Security vs. boredom: Since your divorce, what do you miss about marriage—and what don’t you? Every farewell has its bright and dark sides.
The Little Things
I miss our silly puns that only my ex-husband and I appreciated. Our inside jokes that only we understood. How a half-smile or a nod said it all, and we communicated almost without words. I wonder if I’ll ever find someone who understands me like that again—and that makes me sad. Still, I don’t regret the divorce because we wanted different things from life, which caused constant tension. Since I moved out, it feels like an annoying static noise stopped or the suffocating pressure lifted: I can finally breathe.
Stirred Still Waters
As a woman, I loved the security marriage gave me. No matter what happened, my husband was there to fix it because that’s who he was. He never panicked, I never saw him lost or anxious—always calm and efficient. Since the divorce, I feel like I’ve stepped into adulthood for the first time. I can’t call him when things go wrong; I have to handle everything myself. That’s scary sometimes, but I don’t regret it. My calm ex was actually one of the most boring people in the world, and I would’ve gone crazy with the monotony. I’d rather face uncertainty than endless nothingness.
Together, Yet Apart
I miss the feeling of belonging. My ex and I seriously believed in the "us against the world" vibe—at least at first. Then she found someone else, and now it’s just the two of them against the world. But that’s not the point. What I miss most is belonging to someone and having someone belong to me. Now I’m here alone, like a lone finger. What I don’t miss is the constant jealousy, which—unfortunately—turned out to be justified.
Give and Take
I miss being able to call someone my husband. Society looks at single women with a mix of pity and judgment, and divorced women are almost stigmatized. When I was married, I fit into the accepted part of the population; now, I feel a bit cast out. What I don’t miss is living with someone who did nothing besides leave messes, dirty dishes, and piles of laundry. I feel so much lighter since I stopped living in a pigsty.
A Mismatched Match
My ex and I shared many tastes—we loved the same movies, listened to the same music, and constantly recommended books to each other. I miss chatting about a concert on the way home or discussing a movie in bed afterward, pointing out details the other missed. I miss her enthusiasm when she talked about a book I suggested. What I don’t miss is the constant fighting. We never learned to live together, and that was a constant source of conflict. It’s sad—actually tragic—that two people with so much in common couldn’t sync.
Extremes
I miss my ex-wife’s sexy laugh, passionate sex, sultry dance, irresistible charm, and wild, unique personality. But now I know this brilliance had a shadow side: fierce jealousy, sudden rage, tantrums, tears, and hurtful words. My ex-wife is bipolar and refuses to seek help. I had to let go because staying would have destroyed us both.
