The Weight of Shame: Navigating Life After Divorce

Understanding the Emotional Toll of Divorce

I was on the treadmill last week, listening to Ocean Vuong on Mel Robbins' podcast. He recounted the time his mother was at the supermarket buying tomatoes. At the checkout, she had to put a few back because she couldn't afford them. I had to stop running because that apology lives within me as well. It's the very same words I've whispered to my children, wrapped in shame so thick I can barely breathe around it.

The guilt of watching my eleven-year-old daughter suggest cheaper ketchup because she's already learned to calculate what we can afford is one of my most heartbreaking moments. She knows.

Vuong spoke about poverty and dignity. Sometimes, we look away not because we don't care, but because we allow someone to keep their struggle private. What reached inside me wasn't the act of looking away. It was hearing someone finally articulate what I've carried in silence through my entire forties. Even as I listened and understood, I judged myself harder. How did I get to this point? I am educated. Unlike his mother, who was of a different generation, I should have known better.

The Struggle of Financial Awareness

I too had to learn to count. How much can I afford to spend on food? I checked my bank account before going to the supermarket. I even sold my jewelry just to make ends meet. That wasn't easy either. Not every jeweler will buy from you when you're desperate. I only managed because a neighbor knew someone willing to help.

At forty-something, I learned how to set a daily spending allowance. I noticed the price of shampoo down to the exact dollar. These sound like things everyone would know by that age—habits you'd build over years. But they were new to me, and the learning felt like punishment. Maybe this was a reckoning because my life had been too good before, so it had to even out now.

During my marriage, we never had to think about ketchup brands or what detergent cost. Then divorce came, and I had to learn everything. It didn't get easier; it got harsher and harder.

The Passage of Time and Self-Reflection

You would think time would make everything okay, but it doesn't always. As the years after divorce passed, I looked back and chided myself. "You think it was hard then? It's even worse now." I hated myself more for not having my life straighten out. I felt frustrated for not getting hired and climbing the ladder like everyone else. It wasn't for a lack of trying.

I hated myself for the choices I made. You would think divorce would make a woman wise, that learning only needed to happen once. But as years pass and you take a self-assessment of where you are now compared to then, you realize that you are sinking. How do you explain that to yourself and not give up? How much lower do you need to go?

Of course, our minds know we are not the sum of our bank account or job. But life weighs you that way. Life dictates how you can live.

Lessons from Literature

I remember reading Emma when I was fourteen. Mr. Knightley told Emma off for making fun of an old spinster, Miss Bates. He pointed out that as the years go by, she would only get poorer. I cannot help but laugh at myself for not heeding that scene written by Jane Austen. I never thought it would happen to me until it did.

The thing about shame is you can only say so much, so often. Share too little, and you stay isolated, convinced you're the only one sinking. Share too much, and it becomes the never-ending complaint no one wants to hear anymore. So, you learn to portion out your pain the way you portion out groceries, measuring what's acceptable to reveal.

But the feelings don't ebb away with one telling or ten. The fear punches hard over and over, and uncertainty locks you in place.

The Ongoing Battle with Fear

I never imagined I'd spend nearly my entire forties afraid. I'd be lying if I said I've fully overcome it. Telling myself no one is going to save me so I better stop crying—that's not a one-time conversation. I had to have it repeatedly, sometimes many times in a single day.

When this happens repeatedly, your nervous system stays shot. Your mind shifts into armored mode, swinging into extremes because fear demands you stay ready for the next blow.

No one tells a woman how terrifying this is when she starts the divorce process. No one dares to say this is only the beginning. So, sit tight and buckle up. By the way, the ride might loop for a while.

The Impact of Social Comparison

I do not have Instagram envy. It isn't my friends' vacation photos that hurt my self-esteem. It's watching them at the top rung of their career ladder while I placed mine on the back seat. The self-hatred for not knowing, for not anticipating, or for making mistakes no matter how hard I tried—it weighs heavily.

No one said to me I was worthless; I felt it within me. The final judgment of my divorce confirmed that I was nothing. How can you argue with that? How can you argue with a legal document that puts a value on your worth and finds that everything you have done for one and a half decades equated to zero?

The Conversation Around Empowerment

These days, we talk about empowerment and resilience. We celebrate women who've overcome. But we don't talk about the learning curve of survival at midlife—not Maslow’s hierarchy where there is joy or self-actualization. We do not discuss or put the word out about what it feels like to realize you don't know how to do the basics everyone else seems to have mastered decades ago.

The particular horror of having to learn how to live all over again when you thought you already knew what to do is profound. Vuong's mother apologized for failing, and so have I. I know there are other women carrying that same apology in their hearts, believing they're alone in it. They believe the fear, believing they should have figured this out by now.

Accepting Our Choices

My shame isn't about being seen failing. I see it, and it is hard to tell yourself another story. Even when friends try to help you feel better by saying you simply made the wrong choices, the choices were still mine. So the shame stays. We can do great things, amazing things. But how we feel about where we are—that is the hardest to accept before growth and learning.

I heard Vuong's words on that podcast and thought: I am not the only one. Maybe you're not either.

With a Quiet Heart & a Quiet Mind,

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