Good for you, Emily. A good friend of mine wrote a YA that was eventually published to some acclaim. All the way through, from start to finish, her husband, a successful businessman, pooh-poohed her efforts and put roadblocks in her way every chance he got. At first she was devastated but at some point she began to laugh it off, threatening to dedicate her book to him like this:
"To ________, thank you for not believing in me. I never would have finished this book without having to prove something to you."
She was. She was an absolute delight, a wicked wit. She stayed and nursed him through Alzheimer's until the end, and as he weakened she grew. She was remarkable. She's gone now but I'll never forget her pure grit.
Substitute "husband" with "father" and "book" with "figuring out what was important to me" and I am going to crib this dedication (having already lived it). All respect to your friend, of course. There are 31 flavors of personal motivation and sometimes we can have two scoops.
Happy Book Launch Month, Emily! I separated as my first book was coming out, too. My soon-to-be ex-husband berated me for not dedicating that book to him. He still, to be clear, got a too-kind sentence or two in the actual acknowledgements. But who did I have the audacity to dedicate it to, instead? My brother, who had just died. So, Emily, congratulations, too, on your divorce. And PS: that wasn't my last book, and I suspect this won't be yours either. Onward, to joy!
It took me a long time to figure out that the ex never read anything I wrote. Once I did, I was crushed. Imagine the look on my face when, after he'd been asked to contribute to his company's blog, he asked if I would take a look at his first post.
Toward the very end, during a conversation about something else, I asked if I'd ever told him about a certain part of my life.
"I don't care," he said. Not "I don't remember" or "I don't think so." No. He said, "I don't care." And that's when I started realizing he didn't care about me, my words, my thoughts, my feelings, my anything.
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Congratulations on the book and the divorce! Thanks for sharing here today.
"I don't care" is a brutal response. After I separated from my husband I spent a lot of time in therapy working out why I was so angry even though everything about my life was better. Eventually I landed on - he didn't even care enough to try to stop me leaving. He made no effort to salvage anything once I said out loud that I wanted to leave. I'd agonized for months in therapy whether I should get out and he just... didn't care.
I have a feeling SO MANY WOMEN are going to identify with this essay TOO FREAKING MUCH, OMG. I have given what you (Lyz) said about how we are conditioned to recenter women’s issues around men… it’s honestly breaking my brain a bit. When I was married, and make no mistake I knew who I was marrying, I believed that it was the right thing to do to give up things because the person I married had never had the opportunity to pursue the things that I had - higher education, white collar work, stability in a home life… I put my life on hold for decades so he could experience those things. And he’s grateful, don’t get me wrong. I showed him what a family could look like and that you could, in fact, depend on people. But, it was all at my own expense.
I never felt anything so hard as what Emily wrote about abandoning her book proposal because it “wasn’t worth the domestic drama.” OY. I started school 10+ years ago to become a Marriage and Family Therapist and quit a few classes in because it was taking too much time away from my relationship and there was so. much. drama.
We finally got divorced in 2016, after 13 years. I dabbled with two guys who needed fixing. Too much drama. Then, ex and I got back together in 2018, and he moved back in before the pandemic, and moved back out in March of 2022. I started school again in April of 2021 for a masters in Organizational Leadership. The relationship could not handle me dedicating so much time and energy into something that wasn’t him. (And his not-so-secret “secret” drinking was always an issue) We still see each other, but we’re friends. I kept the house because I love this house, and I made it mine. I will graduate in June with a masters degree. I feel free to pursue what *I* want to pursue. He’ll help. He loves our dog. He visits all the time. We spend time together, but I have to remember that I can’t stop what I’m doing to my own detriment. It’s easy to fall back into old patterns, and I have to be really conscious with that relationship. We’ve both had a LOT of therapy, before, during, after, and currently. There’s a lot of love still there, but I won’t sacrifice myself for his benefit anymore.
“What I couldn’t articulate to him at that moment was that my essays are where I can be the most honest and vulnerable version of myself. I’ve done enough therapy to connect the dots between my upbringing in an invalidating environment and my career as a writer of personal narrative. As a kid, I processed my feelings on the page because it was the only place I felt safe doing so. Nobody shut me down before I finished making my case, told me my feelings were wrong, or shamed me for interjecting a little dark humor to lighten the mood here and there.”
Yes to all of this!! I just had a therapy session yesterday and had a similar discussion with my therapist who had the bright idea of bringing writing into our sessions! I can so much better articulate myself on a page.
I've been participating in a grief writing group for the last few weeks and it has been a lot more helpful that the general grief support group, even though a lot of the same people are participating. The prompts and the writing bring out layers and starting points that are much harder to access otherwise
I totally understand this!! My last therapist had listed in her credentials something about trained in narrative something therapy (? Can’t remember the exact term). Never once did she suggest writing…I talked to her about all of my writing for the two years I saw her… This was maybe my third meeting with my new therapist (who has no claims of any kind of certification in whatever narrative therapy and I’ve only marginally mentioned writing to) and she suggested doing some writing prompts. OMG. After the writing exercises and unpacking we did following, I can actually envision making some kind of therapeutic progress for the first time in my life.
Wow! That's really weird. I haven't been with my therapist very long and I'm not a writer, but even so we did talk about my journaling. The grief writing group is something offered through my city's hospice facility and I just found out about it randomly but it is very helpful
I love this essay from Emily so much! I feel her pain so deeply and I had a similar experience when leaving my marriage. It was that dark night of the soul when I asked myself, and honestly answered, if it was possible for me to feel joy in my marriage. When I realized that my light would forever be dimmed, and my wants, needs, and desires deprioritized as long as I was in relationship, I knew what I had to do. It's not an easy decision but bravo to her for prioritizing her joy, which also happens to be her career!
"I thought about how, since having kids, my attempts to take time and space to write — or even just to be alone in the house to calm my neurodivergent brain — often turned into days-long disputes." Ooof. We didn't have kids, but my late husband and I were both undiagnosed ADHD when we met, and so many of our early struggles centered around the opposite things we needed to do to calm our brains. We mostly figured it out but even so ever so often some new permutation would surface.
Good for you, Emily. A good friend of mine wrote a YA that was eventually published to some acclaim. All the way through, from start to finish, her husband, a successful businessman, pooh-poohed her efforts and put roadblocks in her way every chance he got. At first she was devastated but at some point she began to laugh it off, threatening to dedicate her book to him like this:
"To ________, thank you for not believing in me. I never would have finished this book without having to prove something to you."
Your friend is the PERFECT PERSON
She was. She was an absolute delight, a wicked wit. She stayed and nursed him through Alzheimer's until the end, and as he weakened she grew. She was remarkable. She's gone now but I'll never forget her pure grit.
Substitute "husband" with "father" and "book" with "figuring out what was important to me" and I am going to crib this dedication (having already lived it). All respect to your friend, of course. There are 31 flavors of personal motivation and sometimes we can have two scoops.
I also love this!
Happy Book Launch Month, Emily! I separated as my first book was coming out, too. My soon-to-be ex-husband berated me for not dedicating that book to him. He still, to be clear, got a too-kind sentence or two in the actual acknowledgements. But who did I have the audacity to dedicate it to, instead? My brother, who had just died. So, Emily, congratulations, too, on your divorce. And PS: that wasn't my last book, and I suspect this won't be yours either. Onward, to joy!
In my Belabored acknowledgments I put that I wrote this book IN SPITE OF many many men. I’m so happy you got free
“one of those long, exhausting conversations that’s not quite a fight but not not a fight, either”
well, this is a perfect description.
It took me a long time to figure out that the ex never read anything I wrote. Once I did, I was crushed. Imagine the look on my face when, after he'd been asked to contribute to his company's blog, he asked if I would take a look at his first post.
Toward the very end, during a conversation about something else, I asked if I'd ever told him about a certain part of my life.
"I don't care," he said. Not "I don't remember" or "I don't think so." No. He said, "I don't care." And that's when I started realizing he didn't care about me, my words, my thoughts, my feelings, my anything.
---------------------------------------
Congratulations on the book and the divorce! Thanks for sharing here today.
"I don't care" is a brutal response. After I separated from my husband I spent a lot of time in therapy working out why I was so angry even though everything about my life was better. Eventually I landed on - he didn't even care enough to try to stop me leaving. He made no effort to salvage anything once I said out loud that I wanted to leave. I'd agonized for months in therapy whether I should get out and he just... didn't care.
I have a feeling SO MANY WOMEN are going to identify with this essay TOO FREAKING MUCH, OMG. I have given what you (Lyz) said about how we are conditioned to recenter women’s issues around men… it’s honestly breaking my brain a bit. When I was married, and make no mistake I knew who I was marrying, I believed that it was the right thing to do to give up things because the person I married had never had the opportunity to pursue the things that I had - higher education, white collar work, stability in a home life… I put my life on hold for decades so he could experience those things. And he’s grateful, don’t get me wrong. I showed him what a family could look like and that you could, in fact, depend on people. But, it was all at my own expense.
I never felt anything so hard as what Emily wrote about abandoning her book proposal because it “wasn’t worth the domestic drama.” OY. I started school 10+ years ago to become a Marriage and Family Therapist and quit a few classes in because it was taking too much time away from my relationship and there was so. much. drama.
We finally got divorced in 2016, after 13 years. I dabbled with two guys who needed fixing. Too much drama. Then, ex and I got back together in 2018, and he moved back in before the pandemic, and moved back out in March of 2022. I started school again in April of 2021 for a masters in Organizational Leadership. The relationship could not handle me dedicating so much time and energy into something that wasn’t him. (And his not-so-secret “secret” drinking was always an issue) We still see each other, but we’re friends. I kept the house because I love this house, and I made it mine. I will graduate in June with a masters degree. I feel free to pursue what *I* want to pursue. He’ll help. He loves our dog. He visits all the time. We spend time together, but I have to remember that I can’t stop what I’m doing to my own detriment. It’s easy to fall back into old patterns, and I have to be really conscious with that relationship. We’ve both had a LOT of therapy, before, during, after, and currently. There’s a lot of love still there, but I won’t sacrifice myself for his benefit anymore.
This resonated so hard with me!
This quote!
“What I couldn’t articulate to him at that moment was that my essays are where I can be the most honest and vulnerable version of myself. I’ve done enough therapy to connect the dots between my upbringing in an invalidating environment and my career as a writer of personal narrative. As a kid, I processed my feelings on the page because it was the only place I felt safe doing so. Nobody shut me down before I finished making my case, told me my feelings were wrong, or shamed me for interjecting a little dark humor to lighten the mood here and there.”
Yes to all of this!! I just had a therapy session yesterday and had a similar discussion with my therapist who had the bright idea of bringing writing into our sessions! I can so much better articulate myself on a page.
I've been participating in a grief writing group for the last few weeks and it has been a lot more helpful that the general grief support group, even though a lot of the same people are participating. The prompts and the writing bring out layers and starting points that are much harder to access otherwise
I totally understand this!! My last therapist had listed in her credentials something about trained in narrative something therapy (? Can’t remember the exact term). Never once did she suggest writing…I talked to her about all of my writing for the two years I saw her… This was maybe my third meeting with my new therapist (who has no claims of any kind of certification in whatever narrative therapy and I’ve only marginally mentioned writing to) and she suggested doing some writing prompts. OMG. After the writing exercises and unpacking we did following, I can actually envision making some kind of therapeutic progress for the first time in my life.
Wow! That's really weird. I haven't been with my therapist very long and I'm not a writer, but even so we did talk about my journaling. The grief writing group is something offered through my city's hospice facility and I just found out about it randomly but it is very helpful
I love this essay from Emily so much! I feel her pain so deeply and I had a similar experience when leaving my marriage. It was that dark night of the soul when I asked myself, and honestly answered, if it was possible for me to feel joy in my marriage. When I realized that my light would forever be dimmed, and my wants, needs, and desires deprioritized as long as I was in relationship, I knew what I had to do. It's not an easy decision but bravo to her for prioritizing her joy, which also happens to be her career!
I can't imagine being with someone who doesn't want to read what I write.
"I thought about how, since having kids, my attempts to take time and space to write — or even just to be alone in the house to calm my neurodivergent brain — often turned into days-long disputes." Ooof. We didn't have kids, but my late husband and I were both undiagnosed ADHD when we met, and so many of our early struggles centered around the opposite things we needed to do to calm our brains. We mostly figured it out but even so ever so often some new permutation would surface.