Once Upon a Time, I Bounced Back From Tragedy…

While I’m no McBeth, my tragedy has been no less painful. I never thought it would be possible to bounce back from two “uncouplings” in twenty years, but here I am, still standing. Though it was tough, and I took it on the chin many times, I got up and kept it pushin’.

The word tragedy might seem too strong for something all too common, like divorce (“uncoupling” in the parlance of marriage counselors) when some 50% of marriages end within the first ten years. Unfortunately, however, divorce can feel like the end of the world for those who’ve been through it.

The first time at the end of the last century, I felt like I had been hit by a sledgehammer and didn’t know how to pick myself up and keep going. Beset by the three witches — lawyers, accountants, and courts. It was a witches’ brew of judgment, torment, and financial blood, letting over 15 years I thought would never end.

On a related note, buckle up with the latest SCOTUS ruling on reproduction rights; it will be a bonanza for attorneys specializing in family law, and swamped family courts, the household and child poverty rate will explode. The Kraken has been unleashed. Stevie could have seen this coming back in 2009 when Justices RBG and Kennedy didn’t retire during either of Obama’s Presidencies. He could have appointed two Justices who had more runway. All other things holding steady, the court would have remained 5:4 conservative, but with Chief Justice Roberts floating in the middle, trying to keep balance. SCOTUS would have been 5:4 with a progressive majority if the appointment of Merrick Garland had not been blocked.

However, in January 2009 progressives were either too drunk on the magical thinking of a “post-racial society” or too lazy, shortsighted, or terrified to keep pressing their advantage. At the same time, conservatives continued to arm up in plain sight. However, conservatives believe they’ve had a great victory but have actually only served to accelerate their own demise by about 10–15 years; remember, you read it here first. But, I digress; all that is for another essay, back to the Kraken in my timeline.

It was merciless, and in my time entangled in its tentacles, it is the one experience that has been a commonality of experiences of men across income brackets and races. Over the years, having blue-collar, mostly white men come into my home to fix a dishwasher, replace a water heater, stop/replace a leaky faucet or replace a toilet, the one thing we would get around to discussing was the end of marriages and the court system. Wooo, the stories were all the same. They all needed to finish up their work at my place and be on the road headed to the Ex’s by 6pm on a Friday. So while there are legitimate horror stories about deadbeat dads, in my quarter-century of engaged with “uncoupled” men with children working in my home, they’ve been diligent about being where they needed to be, Kraken or not.

In my case, I was fortunate that friends and family were there for me, easing the pain. In the end, when it was official, I called my dad at 4am, hot. He was traveling on business, but he talked with me for over two hours, droppin’ knowledge and wisdom on me well after sunrise and calming me down. I talked with my lawyer the following day and told her what my father had to say, and she said to me, “Your father is a wise man; yes, let it go and move on with your life, rebuild your book.” However, it would be a good 15 more years of day-to-day impact. But on the “come-back,” love conquers all, right?

Because in the mid-point of that 15 years, I realized I could love and marry again. But the hammer dropped again just around that 10-year statistical average. So the second time, even though I saw it coming, it still hurt; it was the yang of love.

However, after a good four decades on the love stage, I can say without equivocation that no matter how dark and painful things may seem in the moment, they always pass eventually. Time is the best healer, not as fast as I would like, but what is several years in grand scheme?

Some might read these lived experiences and think I’m unlucky in love. But I don’t see it that way. Yes, the end of planned long-term romantic partnerships ended, but that doesn’t mean failure. Instead, it has given me eternal hopefulness in the gift of love. So, yes, love can be a double edge sword. But, even though love has cut me both ways, I am a stronger and more compassionate person for having made it through those cuts.

Despite everything I went through, including the end of the most recent post-uncoupling relationship, it came to me that I could do a third round, which is what I have been telling my friends for the past year. Several of whom are all men of a certain age who’ve been around the marriage block at least once and are active in the romance marketplace.

It doesn’t matter because, as one of them told me recently, love is a blessing and a miracle, so when it comes to you, be ready to receive it, let it surround and embrace you. Live and love in the moment, as another friend, a woman of a certain age, recently told me, “It always takes two yeses” for a relationship to endure.

Her insight aligned perfectly with those of a mid-40-something Lantix brotha I recently met and had a great conversation with while in the Chi. He was dating a woman a good 20 years his junior, with a seven-year-old daughter who was both crazy about him. He said that if one day she wanted to leave, he knew he couldn’t make her stay [it takes two yeses], but if she only gave him a good six years of love, then that would be his miracle, his gift. They were in year four of their relationship, and everything sounded fantabulous; I was happy for him.

When I share and hear the “oneness” in the stories between myself and those of random strangers, I am reminded that going through tough times is a universal human experience, and so is bouncing back.

Ultimately, I am grateful for every hardship I’ve been through because they have made me a better person. Living through them, an more are coming, have given me more empathy for others, and allowed me to see just how tempered the fires of the witches’ cauldron have made me. If I could go back and change anything, I wouldn’t.

Because in learning from and bouncing back from the pain, I walk in and savor those times when I can walk in joy.

Series Essay 02of 25–07.13.22

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This post was previously published on MEDIUM.COM.

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You may also like these posts on The Good Men Project:

White Fragility: Talking to White People About Racism

Escape the “Act Like a Man” Box

The Lack of Gentle Platonic Touch in Men’s Lives is a Killer

What We Talk About When We Talk About Men

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