It Was a Big Mistake to Wait This Long to Date After Divorce

I was ridiculously nervous.

“I’m literally sick to my stomach,” I say to my friend.

She laughs.

“Oh my gosh you’re too funny,” she says.

“I’m not kidding,” I say. “I think I waited way too long to date after divorce. I am putting way too much pressure on myself. I mean, what’s the big deal? We’ve been dating since we were 16 so why am I a wreck?”

My friend does her best to talk me down.

“I’m not sure I want to go,” I say. “But I want to go.”

Clearly, I’m making no sense.

I’m supposed to be meeting a guy I already know.

Shouldn’t that make it easier?

But it’s actually making me more nervous. I’ve sworn off men for a really long time. My divorce was finalized five years ago and the divorce itself was overly extreme and long.

I’ve had no real desire to date.

I’ve turned down really nice good guys.

I used to tell my kids I’d throw my body across the altar if they got married. It’s an obvious joke laced with some real-life terror. It wasn’t the divorce.

Just like people have been dating since we were 16 they’ve been breaking up.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal.

A divorce should equal a breakup.

Unless you divorce a man who’s furious you’ve left him. Who makes you pay in ways you never thought possible. Who punishes you until you barely have the strength to pick yourself up.

No man seems safe after that.

No dating risk seems worth it.

Trust doesn’t come easily anymore and entanglement doesn’t seem as appealing. You question your own judgment. How do you know a good man from a bad one?

As the day progresses, so does my anxiety.

My best guy friend from high school calls me.

“It’s about time,” he says.

My friends think I should have started dating years ago.

“I’m ridiculously nervous,” I say.

“What are you talking about?” he says. “I’ve known you practically your whole life. You’re the most social person I know.”

“I know,” I say. “But this guy caught me off guard. He actually makes me nervous because I didn’t think I could be attracted to someone again.”

We talk a little bit more.

I want to know my friend’s perspective since he divorced a few years ago.

I want to know if he was nervous as a man dating.

I’m relieved when he tells me he was. Because he is also the most social person I know. He can go anywhere and talk to anyone. If he is worried about the awkwardness that goes along with dating again, I’m not a unicorn.

I’m not alone.

My other friend texts me.

“Just go out and be yourself,” he says.

“The restaurant isn’t the only awkwardness I’m talking about,” I say.

“Probably for him too,” he says. “Eventually, you will have to decide whether to move into a convent or do something that you think is awkward.”

His words make me laugh.

He isn’t wrong.

I have to let go of the inner voices.

The promise that I would never date in this body until I lost the entire amount I gained during my abusive divorce. The pledge that I would never trust a man again. The personal oath that I will never get married again.

The insistence that I don’t need a man.

I’m glad I waited to date.

But I waited too long.

I shouldn’t have jumped into dating with my post-divorce drama. But I shouldn’t have put this much distance between resisting the idea of enjoying the future.

It didn’t have to be all or nothing.

I could have continued to heal. I could have just had fun. I could have made sure I didn’t attract myself to the same type of guy. I could have just made some new friends.

Instead, I made excuses…

“I don’t want anything long-term.”

“I don’t want to go out with this extra weight.”

“I’m just not ready.”

But then I met a guy who made me a little nervous.

One I found myself thinking about.

Believe me, it surprised even me.

I thought I was dead inside. I thought I allowed my ex-husband to throw out the girl who was naively trusting enough to believe in people, especially another man.

I shouldn’t have been so black and white.

I shouldn’t have closed the doors to the future.

I shouldn’t have jumped on Bumble just to jump off.

Because this guy did me a favor.

He freed me from the last bit of my lingering past, something I didn’t realize was still encumbering me. I thought it was ‘my choice’ not to date. I thought it was ‘my decision’ to avoid men.

It wasn’t.

My ex-husband was still holding onto me.

I won’t be joining the convent.