Seasons of Change
I was sixteen years old when I decided that I would never get a divorce.
I was sitting in my Sophomore English class, and the kid behind me was being disruptive. I can’t really remember exactly what he did to piss off our teacher, but she’d had enough of it. She told him to leave the room and head to the office. Disgruntled, he stood up, and mumbled loud enough for the room to hear: “Whatever Ms. W….. that’s why you divorced.”
It was an odd sophomoric dig at our Sophomore English teacher.
In an instant, I saw my hardened teacher melt into human form. I saw her face flush and her eyes well with tears. Almost as quickly, she straightened back up, and addressed the kid and the room:
“I want you to know something. Divorce is one of the most painful experiences a person can ever go through in life.”
And that was it.
That was the lesson.
If the mere reference of divorce could elicit enough pain to transform my teacher into human before the eyes of her young students, I sure as hell never wanted to experience divorce ever. At 16, this logic seemed sound.
I was looking for a photo of myself at 16 years old and stumbled across this gem! Artifacts like these are a metaphor to the other useless memories my brain retains…
That teacher, who I likely deemed archaic at the time, was probably my age now. I think back to that day from time to time. I smirk at that naive version of myself with my lofty little pledge that only a self-absorbed teenager would make. I also look at that teenager with compassion, because I know that her determination was rooted in fear of experiencing pain and heartache.
I also think about my teacher - and all the teachers, parents, and working professionals, who have to code-switch into various roles while concurrently managing undercurrents of heartache and logistics that accompany divorce.
During my divorce, I was able to slip under the radar during summer months. The change of seasons arrived with new events that landed like leaves scattered all over my calendar. Many of these events required me to be physically and mentally present with my ‘public face.’ School drop-off small talk, sporting events, or parent-teacher conferences . . . the transition of seasons that layered the transitions of my divorce felt incapacitating some days.
For teachers, parents, administrators, working professionals, and for the kids “acting out,” I share this reflection as yet another nod to the familiar cliche:
“Be kind. You never know what someone else is going through.”
For those facing the hardships of divorce transitions on the horizon: take care of yourself, and lean in for support.
You are worthy of love and abundance- through every season of change.
Love,
