it.  I am still learning what real love is, but I don’t withhold it.  Saying “I love you” means something to me.  They aren’t just words – they’re affirmations from me to someone else.  They are syllables meant to lift up and encourage.  They are a promise meant for special moments and everyday moments.  They are a gift to those who know me best and a blessing to those who least expect it.  I have no problem saying it first; because if I say it first, then you really know I mean it.


Added just from my personal experience:

Reasons for divorce:

                Lori, the child of divorce:  One parent is always more wrong than the other one.  I heard a lot, but I also saw a lot.  "Actions speak louder than words" was constantly going through my mind.

                Lori, the ex-wife and mother:  One parent might do more wrong, but both people made mistakes that led to the divorce.  I can look back now and see where I failed as a wife.  I can look at my second marriage and see where I am a much better spouse this time than I was the first time.  I have to forgive myself for that.  And let that be a part of forgiving my ex.


The perspective of a child:

                Lori, the child of divorce:  It's easy to take a side because you know what's happening.  Sometimes you switch from being loyal to mom to being loyal to dad.  But you see and hear what the one is doing and saying to the other and you know what's right and wrong.

                Lori, the ex-wife and mother:  You had no idea what was going on.  Many times, memories stay with us.  But our memories don't age with us; they stay stuck in our minds at the age in which they happened to us, along with the emotions that came with that experience.  Not everything is as it seemed. It's only later, as we mature and have our own life experiences that we can reevaluate those memories with greater knowledge.  The memory of a moment may have had many levels to it and missing information.  The loyalty that came so easily years ago may need to be adjusted.  There isn't always a "good" parent and a "bad" parent.  Sometimes there's just a bad marriage.  As an adult, it's necessary to examine childhood memories with new insight and maturity so that I can accept that my parents are human and they were doing the best they could, given the situation. 

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Feeling Less Than

Certainly Not Equal To

I've been quiet lately.  There's been some stuff going on.  Not relationship/crisis/illness stuff.  Personal, introspective, emotional stuff.  Self-worth and value stuff.  Feeling less than stuff.

Can anyone relate?

I'm usually a very optimistic person.  I find the silver lining. I look for the good.  I'm also a realist, but I want to be encouraging even during the bad and ugly times.  But when the bad or ugly finds its way into my own heart, staying positive becomes a challenge.  It's not something I like admitting, much less revealing to others, but in the hope that someone else will find solace, I'm putting it out here.

So let's get real.  Real ugly, but real.

In no particular order, this is where I'm at:

             *My weight is up.  I was down 32lbs two years ago.  Six months of moving issues and all that entails and I gained some of it back.  I lost 16 of it again last year, but the gym failed to uphold their end of the contract and long story short, I left.  Add to this the other things on the list and I'm back where I started two years ago.  It's disgusting.

             *I am a failure at being a household engineer.  My strengths do no lie in cleaning.  I can do it, I'm just not motivated.  My house is usually good enough that someone could come to the door. But not right now.  Now we'd have to scramble to get the place acceptable enough to answer.  And while I can cook/bake, I don't enjoy it.  Because my husband works an odd shift, I've been able to use that as an excuse not to make dinner.  Fortunately my daughter enjoys cooking.  Otherwise, it's just night after night of "get it yourself."  It's horrible of me.

             *This seems a good point to admit that I'm a loser at the parenting thing.  My girls are teenagers so they don't require me to meet every need they have.  They can bathe themselves and feed themselves (as I've established) and entertain themselves.  They don't want me around all the time and that's normal.  But I've let that slip into an easy routine of "they don't need me."  Mentally I know that there's a difference between wanting me and needing me, but I'm not doing anything to engage them.  It's inexcusable.

             *On top of being extremely lazy in every area of life, I'm lonely.  It would be one thing to say that I'm ignoring my other responsibilities because I'm too busy being social (whether it's doing good or bad).  However, I'm not even able to say that.  I have my errands and my appointments (I do buy the groceries I don't cook and get us to the doctor when necessary); but most of my days are spent wishing I had a social life.  I do get together one day a week with a group of ladies from church for a study.  And I have lunch with a friend every few months.  And I've got a dinner with a group of friends that I go to every 8-12 weeks.  So that's something.  But on a daily basis, I'm just lonely.  It's beyond boredom.  It's the desire to reach others, do good, feel heard and understood the same way I'm trying to hear and understand.  It's the true intimacy you gain by being real and vulnerable with others.  That's missing.  And it's painful.

             *To add insult to injury, I'm pathetic at long distance.  I've let my family and friends fall to the side.  I'm here complaining about being lonely, but I make little to no effort to keep in touch with those in my life who already matter.  Text allows for a good cover up - send a few lines and it looks like I'm keeping in touch.  But a true, heartfelt connection?  I've let the distance in miles create a distance in the heart.  I didn't mean to.  It just sort of happened.  But how can I complain about being lonely when I have a support system already built in that I'm ignoring?  It's heartbreaking.

             *The culmination of all these things - things that bother me individually, but some days two or more will weight heavy on me - leads me to a feeling of utter worthlessness.  I get the internal dialogue going with perfect accusations of "You're ugly, you have no purpose, you have nothing to offer your family or anyone else."  And while some days I can silence the voice and see the lies for what they are, there are other days when they sound so much like the truth that I can't find a way to believe anything else about myself.  And it's scary.

So that's where I've been lately.  Is there anyone who can identify with me?  I feel alone in this, but I'm surely not.

During a tough day several weeks ago, I cried and cried and cried.  I cried out to the Lord to show me what it feels like to be loved because I was just not feeling it.  Not from anyone else and certainly not from myself.  I needed Him to step in and say something that would show me some love. 

And you know what happened?  He did!

As I lay in my bed, crying the ugly cry (but silently because I didn't want my husband to know how hurt and damaged I was feeling), I longed for my God to come close.  I asked Him to love me.  And in my heart, I heard Him say, "I have loved you with an everlasting love."  Just like that.  That one sentence.  And do you know it changed my heart in an instant!  To be reminded that I've been loved throughout all time, all creation; before I existed and after I'm gone, I've been loved.  I was suddenly crying with relief and love and gratitude.  That my Father in Heaven would hear me and care enough to show me He loves me in that moment was so powerful.  I was able to fall asleep and find rest after that.

Unfortunately, I found myself in a much worse state of mind this past weekend.  Feelings of unworthiness were compounded by my perceived failures as a human being.  I couldn't think of one thing of value that I had to offer or contribute to anyone that someone else couldn't also offer.  Anyone else could fill my shoes and they would certainly do it better than I ever could or would.  I was deep into self-pity and pretty close to self-loathing.  I was a mess. 

I talked to no one about my feelings.  I felt that they either wouldn't understand or wouldn't care.  So I just stayed to myself and cried.  It was the ugly cry again, but it was somehow worse because my prayers didn't come quite so easily.  I did pray, but they were short and to the point:  God, help me!  Over and over, GOD, HELP ME!

I couldn't help myself out of my stupor and I knew it.  And it was miserable.

Later in the day, my husband was able to talk to me about a few things.  And while those things were not the terribly troubling things on my heart, his conversation and his love were a balm to my soul.  I accepted what I could and tried to believe the truth of his words and love.

But I did have a breakthrough. 

It came late Sunday afternoon.  I was cleaning up around the house (shocking, I know, after I admitted how horrible I am at it) and I heard a phrase from the TV:  "who is against you."  It was just a line from a character on some movie, but it struck me:  Who is against me?  The enemy, the devil, Satan himself is against me!  He comes to steal, kill, and destroy!  He steals my optimism, he kills my joy, he destroys my self-esteem.  And he's not satisfied until he has me defeated, crying the ugly cry, not believing anything good about myself.  I realized right then that he'd been coming at me for a while.

But the neat part, the God part, was what came next.  My heart asked me "who is for me?" 

Anyone???

"If God is for us, who can be against us?"  
Romans 8:31

Suddenly there were burdens being lifted from my heart!  I could hear Him telling me, "If I am for you, who can be against you?  No one!  Not the devil, not your neighbor, not even yourself.  You cannot be against yourself, for I AM FOR YOU."

Oh my great and glorious Father!  What a wonderful, healing, loving reminder to my hurt heart.  When my mind had created in me the belief that I am of no value, no worth, my Creator Father came close to gently and loudly tell my heart that I have great value and great worth because HE SAYS SO. 

Too many times we find ourselves caught in this cycle of repeat - I failed at that, I have no worth, why try again, I failed again, why try, I have no worth.  And while we are listening to the reel play over and over, we miss or ignore anyone in our lives who are telling us anything else.  We are somehow convinced that no one is on our side, no one understands, and no one cares.  But God is in the background, longing to be called over long enough for us to hear Him say, "I am for you!  I'm on your side!  You are the greatest thing in My creation!"  If only we would call Him over sooner so our hearts could be touched.

I'm not totally free from my heartaches.  I am still praying for bonds to be broken as I want to live free from the chains of these lies.  I know there are things I can and must do for myself to change my circumstances.  But the Lord is so faithful to stay close to me and remind me that I am worth making those changes for.  I am valuable enough to invest the time and energy into myself to see those changes take place.  

My progress will not be overnight, but I will make progress.  I will look at my list and do something toward correcting each one of these things each day.  Some days I will have better success than others, but I will not fail.  

Because my God is for me, even I cannot be against me.








I hope that my raw vulnerability and subsequent moments of God's hope will touch someone who needs it.  If there is a reader out there who is walking this dark, lonesome road, know that you are not alone!  It feels that way, but that's not the truth.  There are those of us who know what it's like to feel like a failure at every little thing.  Your Father says He is for you!  See the enemy in that dark place and know that he is the one encouraging you to stay there.  Cry out to the Lord and He will answer!  Because He is for you, no devil, no enemy, not even yourself can be against you.