Gail Sheehy On Heartbreak And Resolve

The author deals with the moves and changes of a 20-year marriage.

by Gail Sheehy

Yesterday my husband walked into our day-old home, a condo furnished with hundreds of boxes from our former house, and he didn’t smile. Moving isn’t easy.

We had pulled up stakes from a place we loved. Our roots were still raw.

Clay Felker and I have been through many moves. Painful as they were, some of them saved our relationship. One may have saved his life. This year we will celebrate our 20th wedding anniversary, a milestone that amazes friends who had to play Rolodex tag with each of us during the 17 years of our turbulent premarital relationship. We were in diametrically opposing stages of life: Clay led a glamorous existence as the editor of New York magazine and The Village Voice, and had to be on the town night after night courting his first love—New York. I was a struggling freelance writer and divorced single mom who wanted to read bedtime stories to my young daughter. I would move into his imposing apartment, try it for a year, move out. I remember feeling as tiny as an envelope slipped under his door marked “addressee unknown.”

Perverse though it might seem, those moves-out were among the most exciting times in my life. I discovered that I could land on my feet within a few days and in apartments that always had something wonderful to offer. Of the hundreds of women I have interviewed who described moving associated with divorce—even when it meant radical downsizing—most say (in retrospect, mind you) that the benefits in recovered identity and independence made it a peak growing period. In a similar way, I needed to grow before I could fully join my life to Clay’s.

Like all change, moving dredges up strong, often startling emotions: confusion, fear, anger (one spouse is usually less in favor or downright hostile). You give up a familiar structure, and, like a lobster shedding its shell, you are left naked and vulnerable for a time. But I’ve come to believe that we need to shed old shells before they become confining.

 
 
Readers Who Like This Article Also Dig....
 
8 Comments
Print This Post
 Email to a Friend  Email to a Friend
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (No Ratings Yet)
Loading ... Loading ...
facebook_share_icon  Share on Facebook 
Digg  Digg It 
del_icio_us  Delicious 
Newsvine  Newsvine 
StumbleUpon  Stumble 
reddit  Reddit 
8 responses so far

  • 1 Anonymous // Jul 24, 2006 at 4:23 am

    First I apologize for having to say this. Not sure what you did to the little fella. You some how stripped him of his pride. Or possibaly he never had any. As well a strong hinting that some one has robbed his testicles.I will put my name to my comment to counted. If not planning to stand-by go home to Mom. that is leveal at which childish stories are to remain. Someone had to tell you

  • 2 Nancy // Jul 12, 2006 at 8:28 am

    To all who think this piece is boring, apparently you haven’t lived yet. Wait until you’re in your 40’s on up and experienced life to some degree and you will empathize with Gail.

  • 3 Lauren // Jul 3, 2006 at 11:33 pm

    I was very excitted to see an article by Gail, she is a fantastic freelance writer, and I think more people can relate than commented.

    She has done amazing works on the stages of life…quite frankly, I enjoyed the read.

  • 4 Anonymous // Jun 28, 2006 at 7:25 pm

    It’s a cute piece. But I belive labling it as a relection on her experiences during 20 years of marriage sets the reader up for more than is delivered. I was looking for something to take away other than - change can be good.

  • 5 Anonymous // Jun 24, 2006 at 6:27 pm

    When I want to hear about my grandmother’s life, I’ll call her. What drivel.
    •  
    Read All 8  Comments on Gail Sheehy On Heartbreak And Resolve
 
Name:
Mail:
Website:
Comment: