Flipping the Script on a Story you Can’t Change.
I have been divorced for almost as long as I was once married. Nearly 20 years. 20 years of attempting to flip the divorce/blended family scripts…which is more than 1/3 of my life. When I do that math, it is no wonder that I feel so tired some days.
Today is one of them. Because attempting to flip the script on how I think divorce, remarriage and several blended families should be…is hard. It’s mostly hard because in the depths of the night, I don’t want to just flip the script, I want to change the story.
What is your actual story? It might be time to take a real look at it.
I am not physically tired from all that I have been doing. It’s just that I have just been overthinking, analyzing, critiquing, criticizing (myself and others) more than I care to admit. Occasionally those thoughts have lead to some obsessive thinking, but as of late, I have been using my tools to stop the madness.
Tools that allow me to flip the script of my thinking, not of the story itself.
Did you know that obsessive thinking about things you can’t change, can make you sick? Did you know that it can make you feel lethargic, less capable, emotional and irritated? That it can cause sleep deprivation, which can lead to unhealthy eating? The list goes on and on…
It’s true and you are probably well aware of all the negative side effects. The question is, how do you make it stop? How do you flip the script of a story you cannot change.
First, you have to replay the story just the way it is.
Here’s my story. My college sweetheart and I came to a fork in the road and realized we weren’t as evenly matched as we thought. Though it was a brutal decision after 20 years, and 2 small boys, we did it. We even did it peacefully for one whole decade, which is a lot of co-parenting. But we pulled it off. Then pretty quickly, with family challenges, new spouses, new ex’s and several more step children, lines became blurred. And within what felt like an instant, the switch flicked off. That’s how it showed up for me anyway. We were going along, doing the right next thing, constantly keeping human kindness in the forefront, thinking about the children’s well-being and the lights went out. We were no longer communicating. No calls, texts or emails. All had been shut down.
Not like an electrical outing, where you could navigate to the electric box, find the main switch and turn it all back on with relief. Not like needing some new bulbs either. Maybe more like a hurricane, coming in swiftly, not completely without warning, but completely overwhelming anyway. If this were like that storm, I would have been the one that stayed with the house.
“I’ll stay here,” I might say optimistically. “I have enough water to last awhile and the lights will be back on in no time. I’ll wait.”
But I didn’t sit around and wait. I yelled a bit too much, sent way too many emails, shed a boat load of tears, and shared with those that would listen. All the while, in complete darkness. Which, by the way, I am terrified of. Pitch black darkness. It felt unbearable to not understand how a divorced couple could so easily co-parent for 10 years and then fall into an abyss without explanation.
Okay, there were some explanations, but none that made sense to me. It felt similar to the pouring rain of the hurricane. I see it’s raining. I see the streets are flooded. But why again do we not have any power?
You are probably listening and thinking, that’s ridiculous. Of course you know why you don’t have power. All that water damage, power lines down, blah blah blah…I know. Rationally I understand about why the power would go out. I do.
But have you ever noticed when the story does not align with the way you think or feel, how difficult it is to accept?
That was me. I spent the next several years feeling like I was walking circles in the darkness, just searching for the switch. The little thing on the wall that could turn everything back on. Just one little switch.
The problem was that it was not one simple little switch on the wall. It is a complicated story that involves many characters. It began as 2 divorced couples, turning into 3 different families, with many children and many family dotted lines suddenly becoming solid. Once easy crossing back and forth had transformed into stay in your lane. Who was in charge became vague. And control (or there lack of) became bold and at the top of the list.
It became a story about a new wife angry at his ex-wife, and an ex-wife angry at his new wife, with an ex-husband questioning the role of the new husband…on and on and on. And all the while, all I wanted to do was flip the light switch back on so we could see more clearly. Because well, this had to be some giant mistake made in the dark, when no one could see.
Ha. That was the story I told myself over and over. Why can’t we all just be friends? Social. Do the next right thing. Cordial and respectful of each other as significant people all offering love to these 7 children?
Truth is, I didn’t want to just flip the switch back on. I didn’t just want light. I mean, I could actually see exactly what was going on. I wanted to flip the switch and have the story go the way I wanted it. What I wanted was for everyone to see it the way I saw it.
And that is where the problem begins and ends. It’s the good news and also the bad news in some way. It is the very meaning of accepting the things we cannot control. You know what happens after many hours in the dark? Your eyes actually begin to readjust to the little that they can see. So it wasn’t that I couldn’t see, it was that I couldn’t or wouldn’t see it the way they did.
Yet eventually, either by a breakdown or a breakthrough, you are lucky enough to begin to see things just as they are. And that is where I have landed today. Today, just 2 days away from my oldest son’s wedding. Watching him and his bride plan tediously for not only this day, but also for their life together , especially in the past year, has been the most joyous thing I have yet to see. Yet there were still moments where I could be found trying to find the switch.
“If we turn on the lights we could see that we are one giant connected family filled with joy!” That’s what I want to scream from the roof tops. But that, is my made up story. That is just me continuing some fantasy about a story I can’t change.
We aren’t going to have all the ex’s over for breakfast before the wedding and share our joy together. No one else wants that. Just me. Which is funny. Because if no one else wants that, how would it even be enjoyable?
But I don’t have to begrudge it either. I don’t have to fold my arms and say, fine, we won’t talk at all. Because I don’t know that that is true either. I only know that right now, we are all prepping for wedding day in our own way. Separately. And that it’s not good or bad, but just that way it is. For right now. And we will be sharing this day together, side by side.
That is how I begin to flip my script on a story I can’t change. This is not my wedding. This is my son’s wedding. And it will be joyful because I am the mother of the groom and that is joyful. Period. It is about as simple as it gets. And if I want to go further, without resentment and only love, I can see, even in a darkened space, that everyone else is going to have their special day as well. Because surely no one can experience a family event like this, quite the same. We all have our own relationships with our son and his fiancé, and we all will get to feel just the way we feel…
It feels a little brighter every time I say that aloud. So I have been saying it often, since one of my tools is to call out only what I want. Not what I don’t want.
So maybe just for today, get clear about the real story. Then flip the switch in a way that makes you feel better. In a way that doesn’t involve changing anyone else’s mind about it, besides your own. You will be amazed, just like I was, at how much better it feels. Joyful even.