Being an only child, I learned to be my own company when I was a kid. And over the years, I’ve really gotten to know myself. I can be pretty hard-headed at times. Stubborn, too. And sometimes I argue with myself.

Well, I just had a little internal argument. [Side note: good part about it is that I always win!] Part of me wanted to write this entry and the other part didn’t. I don’t know if logic won me over, or if it was really just the overwhelming pressure of having absolutely nothing else of interest to write about. Not that I’m entirely sure that this is going to be interesting.

Anyway, as I said, I didn’t know whether to write about this particular topic. By writing this post, I acknowledge that my past is still partially my present. To discuss this — in an open forum, no less — brings back long-forgotten memories. Memories that I have hidden and memories that have hidden themselves. But I believe in being an open book; that’s what works best for me. So here we go.

Yesterday would have been my 4th wedding anniversary. To be 23 years old and use the phrase “4th wedding anniversary” in reference to myself is mind-blowing enough; the addendum “would have been” before said phrase is even more difficult to believe. Because I am not a widow, but a divorcée.

Divorcée is such an unsavory word. In fact, I do not use it to describe myself. Not because I have a problem with my civil status, but more because of the connotation carried by any variation of the word “divorce”.

I am a pretty non-judgmental person. They say “live and let live”, and I really do live my life and let others live theirs. I’m a vegan, but I won’t ask you not to eat meat in my presence. I am pro-choice, but fully support your right to be pro-life. I am pro-legalization of drugs, but understand and respect opinions to the contrary. The list goes on. Point being, I live my own life and don’t worry about how others live theirs.

It’s not an effort on my part to not care. It’s just me, I think. Which is why I find it difficult to understand why people take such an interest in judging me. Not that it bothers me that much, to be honest. But I find it interesting that people waste their time and energy thinking about something that’s really none of their business.

The second the word “divorced” leaves my mouth for the first time, people react. Of course they do. I am 23, and that is young to be divorced. But then the conclusions get jumped-to and, unfortunately, many people think they know my whole story from just that one word:

“Were you too young?”
–> Uh, no I wasn’t, thank you.
“Oh, then were you pregnant when you got married?”
–> Again, no. I actually got married because I was in love.
“Oh, then what happened? Did the bastard cheat on you?”
–> Well, no. And if he had, that’s probably not your business.

After we get through the initial exchange, the next phase is postulation on my mental health:

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
–> Well, actually, I’m quite fine with my situation. But thank you.
“Yes, yes, but you must regret having married so young.”
–> Again, no! If I went back to age 19, knowing exactly how it would turn out, I would do it all over again. I loved, I lost, I learned. I grew up, and I’m thankful for the experience.
“Really?? But don’t you hate being alone again?”
–> Nope. I love it. There’s a lot of freedom to enjoy. And, besides, I’m not alone.

Those are the basics. It kind of irritates me, but only because I swear that I’ve had this conversation 52 million times (that may be a slight exaggeration). Honestly, my divorce is no one’s business but my own, and if I feel like sharing, I will.

So here’s the sharing. I’m okay! I’m happy, healthy, and I’ve (mostly) moved on. Yes, of course I still think about Luke. He was a big part of my life for a big part of my lifetime. I miss him sometimes, too. Not the best husband, but he was usually a good friend to me. Certain times, I will hear something, see something, or smell something, and I will think of him… something we heard, saw, or smelled together. Because 5 1/2 years (we did date before we got married!) is a lot of time to spend with any one person.

But this does not mean that I am not over him? No. Unfortunately, I think that I was over him long before we ever separated. I loved him, but was not in love with him, and that’s a sucky place to be. But again, I’ve learned a lot about myself and how I function in relationships. I learned about what works for me, and what doesn’t. I learned about my weaknesses and strengths. And, in divorce, I learned about self-sufficiency, maturity, and responsibility.

So, as I sit here in my bed on my first of many future July 27ths without Luke, I’m reflecting. Reflecting on who I was before I got married, who I became while I was married, and who I am now. Because, despite the sadness that a failed marriage causes, I have found my silver lining. Wait, scratch that: the lining is pure platinum.