Nobody Brought A Casserole When My Family Died

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My morning started with a friend in tears. Frustrated. Furious. Not at her ex - at the people who love her. Because she reached out for support but left the conversation feeling more alone than before.

That’s not a her problem. That’s a constant failure in how we show up for people going through divorce.

I lived this. I know exactly what it feels like to hear the wrong thing from the right person at the worst possible time.

We know how to support loss. Someone loses a family member, a friend, even a pet - we show up. We offer our condolences. We bring food. We sit in the silence. We check in weeks later because we understand that grief doesn’t have an expiration date. We don’t tell someone who just buried their mother to get over it and look on the bright side.

But divorce? We fumble it. Every time.

And I dare you to tell me it doesn’t look remarkably similar to loss - loss of a companion, a family, an identity, a future you had already mapped out in your head. The hollowness is the same. The restructuring is the same. The waking up and forgetting for a second before it all comes back - that’s the same too.

So why doesn’t it get the same compassion?

Is it because both people are still alive? Because technically a choice was made? Because somewhere deep down we decide they brought it on themselves?

Whatever the reason - we get it wrong. Consistently.

Here is what divorce support actually sounds like most of the time:

You guys seemed so happy together - I did not see it coming. How are you not over it yet? Once the divorce is final you’ll both focus on the kids.That’s just him being him - kind of funny right? You’ll be friends eventually. Co-parenting gets easier.

Every single one of those statements - however well intentioned - lands like gaslighting.

Because what the person hears is: something is wrong with you for still feeling this. You should be further along. Your experience doesn’t match the narrative so your experience must be wrong.

And here’s what nobody tells you about divorce that I will - there is no one narrative. A lot of divorces are not amicable. Former partners don’t talk. They don’t get together for holidays. They don’t become friends. They parallel parent because it’s the only option that keeps the peace. And that is not failure. That is reality for a lot of us.

I know this because I lived it. High conflict divorce. And I got exactly the kind of support I’m describing - well intentioned, completely disorienting. Every conversation left me feeling like I was failing. Like I was doing it wrong. Like the problem was me.

I have never felt that alone in my life.

So I did what a lot of people in this situation do - I pulled back. Kept matters to myself. Not because I didn’t need support but because I had to protect what little mental and emotional bandwidth I had left. I needed every resource available to deal with the actual divorce proceedings. I couldn’t afford to spend what remained pulling myself out of a hole after talking to the people who loved me.

That’s what bad support costs someone. It doesn’t just fail to help. It actively depletes the person who needed you.

What makes divorce uniquely brutal is something I call divorce brain.

Your brain is essentially in shutdown mode - struggling to make decisions, struggling to process information - and your entire future is being decided. You’re signing documents, negotiating assets and custody, potentially preparing court exhibits, all while your nervous system is in crisis. Add children adjusting to a new dynamic. Add a high conflict ex. Add new partners entering the picture. Add the financial drain. Add the loneliness.

And your friend shows up and says why aren’t you over it yet?

It’s not just unhelpful. It’s destabilizing.

So what does real support look like?

Ask. Just ask.

What do you need right now? How can I show up for you so you actually feel seen and supported?

That’s it. That’s the whole framework. Because the answer looks different for everyone.

Sometimes it’s - just listen, don’t fix anything, I need to talk it out. Sometimes it’s - come over, I can’t be alone tonight. Sometimes it’s - I am so angry I don’t know what to do with my body.

For that last one? I have a suggestion for you. Get a box. Fill it with things you don’t need anymore - maybe things from the marriage. Grab a bat. Find an open field. And scream things that shouldn’t be said around people easily offended while you smash every last piece of it.

Sounds extreme but it works every time!

The point is this - divorce is not a breakup. It is the death of a family. The grief is real, the timeline is nonlinear and it belongs entirely to the person living it. Some people move through it quickly. Some people need years. Neither is wrong.

If you want to support someone going through it - approach it exactly the way you would approach any other loss: show up, ask what they need, check on them during the holidays because those hit in ways nobody warns you about. And resist the urge to tell them what it should look or how they should feel.

Be curious. Be present. Lose the your own projections and internet scripts.

Now go be the friend your friend actually needs. Not the one you think they need.

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This blogpost was originally posted here!

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Please note that the blogpost above does not represent the thoughts or opinions of Fresh Start Registry and solely represents the original author’s perspective.