I’m Divorced!

I found out today that I’m divorced.  I have been for 7 days.  I’m trying to remember what was happening 7 days ago and if I felt any different… any disturbances in the force.  I can’t (remember).  My memory sucks.  So, divorced for 7 days… only 72 days shorter than I should have been (if the courts weren’t so backed up) and I guess if we’re talking “shoulds” then maybe 7 years shorter than I should have been?

Eh–who knows.  They say everything happens for a reason.  “They.”  The infamous “they.”  The next time someone asks me what famous person I’d like to have dinner with, “they” is going to be my answer.  Everyone knows “them” but I’m pretty sure no one has met “them.”

Today’s blog post was going to be a “what is sexy” list, but I’m all distracted by my marital status and other weird things that happened today…  Like on the way home from school with Spiderman I looked in the rearview mirror to see his entire right hand, arm, and side of his face smeared with blood.  Apparently he had a bloody nose…  the minute or two it took me to figure that out was a strange minute or two in my head.

So, I’m divorced… and other people are very excited about it.  It feels neutral to me.  I’ve been emotionally divorced for over a year now… maybe a few years if you don’t count the last attempt at reunion.  I didn’t cry (some people do).  I didn’t feel tremendous relief (although there was a little).  I just felt…  divorced.  Is that a feeling?

I’ve been wondering lately… how long do you have to be divorced before you can just mark “single” on forms again.  I mean, does it really matter on a medical history form or application for a library card whether I was ever married…  doesn’t it just matter (if even that) that I’m not married now?  Why is divorced a status?  Married… or not married… those should be the distinctions.

I sometimes still eat Chick-fil-A.  It’s delicious… and shameful
Most of the shame comes from being a(n almost) vegetarian
eating a chicken sandwich.  A delicious chicken sandwich.

Speaking of marriage.  This whole same-sex-marriage civil rights issue that’s consuming the hearts and minds of many…  I haven’t paid much attention to it at all really.  I know it’s selfish of me, but not only am I not very fond of marriage and the idea that it’s a government governed status… I also think that the community of folks (my community now, it seems) who are being discriminated against by being denied the right to marry are being harmed in much more serious ways.  Yes–it is stupid and awful and evil and wrong to deny the right to marry to consensual, same/similarly gendered adults…  but should all of our money, time, and attention be going to that cause when people are being beaten, killed, shamed into taking their own lives for being gay?  I don’t think so… but what do I know?  I’ve only been doing this for a few years (in my head), a year (in my heart), and a few months (in real life).

Anyway, it occurred to me for the first time today that I couldn’t just run off to the courthouse and marry the person I’m in love with (and not just because we haven’t discussed it and it’s kind of a two person thing…) because she has the same genitals as me.  Yup–it feels wrong.  Maybe not the wrongest thing that ever happened… but wrong.

So, what do we do?  Is legalizing same sex marriage a strategy to pave a road of healing and acceptance, or is walking a path of healing and acceptance what will allow people equal rights?  The US of A has a black president, and that hasn’t made us any less racist… just sayin’

Ah, the rants of a newly divorced woman.

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