How to navigate your first post-divorce Thanksgiving

Holidays are stressful at the best of times. But when you’re newly-divorced? Being single during the holidays for the first time in years adds a whole new element of pressure. How do we let some of the pressure go? We open the lid!

Here are my top 5 strategies for promoting self-care during your first post-divorce Thanksgiving.

Lower your expectations

Part of the disappointment surrounding the holidays comes from having unrealistic expectations that this year will be better or different than years before. But really, it’s about being grateful. And it just a day. It’s a meal where everyone eats too much and relaxes far too little.

Be open to new traditions

Getting your groove back after a divorce is all about new traditions and doing the right thing for you and your children. Thanksgiving is one day a year and the weekend can be shared. If Thanksgiving has never been important to you, don’t make it important now. If it is important, then try to share or trade off. No one solution works for every family. If you and your ex are on good terms, you might have the dinner together. At least the first year. It will give your children continuity even if you and your ex are uncomfortable. And I think all parents will agree: their children’s comfort is always more important than their own.

When I was younger, I spent a long weekend with a dear friend whose parents were divorced. The first meal was with her father and his new wife at noon. Everything was puréed and no sugar added. I was starving and ate my fill of the less-than stellar spread. But my friend neglected to warn me to save room for her Mom’s gourmet Thanksgiving dinner later in the day!

That’s one way to do it. Negotiation is key. And no matter how angry or hurt you are, remember that you loved this person once. You had children with them. Try to offer them the kindness and common courtesy of a total stranger.

For the first few years after our divorce, my ex and I had holidays with our children. Not his family and not my family. We actually celebrated just the 4 of us. It wasn’t always pleasant or comfortable but it was what we thought was best for our children. The divorce wasn’t their doing and we wanted to make that clear from the beginning and reinforce that notion whenever possible by sucking it up and making the holidays as special as they always were.

Give yourself a break

Thanksgiving is usually a family holiday. But maybe your family totally stresses you out. Maybe they looooved your ex and they make you feel guilty for the split. Just because you’re related to these people doesn’t mean you have to spend Thanksgiving with them. Your family loves you but that doesn’t give them an open forum to expound on your perceived mistakes. It is your choice to be somewhere else.

And if the turkey has been served at your house every year for the past twenty years, take a year off. Let someone else plan, cook, and serve the dinner. And if you do attend, make sure people know that your personal life is not on the menu.

Make alternative plans

Is the beginning of the holiday season as a divorcee bringing up too many emotions? Why not volunteer at a soup kitchen instead? Many charities, churches, synagogues, and other houses of worship have a great need for help during the holidays. Retirement facilities would greatly appreciate someone willing to be there during the long Thanksgiving weekend as well. Sometimes focusing your energy outwards is the key to ending the wallowing.

If volunteering is too big a leap for you, how about attending someone else’s holiday meal? Community Thanksgiving meals are common. Find out what’s going on in your town!

Attend a friend’s holiday meal

Most hosts would love to have another pair of adult hands assist them. And other peoples’ family dysfunction isn’t nearly as awkward, painful, or stressful as the one you were born into. It might even be way more entertaining. The food might be better too.

When people begin talking holiday plans at work, let them know you need a place to be.

Let your friends know with a phone call, Facebook, or email that you are looking for a place to hang your hat on Thanksgiving. Dealing with divorced friends can be awkward for people … they often don’t know if inviting you alone will bring up emotions. They don’t want to rock the boat. So make your intentions clear. Make this Thanksgiving what you want it to be.

And never stop reminding yourself: Thanksgiving is one day. (Tweet it!)

24 hours. A Thursday in November. You are not in fourth grade and this isn’t a classmates’ birthday party. Figure out where you want to be. And if staying home in your sweatpants with a turkey sandwich while binge watching Ray Donovan is where you want to be … more power to you!

Self care is not selfish

Who decided that taking care of yourself is selfish?

As women, we are often expected to be everything to everyone and if we take time out for ourselves, it’s selfish. Or worse still, a luxury that can be given up when time or resources are scarce. Nothing could be further from the truth.

I remember a story my mother once told me that I didn’t understand. Looking back, I realize it was about self-care.

There once was a woman with many children. She came through the door one evening after a long exhausting day and all of her children were whining and complaining about being hungry and wanting dinner. She went into the kitchen and closed the door. Pots and pans were banging. Drawers were opening and closing. Chopping and stirring. Gas burners hissing. The oven door opened and closed. The children heard a chair being pulled across the floor. Then all was quiet except for the sound of silverware against a plate. Once she had eaten, the mother cleared her plate. Only then did she move on to the task of feeding her brood. Many of my clients appreciate the story and STILL feel that they can’t do it themselves.

I remember thinking how selfish that woman was, putting her own needs before her children. I asked my mother about the story and she said, “If the mother doesn’t take care of herself, how can she care for her children?” Twenty years, two children, two businesses, one masters degree and one divorce later, I finally understand this story and its simple message:

Caretakers need to take care of themselves! (Tweet it!)

How to commit to self care this holiday season

Welcome to our first annual Self Care November. Before the stress and demands of the holidays are upon you, it’s time to start taking better care of yourself.

Let’s start by saying no to things that we don’t enjoy or want to do. Don’t volunteer just because you’ve been doing it for years and feel obligated. My friend and Mentor Sam Bennet does a gut check when people ask her to do things. If it feels good and there is some excitement, then it’s a resounding yes. If she is waffling at all, then it’s a no. To her, wavering at all means no. Stop torturing yourself with the following list:

  • “Maybe”
  • “I need to because … ”
  • “I should”
  • “They’re expecting”
  • “I have to”

If any of these answers come to mind when you’re asked to do something, take a breath and say no this year. That includes church groups, synagogue boards, school events, or work parties. Holidays are stressful enough. Cut down on your commitments so that you can really enjoy your family and friends this season. Who wants to be a frazzled mess on January 2nd? That’s no way to start the new year. Just thank the person for thinking of you, and politely tell them that you’re all booked up.
For the newly divorced, holidays can be a minefield. In the weeks to come, I will be sharing tips on how to get through the holiday season with your joy intact.

Divorce is a great time to begin new traditions. Just because you’ve always done things a certain way doesn’t mean that things can’t change. Start thinking about changes you want to make and the traditions you want to start.

And don’t forget to listen to your gut. It’s the first step toward implementing true self-care not only during the holidays, but moving forward in your new, post-divorce life.

Now over to you: How are you committing to making things easier on yourself this holiday season?

On keeping score in a relationship

When we were children, every slight from a sibling, cousin, or classmate was remembered. These slights were likely returned immediately when the adult on duty had their back turned. If someone hit you, you hit back. When a friend snatched your eraser, you grabbed their pencil. If someone grabbed your toy, you grabbed it back. If someone called you stupid, they were stupid. We were masters of keeping score. But as we grew older and began to understand the ways of polite society, we learned not to keep score in the same way. We learned that words were often more powerful than deeds.

Sitting in rush hour traffic this morning, the man behind me honked his horn before the light turned green. Should I move? Gesture with my middle finger in the rear view mirror? Block his way completely? Tit for tat? I laughed at myself and proceeded on my way. And then I thought about keeping score and how both my ex-husband and I had done this during our marriage. I cover these kind of behaviors with my coaching clients. I wish I was smart enough to talk to someone about it years ago.

It doesn’t make sense to keep score when you’re in a partnership.

When both parties are getting what they want and need, there’s no reason to fill in a scorecard. (Tweet it!)

As communication breaks down and hurt feelings and disappointments give way to score keeping, it is extremely difficult to return to even. Especially if one spouse does the majority of the emotional heavy lifting in the relationship.

I remember inviting a couple over for meals several times during our marriage and they always accepted happily but without a single return invitation. This went on for years. My ex-husband and I argued about it. I remember feeling a bit ungracious but also like a grown up. The time and energy put into those meals was a lot of effort. We had two small children and busy lives. It was not a “give and take” relationship — it was a “take and take” relationship. So I simply stopped inviting this couple over.

We’ve all had relationships like this. A family member or close friend that feels entitled to our time and energy. There is no reciprocity in this kind of relationship. It’s not keeping score when it is completely one-sided. It is a decision to invest in relationships that nurture you, make you feel better, and lift you up emotionally. The positive relationships are easy to identify. These are with the people you feel you NEVER get to spend enough time with.

It’s not my recommendation to end all relationships in your life that are unequal. But I want you to take a closer look and reserve your time and energy for the people in your lives that build you up. In a grown-up relationship, you give and receive. Make the “give and take” relationships a priority – this forces you to limit the time you spend on the emotionally depleting “take and take” relationships.

Who’s afraid of a mammogram, Virginia?

A few weeks before I turned 50, I received a phone call from my HMO congratulating me on my upcoming birthday. I was a shocked: I’m always the one trying to get in touch with them, waiting on hold endlessly, being transferred to the wrong extension or department, and eventually being disconnected only to start the process all over again.

My dismay continued as the chirpy woman from the HMO wished me good health. I laughed and thanked her. I was ready to end the conversation. That would make a good story. But as I was about to hang up, she invited me to come in for a mammogram.

I sat down hard and fumbled for my diary. I had been meaning to make an appointment. It had been such an emotional year. I was going to do this and a long list of other things after my birthday. There happened to be a 10 AM appointment on my 50th birthdy that I politely declined. Partly out of cowardice and partly because, for the first time in two decades, I was doing exactly what I wanted on my birthday and a mammogram just wasn’t on the list. I speak with clients all the time who grapple with their age. This year, I was going to celebrate mine!

I was having a girls spa day with seven of my female friends. But if I pushed the appointment off for two weeks, I would have enough time to torture myself and completely obsess about the test.
This wasn’t my first mammogram. I had had a mammogram once or twice around my fortieth birthday. But that was before. Before my mother died of cancer, before friends’ mothers had died of cancer, and before friends had died of cancer. When my children were babies and I was still someone’s wife, I had a benign brain tumor removed.

Now, everything was different. I felt it every day. And it was everywhere.

People at parties spoke about recent colonoscopies, high cholesterol, and physical therapists. Not books they’ve read or places they had visited and restaurants that must be tried. If this was getting older, I didn’t want any part of it. Not the talk, not the tests, and certainly not the results. Come join a coaching session and we’ll cover it there.

And what if I did have cancer? Who would want me then? How would I begin dating at 50, bald with a bad wig and yellow skin? Or worse yet, what if ended up with one breast or none? Or if I became a swollen old woman from chemo and steroids? My married life was over. How was I going to start dating with cancer?

Still I knew enough to know that early detection saves lives. I could be the eighth of nine who didn’t have breast cancer in my lifetime. A dear friend of mine had her own post-fifty mammogram a year ago and the results were positive for cancer. She had surgery almost immediately, had a breast removed, only took a couple days off, and kept working. She didn’t tell very many people, and on the anniversary of her diagnosis, she started an emergency relief fund for other women diagnosed with breast cancer.

I was working on my own loss this year: the loss of a 17-year marriage and the breakup of a family. After the separation, I felt like a part of me had been removed. I still spoke in plural and realized the stories I told were about something we, my former husband and I, had done or seen together. And there were fewer invitations. Some people were more curious than consoling and I realized that my social circle was almost entirely married people.

My friend S. and I had long talks about our conditions. We were very supportive. She appreciated my gallows humor and invited me to holidays and dinners when my children were not with me. We reviewed her constant doctor visits, the weekly scans and blood tests, and what procedure to choose for her replacement breast.

I cataloged fix up lines and all my new friends on Facebook. I drove her to appointments when her husband couldn’t be with her. The offices and wards were cheerfully stifling. Some of the women looked healthy. Others painfully thin and drawn with headscarves and caps pulled over their ears. Some had moon faces bloated from medication. People spoke in murmurs. The only laughter was ours. And there was never quite enough air.

And I was uncomfortable with my own good health. Taking it for granted. I bargained with G-d that I would start working out. Stop eating fried foods. Give more to charity and be more patient with my kids if only I could miss this bullet. I was divorced in a sea of married people. And I was treading water pretty well.

But a cancer diagnosis without the support of a spouse was something I couldn’t handle. (Tweet it!)

After two weeks of sleepless nights, the morning dawned. I took my teenage daughter with me, and as we sat in the waiting room she was bored and antsy. The constant chime of her instant messaging rattling me further. I dismissed her after I filled out the paperwork. She didn’t understand what the big deal was and I didn’t want to burden her. I sat in the waiting area with eight other women who all had the same appointment time as I did. We were all nervous. We were all alone and waiting together. Somehow it was comforting. We wished each other good luck as if we were old friends.

One by one each woman’s name was called and they filed in with their paperwork. As our numbers decreased, we shifted to the chairs closer to the door. The testing room was freezing and dark. I posed for the pictures of my smashed breasts, then returned to the waiting room to wait for the ultrasound.

I started to think about my life. How difficult and exhilarating the last year had been. Doing things alone, the way I wanted to, for the first time in two decades. How happy my kids were and how my ex and I had finally become friends. I thought about how lucky I was to have people in my life that cared about me. And how being me didn’t seem to be enough for the longest time, and now being me finally was enough. Cancer or not, I would find someone to love me just the way I was.

I was the last one in the waiting room. The woman doing my ultrasound couldn’t find my records. We tried my maiden name and married name. I explained that I had just divorced my husband but we still had a family policy. She located my record. We chatted about work, children, marriage, and divorce. As I was getting dressed she told me I was remarkable. And she wished she had as much courage as I did. I thanked her and handed her my divorce attorney’s card.