It's D Day

That was the text message I received yesterday afternoon from a dear, childhood friend.

"It's D Day!  Come help me celebrate with dinner and drinks after work."

It would be GNO in honor of her big D.  Her divorce was final yesterday.  She'd been looking forward to this day for the last ten years or so, waiting patiently for her third son to graduate from high school.  Less complicated.  No strings.  A nice, clean break to begin her life all over again.

I have to say that her pending divorce has been good for her.  I hadn't seen her for several months, and she looked amazing.  Happier, healthier, younger.  There was life in her eyes, a glimpse of the girl/woman I knew so many years ago.  It was shouting obvious.  I almost wanted to stare.

She'd just returned from the beach, helping chaperon her son's senior trip with a few other moms.  She was tanned, she'd dropped about 30 lbs, and she'd let her hair grow back to its natural medium chestnut brown color, emphasizing her beautiful blue-green eyes.  She was wearing a short, white, cotton sheath, slightly fitted, showing off her new slender body; white sandals, and a smile the size of Texas.

There were five of us that were able to make it to the celebration dinner.  We talked and laughed and toasted and drank and ate for almost three hours.  I decided to order a Greek salad with grilled shrimp, and red wine.  (Of course, red wine-- so predictable, I am!)  I felt a little out of place, considering I was the only married woman among the crowd.  I couldn't help but notice that their mindsets, their focus seemed so much different from mine----or maybe I should call it a lack of focus.  Capricious.  I sensed an undercurrent of insecurities, some more than others.  There seemed to an overall exaggerated watchfulness to the comings and goings of our surroundings, thus the muddled focus.

Curiously, I couldn't help but notice that even though we were all roughly the same age, the other women -- my newly divorced friend the exception -- had not aged quite as gracefully, I'll say?  I'll call it "rough edges" and leave it there.  I attributed it to a lack of self-awareness, responsibility to self.  Living life in the carefree zone a tad too long perhaps?

I was taking notes in my head; it was hard not to.  The contrast.  These were HER friends, acquaintances to me, women I might not run into but for our mutual friend.  They seemed to all have a far different agenda than I.  There was a sense of brazenness that I wasn't completely comfortable with -- did I really just say that?  I must have seemed somewhat boring to them, no doubt.  But from my inward perspective, it was liberating.  I felt exonerated in a way.

I listened to my friend talk about "then,"and "now," and what now...all with that sparkle in her eye.  A direct contrast from the tired and weary dialogue we'd shared in times past when we'd meet for dinner to catch up on each other's lives.  It was as if I was talking to a completely different woman.  In a word, extraordinary.  The burden and sadness had lifted.  Pieces of her had died over the last several years, and the pain in her face told the whole story.  I can't believe she waited so long to take control and make the changes necessary to make her feel whole and alive again.  So many years in a dormant, stale existence.  Although in her defense, she could not have survived on her own financially had she left those many years ago.  She had spent most of her married life being a stay-at-home mom, had developed no particular marketable skills for gainful, independent employment, especially with three sons to raise ... until now.

At about two and a half hours in, I announced I needed to get going.  I gave my friend a fierce hug and congratulated her one final time, then I said my goodbyes to everyone, promising to stay in touch so that we could all get together for a shopping weekend soon.   I paid my bill, and I left the restaurant.

The air was warm, the sun hanging on. It was a beautiful summer evening.  I wanted to go home, change clothes, and take a walk.  I wanted quiet time to reflect on what I'd just witnessed...and to reflect on my own life.  I felt a renewed sense of gratefulness for my life, my blessings.  I'm content with who I am as a person, standing alone, a life of character building, defined not by a dependence on others, for what they can give to me or provide for me.  I have never depended on that restless stamp of approval from others.  I make no excuses.  I am who I am without justification.  That sense of self-sufficiency, I think, has been my lifeboat over the years.

I'm hoping that my friend will take the time to feel comfortable in her own skin, alone and unteathered for a while.  I hope she allows time for introspection, to get reacquainted with herself, who she is standing alone, not as defined by a title, like "wife" or "mom."  She has a chance to totally reinvent herself, rebuild her courage and inner strength by learning how to first stand alone.  I pray that her choices will not cause her to lose sight of this opportunity.