The Girl Who Cried “Divorce”
And the woman who took back her power.
Once upon a time, in a lifetime that feels far away, there was a woman married to the wrong man. Or perhaps the man was married to the wrong woman. Either way, they weren’t well-suited, but for a long time, they pretended they didn’t know better. But gradually, everything they ignored came rising to the surface. Conflicts that a better-matched couple could easily resolve became untenable. Everywhere they turned, there were dealbreakers they should have noticed long ago.
Eventually, the woman began to tentatively suggest divorce. At first, it was brought up tearfully. The man listened and was afraid and made compromises so that the subject was tucked away again where they could both pretend it didn’t exist. But over time, the woman suggested it less tentatively. The word came up more often. Sometimes, it came up in the middle of angry fights, but often, it came up when she was doing everything to save the relationship and realizing that there might not be anything left to save.
I became the woman who cried divorce.
What happened next is what usually happens. The man stopped believing me. He thought it was an empty threat — perhaps even emotionally manipulative. I’d said the word so many times that it lost its power. Finally, he mocked me for using it — and the power mysteriously returned to the word. I was so tired and heartbroken that I became furious. It was what I needed to file for divorce. Because it was then, and always had been, the inevitable conclusion.
When relationships struggle, it can be tempting to invoke the words “break up” or “divorce”. At times, it’s meant as a threat, but sometimes it’s just a cry for help to save a sinking ship. But the more it’s used, the more it loses its power.
It’s not just romantic partners that stop believing us. It’s also true of our friends. We can say that we’re going to leave a partner over and over again, but when we don’t follow through, we’re sowing the seeds of doubt in the people who would most support us if we walked away. They stop believing us, and our words lose their power. They become the sounding board — only we’re not listening.
It’s an exhausting place to be as a friend to want to help someone through their difficulty but to tire of hearing words they don’t yet mean. We go through the motions, but at some point, we might not truly mean them. We become just as eager for the words to take back their power and for our friends to take back their voices to create the change that would make things better.
Photo: Sage Friedman/Unsplash
Like the boy who cried wolf, it took me a while to learn my lesson.
I ended up in an unhealthy relationship many years later, and I became the woman who cried “breakup.” Again, it was meant as a plea, not a threat, but that’s not how it was taken. It was also a quiet effort to try to extricate myself from what I was beginning to realize was an abusive relationship.
I used it hoping he would take the hint and leave, hoping against hope that he would have had enough so that I could escape without any more assaults against my character or self-worth. But it wasn’t until I said the words as a statement, not a question, that they finally had the power to make him go. I meant them, and I would not back down.
After that, I finally realized just how much power my words had inside them. I’m not the woman who makes empty threats or indirect pleas to help me save a relationship that’s not worth saving. I’m the woman who knows myself, the one who stands firm in that self-knowing when life goes sideways, and my heart is breaking. I’ve learned not to invoke those words until they are needed and to use them with the power of intent.
Breakups of any sort shouldn’t be taken lightly. The power to break someone’s heart, even if that heart is our own, should be used with caution and only when absolutely necessary. It should be the thing we turn to when we’ve tried everything else — or when we realize that we’re the only ones trying at all.
When we summon the words, we need to mean them.
By that point, it shouldn’t even be open for discussion. It should be said with intent and resolution. Because by then, we’ll have already said everything there was to say, and we’ll have done everything we possibly could. We give the power to the words, but if we use them gently, we’ll know that we didn’t break hearts lightly. Not even our own.
For a very long time, years even, I was the girl who cried divorce to a man who wasn’t listening. For a little while after, I was the woman who cried breakup to a man who didn’t care. Now, if I decide to use those words, I mean them, and I’m confident of my choice. I’ve done all I can, and I surrender to that which I cannot change. In that surrender, I find my power, and the rest of the story is up to me to decide.
Crystal Jackson is a former therapist and the author of the 'Heart of Madison' series. Her work has been featured on Medium, Elite Daily, Thought Catalog, The Good Men Project, Elephant Journal, and Mamamia.