Community Helped Me Through My Post-Divorce Misery
Fourteen years ago, I stood at a crossroads—lost, heartbroken, and unsure how to rebuild
Happy New Year everyone. I’m grateful that you’re here and appreciate you for all the times you read my newsletter last year when you have so many other choices. May you be safe and free from harm, be free of suffering, and be happy and contented throughout 2025.
Dear Friend,
I was devastated when my ex-wife moved out of the apartment we shared fourteen years ago.
Every day for eight years, I had been dedicated to building a future together. But with a few words, all of that fell away. Everything meaningful suddenly felt meaningless.
Even though I saw it coming, one can never fully prepare for such moments. I felt lost, lonely and disoriented.
Until now, I believed love was enough to save our relationship.
Several weeks later, a friend mentioned a program called Divorce and Relationship Recovery. It held weekly meetings at a church two blocks away. Although it sounded perfect for my situation, I was hesitant to attend.
I imagined a group of middle-aged losers coming together to commiserate about our failed relationships and personal shortcomings and worried if I would even be welcomed as a non-Christian.
Thankfully, my fears were unfounded. Everyone was warm and understanding, and on the first night, on my way to the bathroom, I passed by an attractive woman who looked like she "had it together." I felt relieved.
We were divided into groups of eight, each with a group leader. The format was a lecture followed by a group discussion. One of the program leaders or a guest lecturer delivered live lectures, and Henry Cloud and John Townsend, two well-known Christian psychologists, delivered recorded lectures. Books were for sale at the front table, many of which I read over the next two years.
We were encouraged not to date anyone for at least two years and were forbidden from dating anyone in the program. Did I listen? Of course not. I started dating shortly after separation, and within two months, I was having the best sex of my life with a Latin Zumba instructor. It didn’t end well.
At first, I felt uncomfortable, but over time, I began to look forward to the weekly gatherings. They became my Wednesday night ritual. Sharing my stories was healing, and hearing others' left me feeling less alone.
I heard stories of sexless marriages, emotional neglect, cold wars, withholding, codependency, loneliness, fighting, adultery, gaslighting, power struggles, abuse, manipulation, counter-dependency and more.
A woman in my group talked about sexual abuse, influential attorneys, private investigators, and claims of child abuse. She swore she would write a novel if she survived being legally barred from seeing her children.
One woman's husband left her for his true love: kitesurfing. Another woman's ex-husband died in a hang gliding accident shortly after she divorced him.
"I dated my ex-wife three times after divorce," said my group leader one night. He described the same repeating pattern: fall into a relationship, have great sex, and be strung along long enough for him to complete extensive handiwork only to be dumped. By the fourth relationship, he had met a mature woman and was now in a healthy marriage. I wondered how often I'd date my ex-wife before learning my lessons.
I contributed to the discussions through stories of failure and wisdom gleaned from nine years of inner work, which weren't insightful enough to sustain my marriage. At some point, one of the women in my group said, "You are going to do well in your life." Her words felt good, but I didn't share her confidence as a forty-one-year-old whose life was a mess.
Others' stories helped me realize that I wasn't a loser but an ordinary middle-aged man having an ordinary middle-aged experience.
I don't know what I would have done without the community. It helped me to suffer less, be less lonely and recover faster than I would have otherwise. Yet the sadness I felt persisted for two years. I cried as I said goodbye to my ex-wife at her moving-away party. Unbeknownst to me, I was still waiting for her to meet my emotional needs, which she was never capable of, even when we were together.
It was then that I finally let her go.
Today, I understand it takes much more than love to keep a relationship alive and well. And about that attractive woman from that first day? She later confided, "I would have dated you in a hot minute if you had asked me out."
"But what about the no dating policy?" I asked.
"Oh, I wasn't worried about that," she replied.
Keep community,
Ryan
The Creator Retreat 🌳
Fourteen years ago, I stood at a crossroads—lost, heartbroken, and unsure how to rebuild. In a small, supportive community, I began to heal, surrounded by people who understood my struggles and helped me discover the strength within myself.
That experience taught me a profound lesson: when we feel stuck, what we genuinely need isn’t more advice or hustle—it’s a sanctuary, a space to reconnect with ourselves, reflect, and begin again.
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Ryan, your divorce story mirrors mine, as so many of our life ventures do.
When my ex-husband left me (to be a monk...add that to your list), I fell into the arms of community in a different form. I was welcomed into the homes, dining room tables, and guest bedrooms of friends and colleagues around the country who nurtured me back to Self. One of them was a closet dominatrix who told me "welcome to divorce, you're about to have the best sex of your life." Boy, was she right. Choosing not to wait the suggested 6-24 months, I had sex that I didn't know was possible.
And it lacked something. emotional intimacy.
I was raw. broken. vulnerable. all the right ingredients for passionate sex.
4 years later, I met my Hobbit, and he changed all the rules, in all the right ways.
But I never would've met him had I not been embraced by community when I needed healing.
Ryan, your story resonates with me on a deep level. I remember the disorientation and emptiness after my own divorce; it was like the ground had shifted beneath my feet. The idea that love alone could sustain a relationship was a hard one to let go of, but like you, I eventually had to confront that reality. Your journey through the Divorce and Relationship Recovery program highlights the power of community and shared experiences in healing. It's a reminder that we're never truly alone in our struggles.
Thank you for your vulnerable essay.