You see, since September 7 of last year I've been in the process of getting a divorce from my wife of 28 years. Yes, it's as drastic and as torturous and as crazy and as emotionally upending as it sounds. From the start we didn't want it to get ugly. We agreed to mediation. In the end, it was very pragmatic, very grown up and not at all hostile. I think we both ended up in a good place, but for the last year I've kept my head down, hunkered low and didn't rock the boat. I didn't go to any play parties, not really sure how to deal with it all.
I didn't want to blog about what was up. It seemed too much. I went through depressive periods. I couldn't see the end of the process. Hell, just starting the process was hard enough and took a great deal of help and support from my kink-aware therapist, my friends and my family.
As I told a friend: if you eat the same thing for breakfast every day for 28 years—even if it's your favorite food in the whole wide world—and all of a sudden you stop having it there is undoubtedly going to be weirdness, strife and a feeling of confusion. I certainly went through that, in spades.
For economic reasons we cohabited in the same house, which held its own challenges as you might imagine. On September 1 (ironically, the date of my anniversary) of this year my ex moved out and I settled into a new state of being. And on September 19 (the day after my 50th birthday) the judge sealed the deal.
So I thought it was about time to get back to my usual pithy, disclosing self. I'll share more of this new life adventure soon. In the mean time, special thanks to my kids (who don't read this blog but I wanted you all to know they were valuable support), to Erica, to Jada, to Michael & Kate and to Lizzie, whom I couldn't've gone through this without.