There’s No Such Thing as a ‘Lucky’ Divorce

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My partner, Alex, and I always envisioned a family. From the moment we got engaged, the idea of having children was a given—an unwavering “of course” when anyone asked about our future. It was one of the main reasons we decided to marry, as we shared similar views on parenting, discipline, and values. For us, starting a family was not just a goal; it was a dream we’d nurtured since the beginning of our relationship.

But we never reached that dream. After our marriage, the dog, and buying our first home, we found ourselves stuck. Something intangible held us back. Despite our best efforts, the issues we faced only seemed to deepen. I was too critical, Alex said. He was secretive, I countered. After five years of marriage and three years of counseling, it became clear that our problems were as persistent as the sunrise, leading us to divorce.

The end of my marriage shattered me. It wasn’t just the sense of failure—an overwhelming shame that still lingers. It wasn’t just the trauma of moving from the home we built together to an unfamiliar place. It wasn’t only the loss of friends who awkwardly picked sides. It broke me because no one thought I should be hurting.

Everyone—literally everyone, from my family to my coworkers—told me I was “lucky.” Lucky because Alex and I hadn’t had kids. Lucky because I wouldn’t have to face a custody battle or even see him again. Terms like “clean break” and “simple” were tossed around as if they were confetti at my unwanted “Newly Single” party. Even the court treated my marriage like it was trivial. A few forms, a fee, and 13 days later, I received a letter confirming it was over. Ending my marriage took fewer steps than transferring a car title!

When people think you’ve had a “lucky” divorce, they assume you’re fine. Few ask how you’re really coping. Everything seems so neat and tidy, right? So I put on a brave face and pretended everything was okay. I never mentioned the tears I shed on the couch at night or how I only left the house to walk my dog. I didn’t tell anyone that I often cried in my car before even getting home, drained from faking happiness all day. I never admitted to staring at old photos of Alex and fighting the urge to call him, begging for a second chance.

The end of my marriage left me heartbroken in ways I never imagined. It obliterated the life I thought I was building and every goal I had. The future I once saw clearly became a jumbled mess without direction. The children I dreamed of would never exist, and the golden years I imagined with Alex were lost.

The fear of starting anew was suffocating. I found myself questioning if I would ever find love again. Would I even have enough time to have children? Did I make the right decision leaving Alex and the life we envisioned behind? Would I ever stop loving him, even though I might never see him again? The very idea that I wouldn’t see him again—something everyone else viewed as a blessing—tore me apart because deep down, I wanted him in my life. Sometimes, I even wished we had kids so I would still have a piece of him with me.

I know there are many divorced parents out there who wish they could have had the clean break I did. They likely think I’m lucky for avoiding the challenges they faced. But let me tell you, there’s no such thing as a lucky divorce. Even the simplest ones can turn your life upside down and your heart inside out. The only truly fortunate ones are those that never happen at all.

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In summary, divorce is a difficult journey, and there’s no such thing as a “lucky” one. It’s an experience that can leave you feeling lost and broken, regardless of the circumstances.