Sleeping Solo: One Woman's Journey Into Life After Marriage - Plot & Excerpts
So I did what all courageous, independent, strong women do when such things happen—I curled up into a tiny ball in a corner of my couch and wished piteously for it to all go away. It didn’t, and eight months later, I don’t assume the fetal position all that much anymore. I’ve made peace with some of what happened and kicked some of it to the curb. I’ve figured out how to step around and over marital debris without tripping every time, and learned some new definitions for what it means to be strong and courageous. And because I am a writer, I feel a need to commit this journey to the black-and-white page. I could have waited until I arrived at some kind of destination to begin the writing, and I’m sure the neat-and-tidy part of my soul would have preferred that. But that’s not the message that the words knocking at my door are delivering. They’re telling me that the power lies in speaking now, in writing now while all of this feels very immediate and real and the frothing waters of this particular river are still flowing around my legs. I can do that because this isn’t advice. I’m not trying to tell anyone else how to move on after their marriage ends, gracefully or otherwise. I’m offering up the very personal brushstrokes of my own experience while the painting is still underway. Partly because the words are gushing from my fingertips, insisting on being heard. Partly because it is exactly these intimate bits from other travelers on the road that I most appreciate reading right now.
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