Getting out of Limbo

by | Sep 2, 2024 | Divorce and Separation

Getting out of limbo

 

It is C+16 since my world changed, and I find myself in limbo.

Pardon me if you don’t understand my lingo. Coincidentally, I am reading “Seveneves” by Neal Stephenson, a story about a BIG world change: the destruction of Earth because an agent breaks up the moon into little pieces. The science is over my head, but everyone has time to prepare for the end of the world because there is a lag between the moon breakup and the Earth’s destruction. The characters decide it’s time to establish a new calendar, and AD and CE are gone, replaced by A (for Agent), plus the number of days since the Agent hit the moon.

Today is March 29, 2020, 16 days after my kids were ordered not to go to school and we were all instructed not to leave our homes unless absolutely necessary. So it’s C+16 (C for COVID) since the Global Pandemic changed my world and the world of most of us. At C+16, it feels like the significant impact has happened, and I am living my new normal.

That…was…fast. As I stood in line at my local grocery store yesterday, two metres apart as the stickers on the floor guided me, I had an out-of-body experience. Suddenly I was a character from one of the endless dystopian books I have read and continue to read.

When I got up to the cashier, I smiled at her. She looked utterly frazzled. I asked how she was doing. “Not as good as thirty minutes ago when I started my shift.” She was an older woman who told me she had just returned to work after being off for four months due to a shoulder injury. Her grown children were mad at her for coming back, but as she explained, she had no choice. I packed my own bags so she wouldn’t have to and tried to channel calm to her, but I knew my chest was tight, so I was probably channelling stress instead. I thanked her and left.

I’ve set up a routine to deal with my new normal. It’s not one I would “normally” choose, but it gets me through the day so that I can do it again the next one. My youngest wakes up, feeds the cat, empties the dishwasher, begs for the Switch, gets told to read instead. My teenager drifts in, gets breakfast, negotiates Switch time with his brother. At 11:15 sharp, someone announces they’re hungry. We eat, we argue about what to do next, we get outside somewhere between one and four. Then it’s happy hour, dinner, more Switch, storytime, bed at 9- Groundhog Day style. Yes, I still make my teenager sit through storytime. We’re making our way through Narnia again. It’s one of the highlights of my day, and I’ve told him plainly: if he wants Switch time, he has to do storytime and outside time first. He is almost convinced.

That’s been my day for the last 16 days, minus the days my kids were with their dad. Hallelujah.

Some of you might think, ” Must be nice.” Others might think, “I don’t think I could do that for 16 days straight.” That’s because it’s my schedule. I built it after knowing all my constraints and what I was and wasn’t willing to live with.

Building it reminded me of my separation. I’ve lived through the end of a world before.

When I was newly separated, I had a schedule that got me through the interim period, that stretch between deciding to separate and actually having two new lives in two homes. I was on mom auto-pilot. My kids were seven and four. I took care of them, and when they were with their dad, I cried, took long baths, and phoned my friend Barb for therapy, because I thought I couldn’t afford the real thing. I cursed the world, and I cursed my spouse for throwing me into an interim period I had no control over.

I drifted for a year, blown around like a leaf, at the whims of family law, my emotions, my spouse, and my kids. Then I began my new normal as a divorced mom of a seven- and four-year-old. I still had day-long cry fests after drop-offs. I still had conflicts with my ex. I dragged myself out of bed to survive the day and to make sure my kids did too, but I was miserable.

About six months post-divorce, I had a breakdown, or maybe it was an epiphany. I decided I wasn’t going to keep going about my days the way I had been.

It took longer the first time. But I built a new normal. I learned how to deal with my constraints, the biggest one being my own emotional state. I realized my thoughts about the unaffordability of therapy were costing me more than therapy actually would, so I hired a coach, someone else’s help, not mine, and we started co-creating something new.

I was building resilience and learning to adapt to hard things and come out the other side still standing.

The separation days were horrid. I was being blown around by a force I couldn’t control. The C+ days are horrid too, and I have no control over them.

And I’m going to be okay.

Evolution Vs. Change

Evolution Vs. Change

by | Feb 3, 2024 | Divorce and Separation

“Life is a journey, not a destination.” “Life is beautiful.”

I stare at both mantras daily as I eat dinner with my kids. They stare out at me from placemats my parents gave me for Christmas ten years ago.

I wholeheartedly agree with my placemats, but I haven’t lived my life like a journey, despite that agreement. Instead, I’m always packing my bags to get somewhere, still figuring out what to take with me. Every day I sort through my “stuff” and fret that I’ve forgotten something or packed incorrectly.

But something has shifted this past year.

Defining what has shifted is hard. It’s more of a feeling. What has changed? I can only identify it by noticing what is missing, and what is missing is anxiety, and anxiety’s friend, depression. It is ironic, but I had anxiety that my anxiety was missing for about six months. I felt oddly “flat,” and I wondered if I was depressed for a few more months. I’ve still had many moments of anger, grief, happiness, and boredom over the past few months, but they’ve felt different. The emotions lasted as long as they needed to, then they were gone. The anxiety, depression, and drive that pushed me onward, which usually took over from the first emotional trigger, had disappeared.

What happened?

For a while I kept trying to find an answer to why I felt different. There must be something clear and concrete that suddenly caused me to change. The headaches I started to develop, explained by menopause, were maybe instead signs of brain cancer, and brain cancer was impacting my emotions, one thought I had. Or menopause itself had caused a sudden shift.

I looked for one thing to explain the shift and minimized all the subtle changes I’d made over the past ten years. I did not acknowledge that the shift could relate to my work to live in alignment with my values, to slow down, to live in the present. I didn’t recognize the ten years of life experience and daily challenges I’d given myself through day-to-day living as a full-time single parent on a part-time basis, navigating new relationships, and building my own business. I forgot about the ten years of coaching and training, the mistakes I had to address and hold myself accountable for, and the successes that taught me what works and what doesn’t.

Instead, I assumed I had magically changed, or imagined something was wrong.

Our world celebrates social media-worthy, groundbreaking change with fireworks and celebration. Our world treats change like a destination we suddenly arrive at, not an evolution that took years.

Then, when we don’t change, and our world doesn’t change, we give up. We throw up our hands, say it’s impossible, and succumb to anxiety or depression. We carry on as we always have, feeling heavy, assuming nothing will ever change, living to survive and hoping that one day we’ll find that elusive life destination where we’re happy, where everything works as it should, where we’ll finally be done. Where we’ll have accomplished “life.”

Change takes time.

In life, we search for that defining moment, a single catalyst that transforms us into a new version of ourselves. But change isn’t a destination. It’s an evolution, and most of it happens while you’re too busy packing your bags to notice.

Sustainable Decisions

by | Nov 21, 2023 | Divorce and Separation, Money

Sustainable Decisions

Recently, I spoke with a friend going through major life transitions. Like many of us, she and her family are stressed.

My friend is in her late 40s with two children under 11. Her husband, also in his late 40s, recently quit his job. He realized it was not the right fit, and he knew that soon his employers would start looking for someone who was a better fit. He wanted to take control of his life.

While he quit his job to maintain positive mental health, his search for a new job is ongoing and he is having a hard time not getting discouraged. Their youngest child just started at a new school and needs more support. Their oldest daughter is gifted and is going to an expensive private school.

My friend has spent the last year training herself for a new profession only to discover that the expected professional job market isn’t there.

With all this happening, they have used up their emergency funds. It’s time to decide whether to take on more debt or start taking money out of their retirement fund.

My friend started our conversation by stating her husband is sleeping a lot.

Oversleeping is a classic sign of depression.

It all sounds stressful

Getting rejected day after day by potential employers for jobs he has convinced himself would be exciting, he’s now applying for jobs in other provinces. Adding a cross-country move into the mix will add even more stress to their lives. And what if the job didn’t work out?

Meanwhile, the family has been focused on getting through their days with little thought to planning and aligning goals with values, as that is hard to do, in the middle of the extreme pressure this family is currently under.

My friend asked what I thought.

I acknowledged that yes, they did indeed seem to have an unfair share of stress in their lives right now.

I asked her what she thought about making such life changing decisions when they are suffering from stress.

She got quiet and said, “I think it’s going to get worse before it gets better.”

I sat with my friend and we pondered her rather bleak comment.

Was it only by hitting the proverbial wall that she and her husband would find the fortitude to push through to a way forward? What if crashing into that wall meant they couldn’t move forward at all?

I asked my friend if there was a way for them to get some breathing room into their lives so they could slow down their decision making to find a more sustainable path forward.

She just looked at me and said,

“Well, we may be able to dip into retirement savings. That might buy us some time.”

I think she expected me to argue with her. Dip into retirement savings! What kind of financial planner would support that strategy?

Instead, I said, let’s look at your big picture financial situation. Maybe there is a way, after all.

Getting Through the Wall of Pain and Suffering

Getting Through the Wall of Pain and Suffering

by | Sep 25, 2018 | Divorce and Separation

Getting Through the Wall of Pain and Suffering

I often come across clients who are on a path that brings deep emotional pain, and they can’t see how to find a healing way forward.

I want to help my clients find a better, less emotionally overwhelming path. Still, I’ve noticed that emotional overwhelm acts like a soundproof barrier. Despite my “telling” my clients what I think works, they can’t hear me. And when that happens, I often notice myself resorting to the megaphone-style email.

Here’s a version of that email, cleaned up from the handful of times I’ve actually sent something like it:

Dear Reluctant Collaborator:

This process we are in together is not collaborative; you are right.

We are working in a litigation-style model where you submit a proposal with all the reasons you are right, then threaten dramatic action when you don’t get the answer you want. This is the traditional way of handling a separation and divorce.

That said, here’s what you’re hoping the traditional method gets you:

  1. Your spouse finally comes to their senses and agrees to all your demands.
  2. You come out on top once everything is divided.
  3. You win in court.

Now here’s what it actually looks like:

  1. You haven’t convinced your spouse so far. In the meantime, they’re getting more and more evidence that you’re trying to push something through. The conflict between you is increasing, and they’re getting more resistant as they gather proof that your opinion is exactly that: yours. Things keep getting delayed.
  2. You can’t liquidate everything. That one doesn’t work. Your spouse is a shareholder in your business and is also on the title to your home.
  3. Court will take a lot longer and cost you thousands of dollars more. No one wins in the court system. Children lose the most.

I’ve sent variations of this email to more than one client, and so far it hasn’t turned any of them into willing collaborative clients. Huh. Puzzling. My email is so very rational and logical.

Lightbulb moment.

There is no way to rationalize away pain and suffering. I know that’s frustrating for those of us trained as accountants, lawyers, engineers, doctors, and teachers.

So what to do instead? Well, this is the part I missed in my megaphone email. Collaboration takes listening. That’s the first step, and what I now practice with my clients. It’s the only way through the wall of pain and suffering. First, we must truly understand it. Only then can we find a path forward.

September

September

by | Sep 3, 2018 | Divorce and Separation

September

September. Labour Day. A day of transition (understatement). If you are a parent to school-aged children, September can be a bit much (I’m polite here). If you are separated and divorced and share parenting with a co-parent, September can be too much. It can be too many decisions, and it can be too many decision implementations, especially when you have to navigate those decisions with a co-parent. It really can be too much, but does it have to be? It depends on how you approach it. Let me tell you a story. It is a story of two parents with a 5-year-old and eight-year-old child heading back to school. Both parents have recently signed their separation agreement. Both parents believed the separation agreement was the clear document they needed to help them make decisions. The parents had spent a lot of money and done a ton of work to finalize this agreement. The parents were pinning their hopes on this agreement. I’m sorry to say that both parents were a bit deluded. These parents had a separation agreement, but that was all they had. They didn’t have a shared understanding of how to interpret that agreement, and they didn’t have a process to get to a shared understanding. What did they have? They had a lot of anger, grief, and blame directed at the other parent. And they also had to make a joint decision. What was the decision? Which parent was going to buy the back-to-school shoes? Seriously? Was buying shoes the big decision? Yes. Parent A (ahem, type A, so you can remember) always did the back-to-school shopping. Parent B (yes, that would make this parent type B) had worked outside the home and, in the past, had provided the money for the shopping. Under the agreement, Parent A and Parent B were now to share parenting and the costs associated with parenting, but they both had different ideas of how this looked. Had I mentioned Parent A was feeling devastated and depressed? Parent A went from being a full-time parent to a part-time parent trying to find work to cover all the costs of running a part-time single-parent household. Parent A managed to cover the bills, but there was nothing for extras. Parent B was also feeling devastated and depressed. Parent B went from being a full-time employee to a full-time employee with a new part-time parenting job (which seemed like full-time!). Parent B also felt financially strapped. How was it possible to run two households on one income (which is what was happening as Parent A still had yet to find work!)? Parent B was also providing child support to Parent A. Queue the back-to-school shopping. Parent A had bought the summer pair of shoes for the kids and decided it was Parent B’s turn. Parent A was tired of being taken for granted. All anyone cared about was money, and no one had given Parent A any credit for the years of work as a stay-at-home parent. Well, no longer! That was going to change. Parent B could buy the shoes. Parent B had just transferred money to Parent A for child support. Child support is supposed to cover the basics. Back-to-school shoes are basics. Parent A needed to understand how hard it was to cover the funding for two households. Parent A could buy the shoes. The first day of school approached, and Parent A noticed the kids were still running around in their Crocs. “Has Parent B taken you shopping for new shoes?” asked Parent A. “Nope.” said the kids. To keep the kids out of the middle (though, it is reasonably sure that the kids noticed Parent A’s eye-rolling when they answered “nope.”), Parent A contacted Parent B to talk about back-to-school shopping. “It’s your turn to buy the shoes,” said Parent A to Parent B, “but I know you’re busy, so I can buy them if you agree to pay for them.” Parent B disagreed. “Well,” thought Parent A, “the kids can go to school without new shoes. Then maybe Parent B will finally start to understand the work I did all those years and stop taking me for granted.” So the kids didn’t get new shoes. The teachers sent notes home that the kids needed running shoes. The kids said they needed running shoes. Parent A and Parent B dug in their heels. Parent B to Parent A: “I just gave you child support; you can buy the shoes.” Parent A to Parent B: “I’ll buy them if you pay me to go out and do that. I charge $50 per hour for parenting services. I bought the shoes last time; it is your turn based on our 50-50 sharing of parenting. I will kindly do this on your behalf if you pay me to do it.” Did I mention that this argument occurred at the five-year-old’s first soccer game and in front of both kids? What was the outcome of all of this? Parent A and Parent B eventually resolved this decision, and the kids got new shoes. The kids also got put in the middle and witnessed their parents having an embarrassing fight at a soccer game for five-year-olds. Parent A and Parent B had not figured out how to address these decisions either; they were still using old methods of communication where there was a winner and a loser, and the next time they had to make a joint resolution, the same thing happened again. And it continued. Every simple decision took days, weeks and months to resolve, and Parent A’s and B’s approach was hurting their kids. Sometimes, Parent A felt like the winner, and sometimes, Parent B did, but I can tell you everyone lost in this situation. “This is exhausting,” thought Parents A and B. “Life is hard enough – running a single-parent household without trying to work with my difficult co-parent. Do simple decisions seriously have to take this long?” Both Parent A’s and Parent B’s depression deepened. Back-to-school, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Birthdays, Spring Break, Summer. It is already stressful enough without the added stress of the battles associated with decision-making. Both Parent A and Parent B knew it couldn’t continue the way it was. They tried various methods to make things easier. Parent A and Parent B sought help. They both went for counselling and coaching, separately at first and then together after they learned ways to be around each other. Parents A and B have been separated for five and a half years and divorced for four. Their kids are 12 and 9. They are not the parents they used to be, and it is hard to pinpoint the exact moment when Parent A and Parent B became true co-parents, but I do know it wasn’t when they signed their separation agreement. September. Labour Day. A day of gratitude for Co-Parents A and B. A day to remind them how much easier it is to make decisions now, which is a massive relief as the decisions never stop and only seem to increase with each passing September.