She Magazine

Reaching beyond the pain: Finding healing after divorce

Published:

Numb. Fearful. Angry.

These words could have been used at one time to describe the four women who have shared their experiences for this issue’s feature story: “Reaching Beyond the Pain: Finding Healing After Divorce.” But the hurt can heal. And these women -- Mini Samuel, Mary A. Krome, Jennifer Cascio and Teri Franklin -- can prove it. It is possible to come out on the other side of divorce feeling whole and healthy. Following are the stories of these women’s road to recovery.

Mini Samuel’s story

By Kathleen Troher

Mini Samuel’s Jan. 13, 1993, marriage was arranged by her parents and the parents of the man she wed.

Such marriages are not uncommon in her Indian culture, so the idea of a match made by her parents and his didn’t bother her.

But over the years, marriage wasn’t what Samuel expected. She hadn’t counted on feeling belittled or having her abilities called into question. Eventually, she felt she was losing her identity as it became increasingly difficult to reconcile the capable woman she believed she was with the loser she was being told she was.

A member of an Indian Pentecostal church, Samuel, of Kenosha, sought advice from her ministers. Their message: Try to work things out with your husband. She turned to family members for support. They too cautioned her against taking drastic measures.

But Samuel did file for divorce, and in October 2009, just before she turned 40, the judgment was finalized.

“I didn’t want my girls waking up and saying, ‘This is OK. That it’s OK to be in a loveless marriage,’” Samuel said of her daughters, ages 12 and 15.

What surprised Samuel the most in the aftermath of the divorce is her courage. She has overcome the fear of being alone and being a divorced mom.

Her advice to other women: You’re stronger than you think.

“Don’t think you can’t do it on your own,” she said.

Also after her divorce, she joined a gym. “It’s one of the best things I’ve done,” she said. “Exercise is such a great stress reliever.

“A word of advice I would give anyone is, ‘Do not let yourself go.’ Just because a relationship failed doesn’t mean that you are a failure. Take care of yourself because no one else can do that. I’ve always had low self-esteem, and working out has made me feel better about myself.”

Other suggestions from Samuel:

> Don’t lock yourself in the house. Have a girls’ night out with your best friends. But if you have children remember you are a parent first. No bar scene or wild parties.

> Learn to stand on your two feet. Go back to school. Get a job if you were a stay-at-home mom. Let your kids see how strong you are.

> NEVER, ever belittle your ex-husband in front of the kids. Always remember that he is their dad.

> Never think you are doing your children a favor by remaining miserable. I know people who are waiting for their kids to turn 18 to file for divorce. Why have a child live in a home where the parents are angry, cold and unloving? I didn’t want my kids to see that this was a normal married life. Sure, every marriage has its waves of ups and downs, but we try our best to work things out. Listen to your heart, listen to that little voice in your head.

Samuel, who switched to a different church and has received support from her new faith community, also found strength in prayer.

“I am not condoning divorce. I am not saying you shouldn’t try to work out your problems with your spouse,” Samuel said. “Try to work it out if you can, but don’t let fear (of being on your own) control you. If someone says you’re good for nothing, you’re a loser, don’t you believe it.

“You can overcome a lot with prayer. For so long I believed I could not make it on my own. But when one door closes, God opens another. Believe in God. Believe in yourself.”

Mary A. Krome’s story

By Kathleen Troher

For years after her divorce, Mary A. Krome was tormented by unanswered questions.

Did her husband know he was gay when he married her in 1975?

Was he unfaithful to her during their nine-year marriage or only in the end when he left her for a man?

During their years together, was she blind to signs of his true sexual orientation?

Now 54 years old and with the distance of 25 years between the present and her 1984 divorce, Krome, of Kenosha, still has unanswered questions, but she refuses to live in the past.

“In the beginning I was way too numb,” Krome said. “Now I have healed.”

But the healing took a long time, in part because her experience was so different from that of other divorced women she knew. Her husband left her for a man rather than another woman. That added other layers of conflict. It was the mid-1980s. Fear of AIDS had emerged. Language for what Krome was going through barely existed because people didn’t talk openly about gays and lesbians leaving their straight partners. And while Krome was hurt and confused, a part of her felt she had no right to be angry.

“How could I blame him for who he was?” Krome said. “It was like being angry at someone for dying.”

Krome also had to face the way other people dealt with the knowledge of her break-up. Some whispered behind her back. Some, even the well-intentioned, asked deeply personal or inappropriate questions. But mostly, they simply didn’t understand. And when Krome got divorced, there were no books for women in her situation, nothing to offer guidance or support. Even counselors fell short.

Translating emotions into words

Frustrated by the response from those who didn’t understand and by the way the straight spouse experience was portrayed on television and in films, Krome decided to write a book. By the time she started her research, four years ago, she was past the anger.

She didn’t want to write a self-help book or a memoir. She wanted to write a piece of fiction mirroring the multifaceted experience of straight spouses in the aftermath of their husbands’ coming out. She wanted the book to address identity confusion, conflicting emotions and family issues.

So instead of writing her story, she wrote about three fictional women in “Left in His Closet.” She used bits and pieces of her own life to give shape to her three main characters and their former spouses, their family members, their friends and current husbands and lovers. Writing didn’t open old wounds. Instead, it was an enjoyable experience, Krome said.

“The real work was not in writing ‘Left in His Closet’ but in the thought process that preceded it, involving my own self reflection,” she said. “I have healed. Writing the book made that clear to me.”

Krome also has founded Straight Partner Phoenix, an organization that conducts workshops with straight partners, children and families of gays and lesbians.

“I really want to get a dialog going around this issue so people know they have someplace to turn,” she said. “I had no place to turn.”

Healing can happen

So what advice does Krome have? That depends on who you are. If you’re a friend or family member of a straight spouse, then be a good listener. Don’t pry. Just listen and be reassuring.

“Give them a hug. Tell them you’ll be there for them. Be sympathetic,” Krome suggested. “It’s OK to say, ‘I’m sorry.”’

And if you’re the straight spouse, divorced or not from a man who is gay, don’t be afraid to seek support.

“Talk about it. Don’t be ashamed. This is not something you should be ashamed of,” Krome said. “Find people who are willing to listen to your story. That’s the only way you can really get over it.

“There will be a period of confusion. You need that time and space. When you’re ready to talk, talk about it. That’s when the real healing begins.”

Mary A. Krome, of Kenosha, is founder of Straight Partner Phoenix. She conducts workshops for straight partners, families and therapists on the identity confusion and relational concerns of individuals and families when their loved one comes out of the closet. To contact Krome or to find out more about her novel or her workshops, go to:

> www.goodreads.com/author/show/3365952.mary_krome

> leftinhiscloset@gmail.com

> http://ccgps.eastern.edu/members/marykrome/member.profile

Jennifer Cascio’s story

By Jennifer Cascio, of Pleasant Prairie,as told to Kathleen Troher

My husband and I were married on Nov. 4, 2000, and divorced on Sept. 15, 2009. I am 32 years old and am learning to adjust, to cope with a different life after almost nine years of marriage.

We had been separated for about a year before our divorce was final. At first, I felt kind of like a zombie. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to leave the house. I felt like my world was falling apart. It was like there had been a death. I just felt numb.

But I will tell you, you do get over it. You’re going to wake up one day and say, ‘I’m done.’ And when you reach that point, you’re ready to move on.

A couple of things really helped me. Counseling helped. I wanted to find out if what I was thinking and feeling was OK.

I even went to Al-Anon meetings. There were no alcohol or drug abuse issues in our marriage, but I felt I was going through that same kind of pain as the people at those meetings. They had a husband or a family member who was not there for them. I was going through that, too.

Reading books about divorce and relationships helped. I read, “Divorce Sucks: What to do When Irreconcilable Differences, Lawyer Fees, and Your Ex’s Hollywood Wife Make you Miserable,” by Mary Jo Eustace, the ex-wife of Tori Spelling’s husband, Dean McDermott. I read “Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man: What Men Really Think About Love, Relationships, Intimacy, and Commitment,” (by Steve Harvey). It helped me to read about other people’s experiences to see if they felt the same way I was feeling.

Another thing that helped me was prayer. I had fallen away from religion, and I needed to get back to that. Prayer helped me get myself back together. It gave me an inner peace and helped me realize that I was going to be OK.

Before my divorce, I was a push-over. I’m going to be stronger now. I’m not being snotty, but I learned a lot, and I won’t make the same mistakes twice. I’ve learned that in a relationship you really have to communicate with that other person. So now I’m more confident, and I think that’s a good thing.

But I still struggle. There are times that I’ll walk around the house and I may cry, but it has subsided.

I know there are women out there who are dealing with the same struggles I have been dealing with. I want to reach out to them. I want them to know things will get better.

I think the most important message I have to tell women is they’re going to be OK. Give yourself time to heal. Connect with yourself. You are stronger than you thought.

Jennifer Cascio is interested in helping other women who are divorcing. She can be reached at casciojennifer@yahoo.com.

Teri Franklin’s story

By Teri Franklin, of Kenosha

I was married for nearly 24 years when my husband left me. Two years later, in the fall of 2007, our divorce was final.

So much changed in the five years prior to our divorce, I guess I didn’t think the actual final divorce decree would be as emotional as it was. Our children were out of high school when he decided to leave. There was a period of time when, if I sat down on the couch, I would find myself unable to get up again; sometimes for days. I received professional counseling, as well as encouragement from family and friends, and through it all, relied primarily on faith to persevere.

The house had to be sold prior to finalizing the divorce, which led to three months where I was “homeless.” No, I wasn’t out on the street, but I had to put all of my/our things into storage, secure a place to live for myself and my son and our dog.

My daughter and her husband allowed my son to live with them. My sister, a recent divorcee herself, graciously opened her doors to the dog and me. The relationship between us became that rock I needed, the place where reality and uncertainty would reshape my thinking and begin the recovery of my self.

My sister and I got married eight months apart. We had our first two children four months apart and our second two just three months apart; 20 months from the oldest to the youngest of these four. We lived only a few miles from each other and bonded solidly during the years before our children started school. We could relate on so many levels that each of our families melded into an extension of the other. She had two more children as time went on, which only added to our close-knit group.

The emotions of moving were strenuous, but the needs of my extended family helped me find a place where I could exist without dwelling on this state of being. When my divorce was final nearly three months later and I could move into my own place, my niece said, “what do you mean, you’ve leaving us?” The tears welled up in me as I realized for the hundredth time in my life how close we all are, and how important that fact is to all of us.

My sister and I have spent a lot of time on the “issues” allowing each other’s pain, and sharing the joy as well. We are each other’s sounding board. Who else could understand so well that it takes time to feel “unmarried?” Both women of faith, we knew God would see us through, and we often shared moments where He had brought us beyond the impossible (bills, emotions, situations). She would remind me, “We’re being carried.”

It was through my sister’s example, I saw how my anger for my husband could resonate into my children, and how to avoid that situation. The two of us kept our parents, siblings, and well-meaning friends from ex bashing. It is surprising how quickly people want to take sides on the subject of divorce. It wasn’t necessary and we didn’t encourage it.

By allowing for a time when WE could be angry, confused, and in need of direction, we showed our children a gracious way through the process. A year later, she and I worked an entire summer to rebuild the deck in front of her house. She had helped me, and now it was my turn to help her. We didn’t ask for or want help from others. The process of pulling up these pieces of decayed wood and laying down something stronger, fitting it into place and working to make the whole thing not look piecemeal was a challenge. For us, it represented our marriages. The result is quite wonderful. The “patches” were a nice fit and didn’t stand out as we had feared. The deck was stronger and, with its new coat of stain, it is solid and whole.

Today she is in a serious and committed relationship. Her life is moving in a new direction. I am working on a new direction myself.

So how did I survive that first year post divorce? By reflecting on what I had in my marriage and leaning on the strength of a caring sister, who also trusted God in this process. A wonderful cousin said, “Make a list of what you are accused of. Cross off what is untrue and fix what is true . . . for present and future relationships.” Yes, the process was painful and I cried. If it had not meant anything, it wouldn’t have hurt.

I shared that pain with someone who knew me before and during this process. She didn’t let me wallow in self-pity but helped me see who I was and where I could go from there. There were many other friends and co-workers who aided in this process, but it was my sister, my best friend, who allowed me to keep on being me, to see victory where I could have seen defeat, and to see the road ahead and travel some of that with me. She tells me I did this for her, too.

I don’t live “down the street” from her like I once did. I don’t need to. I still talk with her. I still confide in her as I always have. My sister and I remind each other that trusting in God’s ability to see us through dark times always reveals what’s important. I thank God for her every day.