Women who have been left for another woman describe the experience in extreme terms:  Stella, sixty-two, whose husband left her for someone else after thirty-three years of marriage was typical:  “ I cried every day for two months.  I still cry two years later.  And railed and screamed in the car and burned his suit in effigy in the backyard, every witchy, crazy, demented thing you can think of.

I drove by their house and hid in the bushes.  I could be at work, get overwhelmed and go into the mini gym and cry and walk on the treadmill as fast as I could until it passed.  I lost thirty pounds but gained ten back.  Jangled nerves, twitching eyes, hyper alert. So sad like you wouldn’t believe.  This is the guy I’d been with since age twenty-three, the only guy for more than half my life and all my adult life.  It was depressing that he was pulling away into alcoholism anyway but this was the coup de gras.”

Carol Taylor, fifty-two, who unknowingly moved her whole family to a different state because her husband had a girlfriend there, says, “I was blindsided, every emotion you can imagine.  Furious, sad, terrified, overwhelmed, guilty because I hadn’t been able to protect my children.

I don’t know why I didn’t see the warning signs, he moved because his girlfriend was in Florida.  The move really hurt the kids.  I cried for two years every day so loud you could hear me in the neighborhood.   I found Al-Anon, they got me through.  It’s a godsend and it’s free—you can go fifty times a week if you need to. “

Romantic rejection actually triggers changes in our brains according to anthropologist Helen Fisher, who has studied the chemistry of romantic love.  Her research was an eye opener for me.  It answered many questions about my own reactions to being cheated on, rejected, and will probably shine some light on yours.

In Cut Loose she describes how brain scans of rejected people suggest that they secrete excess dopamine and cortisol during the initial phase of being rejected.  That’s why rejected lovers get frantic and tend to relentlessly pursue the beloved.  They may also take humiliating measures to reconnect with him, anything from writing letters to storming into the other woman’s home to begging him to change his mind.

Paradoxically, along with the stress and the impulse to protest, abandoned lovers also feel renewed passion.  This has a biological basis.  Dopamine is the chemical in the brain that produces romantic love.  But when love is thwarted, dopamine-producing neurons in the brain’s reward system prolong their activities.  As the beloved slips away, the very chemical that contributes to feelings of romantic love becomes even more potent, creating protest and romantic passion, which impels the abandoned wife to go to extremes to get him back.

I certainly sprang into action as soon as my husband told me he was leaving and tried desperately to hang on to him.  All of a sudden, I felt intense love and attraction for him when previously I’d felt mostly indifference.

If you ever wondered, like I did, where the intense rage that we jilted wives experience comes from, brain chemistry goes a long way to explain it. .  It seems that love and hate/rage are connected in the brain.   The primary rage system is closely linked to centers in the prefrontal cortex that anticipate rewards.   The common response to unfulfilled expectations is known as ‘frustration-aggression.’

In short, when people and other animals begin to realize that an expected reward is in jeopardy, even unattainable, these centers in the prefrontal cortex trigger fury.   Both love and hate produce excessive energy, drive you to focus obsessively on the beloved and cause intense yearning.  They can exist simultaneously, which is why we vacillate wildly between love and hate when in the throes of being rejected.

“You can be terribly angry at a rejecting sweetheart,” says Fisher, “but still very much in love.”  This reaction explains why jilted lovers stalk and sometimes kill their exes, or even resort to suicide.  Men commit the majority of homicides while women may attempt suicide.

Luckily, many suicidal women fail to kill themselves because they’re probably making the attempt to manipulate the rejecting husband into returning.  However, many do succeed even if they didn’t really intend to die.  Even though our strongest drive is survival, the drive to love can triumph even over the will to live.

Eventually these feelings wane and you must deal with another form of torture, hopelessness and despair.  In a study of 114 men and women who had been rejected within the past eight weeks, some forty percent experienced ‘clinically measurable depression..  The expression, dying of a broken heart, is not just hyperbole.  People do actually die of a broken heart.

They expire from heart attacks or strokes caused by their depression.  These statistics probably come from a study of rejection in college students where most psychologists do their studies.  If clinical depression is that common after rejection when you’re just dating, imagine how severe it is after twenty years of marriage.  Fisher compares the process to the infant mammal when separated from its mother.  When you isolate a  puppy in the kitchen at first it protests.  Eventually, however, it curls up in a corner in a despondent heap.

It’s amazing so many of us survive, and actually bounce back to find a better life.  As severe as our response is to grief, for almost all of us the will to survive is stronger.  We’re programmed to forget and go on.  I often think of what it must have been like in earlier days when women lost so many children before age five.  Their grief was just as intense as ours would be at such a loss, but they got over it and bore more children or the human race wouldn’t have survived.  We have inherited this ability to grieve and go on.   The expression “time heals” is very accurate.

Of course, not all of us suffer equally.  How we react depends on many things, including our upbringing.  The same women who deal best with loneliness because they had secure attachments as children, have the self-esteem and resilience  to overcome a romantic setback relatively quickly.

Those of us who grew up in tense, loveless homes where we constantly had to deal with chaos or rejection, are often left with few defenses after being dumped.  Biology plays a part as well. We all know women with sunny dispositions, who always see the glass as half full.  They take everything, including being left for another woman, with more equanimity and bounce back more quickly.

Erica Manfred is the author of He’s History You’re Not, Surviving Divorce After 40.  She has written for Cosmopolitan, New York Times Magazine, Ms., Parenting, Women’s Day, and Bottom Line/Personal.  She currently runs a women’s divorce support group in her hometown of Woodstock, New York.

Editor’s Note: Erica Manfred, author of He’s History, You’re Not: Surviving Divorce After 40, is answering your questions about divorce — from how to deal with betrayal, to surviving the first year, to dating again, to finding a new career. Our “Divorce Doctor” looks forward to hearing from you. Leave your questions for Erica in the comments below or e-mail submit@wowOwow.com. For more advice from Erica, visit www.heshistory.com.

Sally R. asks:

“Imagine my thrill at the prospect of starting over in my 60s. I have been married for 42 years and I’m now dealing with a somewhat different situation. My husband left me almost two years ago, and when I finally got fed up with being in financial limbo, I filed for divorce late last year. He says he doesn’t want a divorce — but he won’t offer a single reason to not get one. He tells his lawyer that unless I rescind the petition, he won’t do anything to reconcile. Although I still love him, I no longer like him and don’t see him in my future. I have wanted us to go to counseling all along but now I think it would be a waste of time. At this point, I want him to “cut me loose,” so I can move on. But the prospect of trying to find someone to date is overwhelming. I miss having someone close to cook for and with, watch movies and travel. As much as I enjoy the company of women, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life only with them.”

Erica Answers: Sally, it sounds like you’re between a rock and a hard place. He’s the one who left, but he’s the one who doesn’t want a divorce. His threat about refusing to reconcile unless you rescind the petition sounds like financial manipulation. He’s made no attempt at reconciliation for the last two years – why do you think he’s serious about it now? I think you should go ahead with your petition. He’s the one who abandoned you, so you shouldn’t have any problems getting a divorce and, hopefully, a fair settlement.

Your second problem — missing couple activities like cooking for him and having a traveling companion — is a different issue. Once you put your marriage behind you, living alone will seem much less bleak. You will look around and start noticing new ways of reinventing your life. Until then you’ll be in limbo.

I can reassure you that even though you may not find another life mate, you will find men to date and even to love. Two years after divorce, 75 percent of over-55 divorcees have been in a serious relationship. Men are out there if you’re really interested in finding one. And what’s wrong with hanging out with girlfriends? I think it’s great fun.

Linda F. asks:
“How do you stop the bitterness and pain? It’s been five years and I am still lost and hurt. I was shocked one day by a call from the other woman (a convicted prostitute, with a drug addiction, criminal record and several aliases). Before this, everyone (including me) thought this was the perfect relationship. Now, I can’t deal. I don’t want him anymore, but I can’t look at anyone else. It’s really lonely. All of my couple friends have left me. Thankfully I have some strong girlfriends and a great family with two grown children. But it doesn’t help that I lost two good jobs in this terrible economy and now I can’t find work. Do you have any ideas, support or similar feelings?”

Erica Answers: Sounds like you could use a heart-to-heart with Silda Spitzer. Are you in therapy? I would start there. What helped me the most was self-reflection and figuring out my own role in my failed marriage. No, you’re not responsible for his betrayal or sleazy behavior, but there are always red flags that we ignore and denial that we use to protect ourselves.

Ironically, the more responsibility you take for the failure of your marriage, the better you will feel. Taking responsibility is empowering. You move from victim to active participant … which feels a whole lot better.

Another crucial piece is figuring out what happened. Who were you when you got married? Why did you marry this man? What changed over the years? What did you overlook to pretend you had a happy marriage? And, yes, you did overlook a lot. I guarantee it. The more you understand, the better you’ll feel. It helps to read books about divorce. Start with mine of course. I have a good list of other divorce books in my book. As far as looking at anyone else – after betrayal – it’s very hard to trust again. But is there a choice?

Love means taking a leap into the unknown. If you don’t do it, if you don’t risk your heart, you never get the rewards of intimacy. I wish I could help with the job situation, but I’m counting on President Obama to do that.

Have a question for me? I’d love to hear your questions and answer them in my column. Please ask me anything that relates to divorce, either before, during or after. I’m the girlfriend who’s been there, done that and wants to save you a lot of anguish … and a lot of cash. Keep in mind that I’m not a lawyer and can’t answer legal questions, but I’ve interviewed many lawyers and will tell you what I’ve learned if it’s relevant. I also may consult with lawyers and other experts on issues that come up a lot. OK, shoot … Leave your questions in the comment box below or e-mail submit@wowOwow.com (with “divorce doctor” in the subject line). For more information, visit www.heshistory.com or He’s History, You’re Not: Surviving Divorce After 40.

Note: Questions may be edited for length and clarity.

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Editor’s Note: Erica Manfred, author of He’s History, You’re Not: Surviving Divorce After 40, writes a weekly column at www.wowowow.com.

She answers reader questions about divorce, everything from how to deal with betrayal, to surviving the first year, to dating again, to finding a new career. If you have a question for the “Divorce Doctor,” e-mail submit@wowOwow.com. For more advice from Erica, visit www.heshistory.com.

Thebbs B. asks:

Is there anything I could do to legally force my ex to honor the divorce agreement he signed – without having to come up with a large sum of money for an attorney? I do not have enough money to hire an attorney to prove to a judge why I desperately need him to honor what should be a legally binding divorce decree. (The amount of money that he’s NOT sent to me over the years is approximately $66,000.)

Erica Answers: The answer to this question sucks, but in my state, New York, and in many other states there’s nothing you can do without an attorney – unless you represent yourself, which is certainly worth a try. A divorce is a civil action, and like any civil suit, you can’t collect without an attorney. Not paying child support is a different matter. You can go to jail for that, even though few parents actually do. Visit the court clerk and Legal Aid for help and try representing yourself. You may well be able to get an order to collect the money owed. What have you got to lose? There is probably something you could have done at the time of the divorce, though that’s very little comfort now. But other women could learn from your example: Ladies, if your husband is a sneaky sleazebag who’s unlikely to pay alimony or other monthly obligations to you, get as much as possible upfront in the initial settlement and don’t depend on monthly payments. They’re much too hard to collect.

Linda S. asks:

My partner and I separated last year right before my 50th birthday. Two of our three children (ages 22 and 17) live with me. I have a great support system with my friends; however, I am concerned about meeting new people. All of my friends are married or in long-term relationships. I also had to quit school to look for a job due to the recession. My concerns about meeting new people and finding a job are stressful … So is not knowing about the future. How do you deal with uncertainty and meeting new people?

Erica Answers: It’s really rough to face the world alone after being part of a couple for 20-odd years. If you’re referring to meeting people as in “people of the opposite sex,” don’t despair. You’re in a good age group — right in the middle of the baby boom. There are lots of men in their 50s and 60s looking for you. Put on your sexy jeans and test the waters with Internet dating. You won’t necessarily find Mr. Right No. 2 this way, but you will get some dating practice, which you probably need after being married for most of your adult life. As for finding a job, that’s more difficult. Did you finish school? If not, make that a priority even if you have to borrow to do it. In this job market, education is key. As for uncertainty, none of us really know what the future will hold. We pretend that we do but then death, divorce or another tragedy hits and life is up for grabs. If you see uncertainty as an adventure, an opportunity to reinvent your life rather than only a source of stress, meeting new people will become a welcome challenge.

L. A. asks:

How can I be a good friend to someone going through a divorce?  I have never been married, therefore, never divorced. I have a friend who went through a divorce a few years ago. She doesn’t seem to be over her ex-husband (who left her after two decades for her best friend). At times, she is so emotionally fragile I worry about her well-being. I don’t think she’d hurt herself but she may pursue a not-so-great relationship with someone for the companionship. She also is still attracted to the same type of man – self-absorbed and emotionally unavailable. I’ve pointed out mutual acquaintances that I think would make good partners, but she’s not really interested. I know I can’t force her to like someone, but she describes someone who appears to be very kind and caring as not her intellectual equal. I want to point out that the last “intellectual equal” she dated treated her terribly.

In short, how do I be the friend she needs? How do I know when to be a shoulder to cry on versus when to be a dose of reality? Or when to tell her that she needs to toughen up? Is this even my role? (She sees several therapists each week.)

Erica Answers: This has got to be one of the most frustrating questions there is. How do you help a friend who won’t help herself? Being walked out on after 20 years for your best friend would make anyone emotionally fragile. I think you need to walk a fine line between taking care of yourself and taking care of her. At this point the friend she probably needs is a fun friend, not a shoulder-to-cry-on friend. She has therapists for that. She needs a buddy to hang out with, go to movies and out to dinner with, have a good time with, to get her mind off her troubles. Reassure her that you care about her but try to avoid the heavy heart-to-heart talks. If she brings up the kind and caring guy who’s not her intellectual equal, feel free to point out that the last “intellectual equal” was a rat, and then drop the subject. Don’t try to talk her into seeing the world your way. Hopefully eventually she will recognize that we can’t change other people, only ourselves. It’s a hard lesson but it sure makes friendship (and life) a lot easier.

More Articles:

Ask the Divorce Doctor: Why Did he Leave me After 30 Years?

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Alimony…Should he Pay if he Trades in the Old Model After 30 or 40 Years of Marriage?

Editor’s Note: Erica Manfred, author of He’s History, You’re Not: Surviving Divorce After 40, writes a weekly column at www.wowowow.com.

She answers reader questions about divorce, everything from how to deal with betrayal, to surviving the first year, to dating again, to finding a new career. If you have a question for the “Divorce Doctor,” e-mail submit@wowOwow.com. For more advice from Erica, visit www.heshistory.com.

Jane W. asks:

Why did he leave? My husband just told me he wanted a divorce after 30 years of marriage. He said he didn’t love me anymore, he hadn’t loved me for years, he’d just stuck around until the kids were grown. I was stunned. I had no idea he didn’t love me. We never fought, we agreed about everything, we enjoyed raising our kids, we had fun together. I was looking forward to a wonderful retirement together. OK … so we weren’t exactly passionate, but after 30 years, isn’t that normal? I am mystified and devastated. How could this happen out of the clear-blue sky with no warning?

Erica Answers: Actually there was a warning — you never fought. I just interviewed Terri Orbuch, Ph.D., author of 5 Simple Steps to Take Your Marriage from Good to Great, which is based on her study of 373 couples over 23 years. Predictably, 46% got divorced. According to Dr. Orbuch your question is very common. She says it’s a myth that good marriages don’t have conflict. A lack of conflict means you’re not dealing with things that matter. The key is how the couple deals with conflict. “In general you don’t want destructive conflict with yelling and interrupting and withdrawing, both destructive,” she says. “Happy couples learn how to fight fair.”

Of course that answer is no help now that it’s too late. Or is it? Will he go to counseling with you? A friend of mine is in your situation and her husband has agreed to counseling, where all the anger he’s been storing up for 25 years is coming out. It’s extremely painful for her but she’s hanging in there. Maybe they’ll get back together, but even if they don’t at least she’ll know why her marriage broke up. She won’t make the same mistakes again.

Linda S. asks:

Is there sex after divorce? I’m 58 and my husband of 25 years left me six months ago for a younger woman. I’ve been crying nonstop since he left, but recently stopped crying long enough to surf Internet dating sites. There are some attractive men out there. After years of disinterest in sex (with him), suddenly I’m on fire. Every time a man comes into my office, I start thinking about what he’d be like as a sex partner. Is this normal? Should I start dating so soon, even though I’m still angry and hurting? If I do, should I have sex? I’m afraid I won’t be able to resist

Erica Answers: I went through the same thing after my husband left, although it took a little longer. I was stunned at how those sexual feelings started flooding back after so many years of death below the waist. The danger of sexual experimentation before you’re really over your ex is getting hurt yet again. I fell madly in love nine months after my husband left, and when it didn’t work out, I was devastated. Yes, sex is an escape from the relentless pain of grieving — and it’s a real ego booster to find that men are attracted to you, that you’re still a sexual being. But you’re exquisitely vulnerable at this stage.

Don’t set yourself up for more suffering. We women aren’t great at sleeping around without emotional connection. I’d say go ahead and start dating, have sex if you can’t resist, but protect your heart — take it very slowly. And protect your body — practice safe sex.

I’ve been wondering why the Tiger Woods thing is such a big deal in the media. Why do people care about Tiger’s infidelities? After all, it seems to me that infidelity is treated as no big deal in this country. Men cheat every day, get caught, get divorced, leave their kids, drag their kids into the home of the other woman and truly no one gives a damn, including the courts. Adultery isn’t even a cause for divorce in 48 states (still is in New York—bless my state). So why the big fuss?

I read the thread on the ABC news site about the story and almost 100% of the comments said it was private matters, no big deal, leave the guy alone. My favorite comment was by a woman who caught her husband cheating and took a golf club to his Lexus. She still remembers how much fun that was. Some commenters speculated he would go off his game, lose his sponsors, and wind up leaving the golf world in disgrace, but the majority couldn’t understand why the media was making such a fuss about mere cheating.

No one mentioned his children, who I had to Google to find out he actually had. He has two children, babies, who luckily aren’t old enough to be affected by this scandal—NOW. But, they sure will be in the future. His kids will be the victims of this scandal if it ends in divorce—or even if it doesn’t, because they will be old enough to read someday. I find it amazing that Tiger’s children were totally ignored by the media during this scandal.

If there are just two adults involved, married or not, I agree that cheating should be a private affair. Of course cheating hurts no matter what, marriage vows shouldn’t be violated, but maybe your marriage should end, you should move on. Cheating can also be a wake-up call for your marriage—time to reevaluate what’s going on between the two of you and try to establish a different relationship—an honest one.

When there are children involved, cheating is another level of offense—against those children as well as your spouse. Children who have to face a parent’s infidelity are going to be…read more

Divorced Women Online Social Network. The new social network for the divorced or divorcing woman. A safe place to ask advice, share war stories and connect with others who have “been there, done that.” JOIN NOW!

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Here are some wonderful insights and advice on living alone from Florence Falk, Ph.D., psychotherapist and author of On My Own; The Art of Being a Woman Alone

You were divorced and alone, how did you manage to get through the initial period of intense loneliness?

First you must distinguish aloneness from loneliness.  We live in a culture that works to diminish a woman’s sense of self.  We are still stuck with the archetype of spinster which resides in the collective unconscious.  It’s very different from the archetype of the bachelor.  A spinster is seen as a dried up, desiccated, a throw away figure, while the bachelor is seen as debonair and eligible.   Until women grow comfortable and can stretch out into themselves they carry a lot of shame.

It’s very important for women to also meet in communities and understand they’re not alone.  When I give talks I let women know I’m not an aberration because I enjoy living alone.

How did you turn aloneness into a positive?

Aloneness is a neutral state.  You need to take away the coloration—which is almost always negative. When I say aloneness, people hear it as loneliness as if they were interchangeable. The distinction matters.  Aloneness is part of the human condition.  One of the ways we get in touch with ourselves is to really enter aloneness—from there you find your way into solitude.    It is frightening at first, but it gets easier.

How do you reach that state?

Everyone has had the experience of peace walking on the beach, reading, taking yoga, when there’s a lot of silence around you with no distractions.    Our culture is endlessly fueling us to be distracted; it wants us to buy more, use the cell phone, stay temporarily occupied and temporarily satisfied.   You’re bucking that.

You need to figure out what you need in order to feel more comfortable and in connection with yourself.  Solitude is the other side of relationship.  The more you grow into yourself, the more connected you are, the more you’re able to be a good friend and lover.

Women are afraid they’re empty inside.   They come up against, fear and shame and guilt—what did I do wrong so this man left me?    After mourning and grieving the relationship, you need to move into meditation, into a more spiritual life, into doing what you’ve never done before.  If it feels scary, you may need to tiptoe into the experience of aloneness and solitude five minutes worth at a time.

Who has the most trouble with loneliness after divorce?

Women who don’t know how to be alone.  There are women who have never developed an inner life and who are believers in the myth that someone else will complete them.  Those women never look at themselves introspectively; they’re always looking outside themselves to be saved.  When we do that we’re diminishing our own value and asking someone else to do something for us only we can do.

How do you suggest women start learning the art of solitude?

Find and pay close attention to what it is that you find truly comforting outside of food and drink.  Practice yoga, or whatever calms you. Listen to music, take a walk, play with your dog.   Try sewing or knitting.

Do something creative, which is not just about art, it’s about how you’re living moment to moment.   A lot of women love to garden or cook.   Extend the definition of creativity
It can be the simplest thing.  One woman loved idea of going home, making a nice meal, setting the table and making it beautiful for herself.   She created it for herself.

Help other women who are less fortunate, who don’t have resources.  Let’s use our nurturing gifts to help other women.

Erica Manfred is the author of He’s History You’re Not, Surviving Divorce After 40.  She has written for Cosmopolitan, New York Times Magazine, Ms., Parenting, Women’s Day, and Bottom Line/Personal.  She currently runs a women’s divorce support group in her hometown of Woodstock, New York.

Divorced Women Online Social Network. The new social network for the divorced or divorcing woman. A safe place to ask advice, share war stories and connect with others who have “been there, done that.” JOIN NOW!

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My book, He’s History; You’re Not: Surviving Divorce After Forty, is a very candid account of my marriage and how it ended. An Amazon reader gave me a review which took issue with my telling the truth about my husband “without providing him a forum to defend himself” because she thought that would hurt my daughter. I wonder if she thought I should have given him a chapter in the book to tell his side of the story? 

Hey, if we were speaking I might have done that. As it is, I got to exercise the prerogative of the writer—I got to tell my side of the story without consulting him. Is this fair to my daughter? I think so, for the reasons I outline below. I’d love to find  out what you think?
The review was entitled: Dirty Laundry. She gave me one star (I think you have to give at least one star)
    
September 17, 2009

Ms. Manfred takes great care to write about keeping children out of the fray in the case of divorce. Good advice. It’s too bad she doesn’t heed her own counsel. She wrote a self-help book incorporating the story of her life. She wrote about her husband’s alleged adultery without providing him a forum to defend himself. All of this is memorialized for posterity for her child. Why would she want to hurt the one person she claims to care for the most? Ms. Manfred could have written this book without interjecting her own experiences, but then, she couldn’t have exacted revenge on the father of her child.

Here’s how I responded:

If I had written this book without injecting my own experience it would have been a different and much less helpful book. If you take a look at all the reviews they all mention that the inclusion of my experience gives the book the authenticity that makes it so valuable. In fact, I’ve heard from many readers that my book made them feel understood, that I could empathize what they were going through because I’d been there, done that, made the same mistakes they had made but managed to recover. There is no way I could have given readers that kind of reassurance without including my story.

As for my daughter, I wish I had such a book written by my mom about her marriage to my dad. What an incredible gift that would have been. As is, I know little of what she thought or felt during their unhappy marriage. Of course my daughter is free to talk to her father for his side of the story–but this book is part of my legacy to her and I believe it’s a valuable legacy. Who was it that said, “the truth shall set you free?” Knowing the truth can only give her insight into her past. By the way I changed her first name and we have different last names so her anonymity has been preserved.

Erica Manfred is the author of He’s History You’re Not, Surviving Divorce After 40.  She has written for Cosmopolitan, New York Times Magazine, Ms., Parenting, Women’s Day, and Bottom Line/Personal.  She currently runs a women’s divorce support group in her hometown of Woodstock, New York.

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Last week I went for the second time this summer to a spiritual retreat in Lily Dale, New York.  Lily Dale is a rather unique spot.     It’s a tiny little village in western New York, near Buffalo, with small gingerbread Victorian and clapboard cottages all crowded together, most with luxuriant gardens.

Lily Dale is known as the “town that talks to the spirits” as it was called by Christine Wicker who wrote a book about it a few years ago.  It’s the home of the Spiritualist Church, a uniquely American spiritual movement that started in the 1800s.  The core belief of Spiritualism is that the dead are among and we can talk to them.   Seances, spirit photography, ectoplasm and other ghostly manifestations  became the rage all over the country at the time  and were a huge phenomena  on into the 1920s when the movement was discredited because phony mediums were ripping people off.

Despite the frauds and their controversial beliefs, spiritualists aren’t crackpots.    From the beginning they were admirably devoted to civil rights and individual freedom, supporters of women’s suffrage and the abolition of slavery.   Non-denominational, with no fixed beliefs other than in life after death, they accept members from all religions, and are egalitarian, running the town as a cooperative.  Their two churches have no ministers. Lily Dale is set on the original one hundred acres bought by the Spiritualist Assembly back in the 1800s, so you can walk up and down all the streets in about an hour.

Lily Dale looks miniaturized, as though it’s inhabited by little people, though actually most of the residents are on the large side.   Mediums love to eat.   Vegetarianism hasn’t arrived at Lily Dale yet and neither has Pilates.     In order to buy a house in Lily Dale you have to be a member of the Spiritualist Church, and most houses have signs advertising readings.    There are twice daily “message services” at the “inspiration stump” in Leolyn Woods, a old growth forest with a pet cemetery and fairy houses built by children, where mediums give messages to people from their deceased relatives.   I went to a couple but found them pretty hokey.   Most of the messages were of the “you’re doing great, keep following the life path you’ve chosen” variety;  nothing juicy like, “yes, your wife is having an affair with your brother in law.”   None of the mediums ever called on me to give me a message, probably because they didn’t want to be bothered by my mother who would probably have said, “you can’t possibly believe in this stuff.”

I stayed at the Maplewood, a hotel that’s remained the same since the 1800’s.  You feel like you’ve gone back in time at the Maplewood.  It’s definitely not the Days Inn. The keys are metal, not plastic cards, the reservations are on a huge sheet of paper not on a computer, and there are no TVs or phones in the rooms.   The Maplewood has a huge front porch with rocking chairs all in a row, facing Cassadaga Lake.  On my first morning I walked outside in my bathrobe as soon as I woke up so my doggie, Shadow, could pee, and saw that all the rockers were occupied by Tibetan Buddhist monks in maroon robes.  They’d recently arrived from Dharmsala in India to make a Mandala, which unfortunately I had missed.    The other porch rockers were occupied by a variety of regular folks, from a big guy who looked like a trucker, to an elderly couple from New Jersey, to a systems analyst who was planning to analyze the mysterious photos taken by an Australian woman who had snapped pictures from the porch at night of dots of light in the trees that she blew up into ghostly images, some of which looked like floating orbs and others exactly like fairies.     Maybe it was because Lily Dale was in the middle of nowhere, but the pretentious holier than thou spiritual types I’d run into at other retreats were nowhere to be found. The visitors and residents alike seem perfectly normal, although they believe in ghosts, fairies and spirits.   I suspended my usual cynical disbelief to embrace Lily Dale since it immediately had a soothing effect on me.

I really loved being able to leave the privacy of my room to sit in the front parlor or on the porch with whoever happened to be hanging around.   After dinner I’d hang around with a variety of interesting folks.    As soon as I got home from Lily Dale I felt very depressed and isolated.  I realized how lonely I am at home, where I live alone, with no one to talk to on a regular basis.   I would love to live in a place like Lily Dale, where I could have my own space, but know that there would be friendly people around when I wanted to socialize, right outside my door.   I guess that’s what retirement communities offer, but without the charm and quirkiness of Lily Dale.    Divorce throws you into a life on your own, often a very lonely life if you’re older and your kids are gone—and you don’t have a job and work at home like I do.   There has to be a new way to live but I haven’t discovered it yet.  I’m going to start looking.   I’ll let you know what I find.

Erica Manfred is the author of He’s History You’re Not, Surviving Divorce After 40.  She has written for Cosmopolitan, New York Times Magazine, Ms., Parenting, Women’s Day, and Bottom Line/Personal.  She currently runs a women’s divorce support group in her hometown of Woodstock, New York

It took me more than twenty years to figure out why I never left my husband and I’m still struggling with  regret about marrying him in the first place.    After he dumped me,  I wished many times I’d been widowed instead of left for a younger woman.   When your husband dies, there’s nothing to regret.   Even if it wasn’t the best marriage, you get to pick and choose your memories.   We’ve all seen widows deify the dearly departed husbands  they couldn’t stand when they were alive.  And why not?  The past is over, the only thing that remains is our memories.    If Ira had been  considerate enough to die on me, I’m sure I would have remembered his charm, sense of humor and kindness to old ladies.    I might even have invented a good sex life.   I didn’t get that opportunity so unfortunately  I’m stuck with an eighteen year sinkhole of regret.

Seven years after my divorce I’d done a lot of the psychological work of deconstructing my marriage.   I did the Imago analysis.    Ira  was very much like my dad, quiet, shy,  funny, creative…and angry     Unconsciously I must have felt that if I could please Ira maybe I could heal the wound of having an angry father—and an angry mother.     On his side,  I was supposed to heal his wound of  having a mother who ignored him.  He had me cast as the good mother– caring, loving and attentive.    I put up a good front, but   I didn’t pay much attention to him either.     He was too much like my own intrusive mother who stuck her nose into everything.  I never got used to his anger either, I just wound up tiptoeing around him.    Nothing got healed, we just repeated our childhoods.     He got angry no matter what I did and I ignored him no matter how hard he tried to get my attention. 

I also did the Crazy Timeanalysis.     According to my favorite divorce guru, Abigail Trafford, the balance of power is what keeps a marriage alive.  She says most marriages start out unequal  but if we’re lucky they balance themselves as time goes on.  Roles are renegotiated and power switches back and forth.     Sometimes you are submissive, your husband dominant, and other times vice versa.    Ira and I were stuck in what she calls a “Deadlock Marriage” where  the power balance between husband and wife mimics the psychological dynamics between parent and child.    I was the parent and he was the rebellious child.    We were  interlocking neurotic legos..     Without equality in a relationship it’s only a matter of time before a couple reaches a crisis.

We limped along with this imbalance, distracted by  our busy lives in New York City, and Tina, the 13 year old  foster daughter we took in when we moved to upstate New York.   When Tina left, I felt bereft and  longed for a child of my own.   Despite my  advanced age, 55,  I managed to talk Ira into adopting baby Freda, which upset the already shaky balance of our marriage.  Caring for a baby was too much for me and I pushed a lot of the parenting onto him, which infuriated him.  I was supposed to be the mommy,  his mommy and Freda’s mommy.   All of a sudden  we moved  from  occasional skirmishes to all out war.    His “best friend” at work saw her opportunity and pounced.  Our breakup was ugly and prolonged,  involving  much begging and pleading on my part and much lying and sneaking around on his.   I was stunned to find myself in a soap opera when I ‘d always considered myself a Hallmark Hall of Fame kind of girl.     The post breakup was even uglier, involving my inability to parent Freda and her subsequent breakdown.. 

Somehow knowing the all the “whys” of the failure of  my marriage wasn’t enough to banish my regret about marrying the guy in the first place.  It helped with understanding the end of the marriage, but  I still couldn’t accept those last eighteen years.  I was plagued by the “if onlies.”     If only I hadn’t married Ira I might have married……who?   It’s not like there were a long list of candidates waiting to ask for my hand.   I had no idea who I might have married, but whoever it was he had to have been a better choice.   As it was I felt I had lost the chance to find the elusive “soulmate” that I had longed for.   Not too many soulmates come along for a woman in her sixties. 

I was also haunted by the two children who inadvertently got hurt by our divorce, Tina who vowed never to marry because she was so hurt by his cheating on me,  but especially Freda who suffered the most.  Emotionally fragile to begin with she needed to be held together not torn apart.

Erica Manfred is the author of He’s History You’re Not, Surviving Divorce After 40.  She has written for Cosmopolitan, New York Times Magazine, Ms., Parenting, Women’s Day, and Bottom Line/Personal.  She currently runs a women’s divorce support group in her hometown of Woodstock, New York.

Other Articles:

Navigating and Moving On After Divorce: Tops For Women Over 40

You Can’t Go Home Again

A Handsome “Good Man’ Helps Restore My Faith In Love

I spoke at a divorce support group last night and heard some interesting stories about adult children of divorce.   One woman’s ex told her 19-year-old son that he was about to divorce her before he told her.

Actually he asked his son whether he thought it was a good idea.  I thought I’d heard everything but this was a new twist.  The poor kid suffered a breakdown after the divorce.

Another woman shared with the group that her husband was a serial philanderer but she hadn’t told her 21-year-old son the real reason they split.  It seemed he had a variety of mental health problems and she was afraid of his reaction.  Her marriage counselor and his therapist agreed.

However, her son was curious about the reason for the divorce, and what his father had done and kept asking her.  Her ex just lied to him, she said.   I told her I felt her son deserved the truth.  She didn’t have to tell him the details, just that his father had affairs, period, but I feel that family secrets are toxic.

I shared with her that my parents split up when I was ten, and got back together six months later.   I had no idea why they split and neither of them told me.  After my dad died, when I was 35, I asked my very proper mother why they broke up and she at first said, “we had problems.”  I asked, “what kind of problems?”   She said, “you know, problems.”  I said, “mom, I’m thirty-five, you can tell me.”  Finally she said, looking very embarrassed, “well he had affairs.”

Strangely, I wasn’t shocked although I had no clue he’d ever had affairs. I never saw my dad flirt with other women or any signs that he’d screwed around.  But somehow it made sense, considering who they were and what their relationship was like.

She was the domineering wife, who controlled the marriage and took care of him, me and everything else.   He was the dependent and resentful spouse, who acted like a rebellious teenager,  just like my ex who also cheated, but just with the woman he left me for.  It made sense that my handsome dad would rebel by having affairs.   He was too dependent on my mom to actually leave.

I told the woman at the group that I wished I’d known about my father’s affairs.  She asked why.   I told her it would have helped me understand their relationship, my adolescence which was hell, and my own life.   I thought I had a right to know about them, if only to sort out my own problems and issues.

I wonder how other older divorced women have handled this issue?  How have you dealt with your adult children when it came to explaining their dad’s cheating, or your own for that matter?