Are You the Odd One Out in a World of Married Friends?
“It’s finally over,” I sighed as I stood on the front porch of my ground-floor apartment, looking at the closed door, trying to figure out whether I had stepped out or was just getting home.
The calm you’ve never experienced in decades can do this to you, you know, numb your feelings.
I heard the birds chirping at a distance, as if they had come to keep me company. It took me a moment to figure out it was my ringtone. And the sudden realization of the breath of life jerked me out of the peace that had dawned on me. The clinking of keys on the floor landed just in time to match the papers slipping from the folder in my right hand as I tried to grab my phone out of my artistic looking tote bag, one of my Amazon Great Indian Festival finds.
Spam Call… my phone screen lit up red and clear.
Well, someone never really forgets to ping me, do they?
It took me a few days to step out of the numbness. Again, sleepless nights, but this time it was different - no tightness in my chest leaving me breathless, no butterflies in my stomach making me fear for my life. I guess, over the years of being in survival mode, I had forgotten what it felt like to fall asleep as soon as I hit the bed. I was always tired but not too tired to sleep. Ever known that feeling?
People who have seen you go through the struggles of separation and divorce think “Chalo, you can move on now.”
Yes, I can. But moving on after divorce doesn’t have an auto-switch button that triggers the moment you complete the level - mission divorce accomplished. It’s a process. A baby-steps kind of process, indeed.
Divorce is just the closure one needs to put away the book we had been reading, rereading for years without knowing how it would end. So, what’s next on the cards? Moving on with your life, believing everything is back to normal? Or completing the healing process that’s usually slow and… slow. There's no finish line on grieving and healing, you know.
Why Friendships Change After Divorce
Well, whatever the choice, one thing that looks you in the face, which no one really talks about, is this - you’re now the single friend in a world of married friends. Outings become awkward. The ‘kabab mei haddi’ wali dinner dates, the ‘you guys go ahead, I’ll join you in sometime’ wali trick to let the couple have their time together.
If you’re thinking, “Ouch, it hurts to be alone, doesn’t it?”
Honestly, what hurts is that your friends are still there. Your timelines just don’t match anymore.
Like for me, my children have grown up. The morning school rush, the tiffin menu planning, the PTM schedules, the annual day dress rehearsals, the exam stress, the late-night study vigils, the sports class chaos - been there done that. In the blink of an eye, I will be an empty nester.
Some of my friends are still figuring out why their child had a meltdown in the middle of a crowded mall. Or why their child catches every seasonal infection. Why is their partner on a silent-treatment program? Or they are busy planning the next holiday, trying to get their favourite destination, this time without putting up a fight.
There’s the early-morning hustle, juggling work and home, and managing to show up for tea parties or dinners with other coupled friends. They have their plates full too. They’re tired too, but they go back home to someone who shares the chaos.
No complaints there. I stand by my choice. Still, feeling left out by married friends does make me feel lonely sometimes. I pick up the phone, stare at the contact list for like eternity, then shut the screen and get back to doing what I am best at: writing or reading… or Netflix.
There is no easy way to say this, but yes, sometimes I do feel lonely.
Moving Forward and Building a New Life
And c’mon, ‘be positive’ is the worst advice to give to your divorced friends. Staying positive is not going to make them feel alive. Being inclusive would.
The process of divorce was painful, yet I could call my friends at 2 a.m., 3 a.m., or 4 a.m. without overthinking because I knew my call would be answered in an instant. And they proved me right, every single time. It was only after that that things seemed different.
Not because my friends love me any less. The relief of endings and a fresh start was shared in equal intensity. The happy sigh in their voices made me realize the worst was behind me now.
And whoosh, the next morning I wake up, and life has gone back to its OG format, as if someone reset the emotional software, just for their fun.
‘Let’s catch up’ becomes a loop of never-ending ‘next week’ texts. Late-night calls fade into the darkness. Daytime calls are now quicky ‘remembering you’ calls - the ‘do-minute mei Maggi tayaar’ types. And it's not like my family and friends don’t care. They do. But, moving on, moving forward, I guess it's not just for the one who was suffering or struggling. It’s for the entire tribe who has your back.
But knowing that I might be the odd one out at close gatherings sucks big time!
So, as much as I miss going out with my friends, I realise it won’t always be possible to fit into their tangled schedules. Piecing my life together might take a little while, but that doesn’t mean I cannot learn to do things alone.
Long drives, joining a quirky kitty group, a chai-date with myself, and silly networking meets - just for the fun of being in the company of total strangers. Now that’s what I call stepping into my post-divorce badass era.
With every tick I mark on my list of things that I’ve always wanted to try but never could, I make room for the woman I am proud to be.
