I wasn’t too surprised to hear Maria kicked The Governator to the curb or that they had announced a separation, depending on the spin.  I’d always considered Arnold to be an opportunistic narcissist even before he went on to leave the state of California in worse shape than Charlie Sheen’s suite at The Plaza.  This is a man who reportedly used “donations” to fly around the world in a private jet and whose family cars are Hummers, all the while posing as an environmentalist.  A man who commuted the sentence of a political crony’s son sentenced for his involvement in a stabbing murder because, well, “that is what friends do.”  A man who commented about California Assembly Representative Bonnie Garcia, “She’s either Puerto Rican or the same thing as Cuban. I mean, they’re all very hot.”  A man who never dispelled rumors regarding his wandering hands.

As a divorced woman, I suppose I shouldn’t have been all that shocked by the fifties era comments posted by readers all over the internet but I was. 

I guess there are plenty of folks who see a miserable marriage as a lifelong sentence without the possibility of parole.  Women, especially, are supposed to suffer like martyrs for the sake of the kids who presumably don’t notice they live with two people who can’t tolerate each other and haven’t so much as exchanged hello kisses in way over a decade.  Alternative bouts of scolding and harsh criticism with silence and the cold shoulder.  A wonderful role model for a healthy relationship.

I remain perplexed by the Scarlet D. 

Recently, I experienced the “cold shoulder” from a friend who expressed disappointment I didn’t regret my divorce. I really didn’t owe an explanation but shared my kids and I were so much healthier without the dysfunctional stress in our pre-divorce household.

I’ve been thinking about this overwhelming need to disparage anyone whose name has appeared as a petitioner on a divorce summons and I’ve come up with a theory.

There was a great scene in “St. Elmo’s Fire” when Mare Winningham brought Rob Lowe home for a family dinner.  In hushed tones, the table talk turned to an acquaintance diagnosed with “the big C.”  When people hear bad news, they need a buffer, some reassurance they won’t meet a similar fate. The “Did he smoke? Did she get regular colonoscopies?” knee jerk response.

So, if you’re happily married and celebrating your twentieth anniversary, those of us who are divorced raise a glass.  If, like Maria, you’ve decided to maintain your dignity and transition to a perhaps healthier, more fulfilling life, we’re right behind you.  Maybe we can meet for a glass of wine and share stories…

As a society, we need to separate our expectations and fears from the lives of others.  Put aside the rush to judgement in favor of empathy and compassion.

  Divorce is not catching.