A few years back, when I was going through a divorce, I suffered from a lack of confidence and direction. But I never suffered from a lack of advice. See if any of what I heard sounds familiar to you.
“You have to work on it. All marriages have their ups and downs."
“Life is too short to be stuck in an unworkable marriage."
“It will be tough on the kids. All kids want their parents to stay together."
“Kids are resilient. And they want their parents to be happy."
“Work it out for the sake of the family. Where there’s a will, there’s a way."
“You’re not tearing a family apart. You’re just reorganizing the players."
Some people, like friends and relatives, cared deeply about me and my situation. Others, like neighbors and colleagues, gave advice based on their own positive or negative experiences. Still others, like relationship gurus I contacted via e-mail, or professionals I consulted with in person, were just doing their job.
Back then, I was hungry for attention and empathy. I had lost my bearings and wanted my life to make sense again. Going through a divorce was painful—it felt like having my skin ripped off. I suddenly found it hard to focus on the simplest of tasks, much less make important life decisions. Having others offer workable solutions that might ease my pain, played like a siren song.
But there was a downside to the advice mill as well. The counsel often sounded contradictory and confusing. Because I was torn inside between what I wanted to do and what I thought I should do—and because each piece of conflicting advice seemed to contain some kernel of truth—I wasn’t quite sure what to believe, much less what to act on. The advice pleased some part of me all of the time, and all of me some of the time. But no one piece resonated with all of me all of the time.
According to Lenard Marlow, divorce mediation expert and author of The Two Roads to Divorce , (Xlibris, 2003), it is common for both parties going through a divorce to attract plenty of advice-givers. He’s dubbed these folks the “Greek Chorus of well-wishers" —all those people who, from the sidelines of your divorce, offer each of you advice, and encouragement while urging you on.
In ancient Greek theatre , such a chorus helped the audience make sense of the performance. The chorus commented on themes, showed how an ideal audience might react to the drama, and even revealed fears or secrets the main characters could not say aloud.
Just as the Greek chorus of old was there to help, your very own modern day Greek Chorus means well, too. But as Mr. Marlow cautions, “To mean well and to do well is not one in the same thing." In his book, he goes on to explain why listening to such well-intended information from your Greek Chorus can result in lots of trouble.
Marlow warns that half the messages sent your way are filled with misinformation or misdirection—and that includes messages from well-meaning professionals. (I can vouch for that; the counselors we sought out—both while attempting to “save" our marriage, and later on when working to dissolve it—offered a variety of approaches and fix-ups that conflicted with each other. Clearly, the contrary solutions could not all have been correct. At least not for us.)
Then, too, Marlow says, some members of your Greek Chorus will clamor to warn each of you about scarcity. In cautionary tones, they’ll tell you to begin stockpiling your assets and stashing your cash ASAP. To support their case, they may even tell you disastrous tales of friends, colleagues or clients who became bankrupt, dependant or destitute when they did not act fast enough in your own behalf. But these warnings will only serve to heighten your fears—something you do not need.
Most people are largely unaware that their thoughts and actions—including advice-giving habits—come from a need to support the stories they tell themselves. One way your Chorus does this is by offering you advice that helps their own stories make sense to them. They will “justify their advice" by claiming they are only looking out for your best interests. But, they aren’t always even aware of your best interests. Instead, they speak in ways designed to support and protect their own stories—and those have little or nothing to do with your best interests at all.
So what’s a divorcing person to do?
• Start by understanding that when going through divorce—or any emotional crisis for that matter—it is just plain human to want to reach out for comfort and support. Know, too, that it is especially gratifying if the words you hear back corroborate the story you’re already been telling yourself about your situation. Whether your story is one of blame and shame, or responsibility and self-reliance, you will be tend to believe messages that resonate with what you’ve already been telling yourself is true for you.
• Listen—really listen—to the story you tell yourself about your divorce and why it’s taking place. Write it down. Have the guts to realize that your story—no matter how rock solid true it seems—is just your thoughts as filtered through your own perception. Know that your perception (like everyone else’s—including that of your Greek Chorus) is inherently flawed because it is limited. You are just one person with one point of view. Even if every word of the story you tell yourself is true for everyone involved, it’s only one small part of a much larger picture.
• Instead of judging your story (a complete waste of time) notice where you tend to place blame or shame and where you take appropriate responsibility for your own contribution.
• Ignore any and all “should" statements. Do pay attention to words suggesting you (and your partner) know what is best for you—because you do. Underneath it all you are resourceful, strong and resilient. Despite a limited perspective, you really do have all the answers inside.
• As you begin to see yourself as the expert on you and your situation (after all, who else lives in there with you but you?) stop trying to please your Greek Chorus. Instead of listening to every random voice that comes along, choose to consciously learn your way through the pain. Get straight on what you want—even if what you want is to learn more—and then make informed decisions from there.
In the words of Lenard Marlow, “Despite your hurt, despite your anger, despite all of the other feelings that tend to overwhelm you, you would still very much like to do the right thing."
Trust your own voice. Look for points of agreement within yourself and with your partner. Support yourself from the inside out. Seek help and advice committed to supportive solutions that protect both sets of interests. And then, to your own self be true.
Mary Beth Spann is a writer and single mom of two teenagers. She lives and works in Shoreham, NY where she writes books and articles centering on topics related to education, parenting and relationships. In her most delusional state, she fancies herself as the Carrie Bradshaw of Long Island—the “Sex in the Suburbs" writer. She is completing a book titled, How to Divorce a Nice Person without Feeling Guilty: The Shame-free, Blame-free Solution.
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