I met a woman who was divorced. The choice to divorce was not hers. She was a single mother, and although she loved her children, she was stressed. She was working full time and trying to be the best single parent she could. She was tired from the demands of the job, and the house, and the kids. She was angry at her husband. She was bitter because as hard as she tried, she could not put the pieces of her life back together again.
I could relate.
Don't want to pull that T-shirt out of the drawer again.
But there was one thing that I tried to explain. She can't put the pieces of her life back together again. It will never be like it was. Pieces of that life are now missing. Instead of clutching those pieces close to her chest, trying in vain to force them into a picture that no longer exists, best to throw them all high into the air, letting those pieces of her life glitter in the air momentarily before falling to the ground. Re-arrange them into a mosaic of a new life that is uniquely hers. There is no point in being bitter. A terrible thing has happened, and sometimes life will, as they say, suck hind tit. But it's still HER life, and she has every chance to turn it into something marvelous. She can still raise wonderful kids. She still has opportunities in this country that other women in other countries would give their right arm for.
It will be harder, but there are great rewards.
Bitterly, she told me that I couldn't understand what it was like.
"Your husband loves you," she snapped.
She turned away to yell at her children before I could say anything else.
I wish that I could have made a difference.
But she wouldn't allow it.
I feel sick for her children.