The legal approach to this divorce has a specific name. A name i will not tell you, so that you cannot google it and possibly have a more definite opinion on the matter. But. It means that we are all friendly and civil and work together and informal and we have lots of confidential meetings and negotiations and it’s supposed to be the friendly way to divorce. You aren’t supposed to tell people that you are doing it this way, or listen to ANY other opinions, legal or otherwise.
That’s what they tell you when you join a cult, too, I think, but I’m going with it.
(And the delaying issues of the process are not reflective of this approach, but of something else entirely.
The ‘ divorce team’ (ew. like, can we have matching jerseys, too?) consists of Mike and I, our attorneys, a neutral mental health professional, and a neutral financial expert. We met today at the financial expert’s office. It’s in the same office building Mike’s business used to be in. It was a cold morning and rain sprinkled the windshield while I sat in the car, dreading what was ahead. About five years ago, I’d sat in Mike’s bright yellow office, overlooking that same parking lot. We were discussing retirement plans for us, and he was explaining the arrangements he wanted to make that would provide for those years. While he talked that day, I looked out at the impossibly bright afternoon. The pretty white gazebo at the courthouse is across the street. The same courthouse where, after I’d adopted a young girl, we’d posed for a happy family picture. I wore a truly questionable shade of lipstick. But I thought we were happy. I thought we’d raise that daughter together, and do it well. I thought we’d make use of those retirement arrangements when the time came.
Same office building. Same view. Different day. Different weather. Different arrangements.
No marriage. No husband. No daughter.
But. Lipstick I will not regret.
It’s not much, but let’s go with it.
Oh, and also, I never have joined a cult. So there’s that, too.
*a boot collection note, inspired by previous commenters:
i’m cheap. (As caden-8yr so charmingly told me this week.) I generally get my boots on ebay in the dead-hot of summer so that I get a really great deal. You can too! (That’d be… NOW. ) Don’t be afraid of boots on ebay. As with all things, just sanitize and maybe offer a little prayer of blessing that covers you in case they belonged to a serial killer and then you’re good to go. I’ve bought new ones on ebay, but my latest were a darling little pair of fringed vintage suede ones. The only boots I ever regretted buying were old gringos that were gorgeous, and colorful, but I paid retail for them (?!) in Santa Fe in the middle of a snowstorm because Mike was all for it and I told myself I wouldn’t care that they had roses on them. But. I did. I HAAAAATE roses. I finally gave them away just so I could stop flinching at the sight of them in my closet. Don’t make a similar unwise boot purchase. Be sure what you want, and then go find it for an off-season, extremely cheap ebay price and then be thrilled. Good plan, right!?