Alright ladies, buckle up for a post that's about as fun as stepping on a rogue Lego in bare feet. This week, we're talking about the joys (emphasis on sarcastic air quotes) of maintaining friendships after divorce, especially when those friendships were basically built on group Netflix binges with your ex.
Remember that saying, "when you marry someone, you marry their whole family?" Well, guess what? Sometimes you marry their friends too. Suddenly, you're throwing joint birthday parties for toddlers you barely know and attending barbecues where the main course is awkward silences.
For me, there was this amazing group of gals – BarbaraJean, Marg, and Kris – my own personal squad of cheerleaders. We were ride-or-dies, the Thelma and Louise to my... slightly less exciting minivan. So, when I finally snagged a lunch date with them after weeks of dodging rogue Cheerios and work deadlines, I was practically doing the happy dance.
Except...my jig turned into a nervous tap dance as I approached the restaurant. The usual laughter was there, but this time it had a weird echo of...judgment? Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door, and that's when I heard it.
A symphony of hushed whispers punctuated by gasps that could rival a fainting Victorian maiden. They were talking about someone truly awful, apparently. This woman, according to hushed tones, had been a one-woman wrecking crew, leaving a trail of broken hearts and shattered trust in her wake. Her poor, unsuspecting husband! The betrayal! The injustice!
Then, a name drop that hit me like a rogue text from your mom asking "wyd?" – Prince Harming.
Hold on a sec. Were they talking about...me?
Apparently, I had transformed from brunch buddy to scarlet letter-wearing villainess overnight. The truth, as always, was far less dramatic. There were no affairs, just a slow fade-out of a marriage that wasn't working anymore.
But here I was, public enemy number one. The whispers explained the frosty stares from the school moms and the sudden social distancing at PTA meetings. It felt like a double whammy – a failed marriage and a friend breakup.
Now, emotional abuse can be sneaky. It creeps in like a slow leak in your basement, leaving you questioning your own sanity. And guess what? It doesn't magically disappear when the divorce papers are signed. Prince Harming spinning a yarn and playing the victim? Classic textbook abuser move. It's his attempt to control the narrative, isolate me further, and trash my reputation like day-old sushi.
Look, I'm no fool. I know Prince Harming's storytelling skills are legendary, even if the truth usually takes a backseat to his dramatic flair. But it still stings.
So, what do you do when your friendships become collateral damage in the divorce war? Honestly, I'm still figuring it out. This whole thing is fresh.
But here's what I do know: Real friends will stick by you. They'll listen to your side of the story, offer support, and maybe even call out a BS rumor when they hear one. As for the others? Well, maybe they weren't meant to be on this journey with you anyway.
The road ahead might be bumpy, but I'm learning to navigate it with my head held high. I'll surround myself with people who see the real me, not some twisted caricature painted by someone with a grudge.
And to "the girls," if you're reading this: The truth will come out. In the meantime, maybe a little less gossip and a little more "hey girl, what's really going on?" would be a good thing.
Here's to new beginnings, strong friendships, and avoiding social circles that spread rumors faster than a toddler with a mouthful of goldfish crackers. You got this, ladies!