Happy Solstice! or What a Year Will Bring

Cut to me staring at my computer screen in utter disbelief, exactly one year ago. It was around midnight on the longest day of the year, and the world as I knew it came to an end. My assumptions about love and trust were called into question. My identity, as it had exactly four years earlier when I lost my job, was blown apart.

Slowly, or some might say quickly, I rebuilt. Boy, was I ready for it, too. It was about time I concentrated on fixing me instead of everyone and everything else. I learned a lot in therapy.

Lesson #1: slow down.

Lesson #2: slow is fast.

Lesson #3: the need to fix others masks the need to look inward.

These lessons were what my friend Emily calls two-by-four moments (you know, because you feel like you got hit in the head with a two-inch-by-four-inch piece of wood, which, if you don't know, is also six feet long--let's just say big). And they just kept coming.

I worked hard. I took a close look at parts of me that I would have preferred to leave in the dark. I learned how to let myself feel and not judge those feelings. I learned how to show loving kindness to myself, because if you don't do it for yourself, it's tough to ask it of those around you. Today, I'm just happy that life can be this good. And simple. I love simple.

A supporting sister and best friend are my rocks, and they call me out on my crap when I'm slipping back into the old ways. New friends that I feel like I've known forever keep popping up. I get a big, dopey grin on my face when I think about my kind, loving, patient, fun, funny boyfriend.

I lost 57 pounds. I wish them well on their journey, because I'm not going to go looking for them. I started cooking again--a piece of the old me that I happily reintegrated. A new career called to me, and I'm doing the difficult but fulfilling training to become the best me I can be in that role.

I have a lot of adventures. A community of folks showed up to teach me how to speak the new language of acceptance and peace. The universe takes care of me. I'm in love with the world.

This is bliss.

Ready for a celebration

Already celebrating with my sister

My boyfriend's dog, Lulu, demonstrating my philosophy of life: it's all good; let's just take 'er easy on the couch

Divorce FAQs: How to Talk to Your Friends Who Are Going Through a Breakup

I've had my fair share of loss: my job, my dog, three grandparents, two uncles, my dad in the process of his divorce from my mother, friends who didn't want to be friends anymore, and my money. Of course I've learned wondrous life lessons from all of it and have grown tremendously as a human being. Loss has made me more appreciative of what I do have, including an extensive support system of family and friends, a lovely home, and relative stability in tough economic times.

Divorce is by far the biggest loss of them all. I've lost my constant companion--the person who was my best friend for 20 years--and my money (again). I will lose the home and garden I lovingly created and tended for ten years. The list goes on.

Even in the midst of my pain and grief, though, I can see the beauty in life and my fellow travelers. And it is in this spirit that I offer a few words of loving advice to those who are watching a friend or family member go through a divorce or breakup. These are the divorce FAQs, and I hope they help you support that special person in your life who is suffering.

1. What should I say to someone going through a divorce? I don't know the right words.

For anyone who is suffering with grief and loss, the most appropriate words are some version of, "This must be so hard for you." Other options along the same vein:

"I'm so sorry for your loss."

"I can't understand what you're going through, but I know you must be hurting."

"I love you so much. I am here for you."

Really, these few little words mean the whole world to your friend. You don't need to say anything other than that.

2. How can I fix it? I feel like I need to offer solutions.

You can't fix it. No one can. If it was fixable, your friend would have fixed it. The person in pain has likely already thought through all of his or her options and must do what seems right in the moment. Support those choices; try your hardest not to question them. Your questions are probably more about you and your curiosity and your need to fix than about helping the person.

Some examples of questions and statements that may cause pain:

"Did you try going to counseling?"

"Did s/he have an affair?"

"You know, you really need to work to understand your part in this."

"You could keep the house/car/kids/furnishings if you would just..."

"Did you do everything you could to save the marriage?"

"I can't believe you can even talk to him/her."

"Why aren't you getting an attorney?"

Remember: even if you've been divorced, you have no idea what it's like to go through this divorce, so your questions and proclamations may sound more like judgments. And do the answers matter anyway? Will they make you love your friend any more or any less?

3. What can I do to make the person feel better? I need to do something.

The best way to help the person is to tell him/her exactly what you can do to help. Offers of any kind of help ("Just tell me what to do.") seem empty, and the person doesn't really know what to do with them. What's more helpful:

"I have a truck, and I'm willing to help you load it up and take things to charity or storage on the weekends."

"I can sit and keep you company for a couple of hours on Monday or Wednesday nights."

"I'd love to walk/ride bikes/go to Zumba class with you. Could we plan to do that every couple of weeks?"

"I'd like to bring you some healthy food you can heat up and eat for a few meals."

In other words, be specific, and be genuine. You may overwhelmed by your friend's grief and unable to offer help. That's OK, too. See FAQ #1.

If you're willing to help, keep offering. It's hard for people in our society to ask for or accept help, and it may take a few times for the person to feel comfortable taking you up on your offer. One-time offers may be forgotten or not taken seriously, so keep it up.

4. Why is s/he still sad? It's been a while since it happened.

"A while" is a relative term when someone is experiencing grief and loss. Grief is a nonlinear process, meaning it does not follow a certain path. Each person grieves in a different way, and for a different amount of time. And even when the person seems to be "over it," s/he may experience a sense of extreme loss months or years later. This may show up as sadness, or anger, or depression.

Your friend may be really happy one day and despondent the next. Be patient. Be kind. Be loving. This is a really hard thing for your friend to go through, and the process doesn't just end one day. Some words to use to help normalize your friend's feelings:

"Sometimes grief can really take you by surprise."

"I'm so sorry that day/season/experience/anniversary was a trigger for your grief. It's totally understandable."

Your friend needs your love and support right after the breakup and for the weeks and months that follow. S/he will be suffering in unpredictable ways for an unpredictable amount of time, so reach out when you can just to ask how things are going. You're busy with your own life, and your friend understands that, but when you check in by emailing, calling, or sending a card, it means more than you'll ever know.