Six Lessons I Learned From My Six-Month Marriage

The first time I thought about divorcing my ex-husband was on the day I married him. As I walked up the aisle to ‘You’re So Cool’ by Hans Zimmer, from the film, True Romance, I could feel the heat of a nervous rash creep down my arms towards my bouquet. Years later, someone said it looked like an allergic reaction. I think it was.

Behind a frozen smile, I thought, ‘This has a 50/50 chance of working out.’ I looked at Mum, who’d assured me, days before, that if I had doubts, I didn’t have to go through with it. I did have doubts, but I also had hope. And, I felt it would be easier to get divorced than ditch the wedding. People had flown in. I would look flaky. It would be especially humiliating for Ed*. Best to leave later, quietly, with no one watching.

Ed’s wild grin at the top of the aisle thawed that frozen smile into near-hysterical giggles. It was the same wild grin I fell for across my desk, four years earlier. Ed could make me cry-laugh with a single glance from his glacier-blue eyes. He could make me cry-weep minutes later, with another. There was a lawlessness to Ed’s moods.

I was 28 when Ed and I got married. I don’t think I ever pressured him to, but he once punched a hole in our wall believing otherwise. That was red flag number . . . I’d lost count by then. I didn’t want to bring up the marriage chat, because I was scared I’d push him away. And, with the engagement circus starting among my friends, I feared going back to the start. Being single, as I approached 30.

So what if Ed punched a hole in the wall? I could calm him down. So what if he once abandoned me as I was being mugged by monkeys in Sri Lanka? I wasn’t as scared, I told myself, as 5 foot 1 me defended our groceries, and 6 foot 4 Ed legged it to safety without looking back to see if I was okay. I forgave his auto-response to self-preserve. But I didn’t forget it. Weren’t we supposed to be a team?

Despite these and other stories, Ed had qualities that hooked me from the second we met. He laughed easily. He was hilarious, magnetic, loud, lovable and he lit up every room he entered. But he was also volatile and mysterious. I never shook the feeling he was hiding secrets. He was popular and had many friends, yet he invited no one to our wedding. The only guests there were mine. I never fully trusted him. I never told him.

Six months after walking down the aisle with a twisted stomach, I did what I should have done years before. While Ed was at work, unaware, I packed all my belongings into black bin bags and left.

I don’t regret my first marriage. It was the catalyst I needed to wake up from a relationship that was way past its expiry date. Getting a divorce gave me back control of my life and crushed my irrational fear of being alone. A fear I can now look back on and laugh at. I had spent years jumping from one relationship to another to feel validated as a woman, worthy of love and avoid being single and ‘left on the shelf’ at an age where I worried people would wonder why and what was wrong with me.

So, what did I learn from the experience of getting married and divorced in six months? These six lessons. I hope they offer comfort to those considering it, experiencing it, or fearing it might happen to them one day. Yes, the divorce was difficult. There were tears, heartbreak, therapy and foetal positions on the floor. But, through my blurred eyes and my broken heart, I knew it was the best decision for us both.

1. Remember that divorce is a fix, not a fail

At times, I was my worst bully. I told myself that I was weak for sticking it out for just six measly months. In time, I was my best friend. Now, I applaud me, for extracting myself from an unhappy relationship that could have stolen even more time from the one precious life I have. My divorce ended my marriage, and mended me, making me stronger, more confident and with a new sense of self-belief.

2. Keep a reminder of why the relationship ended

For a while afterwards, moments of panic would swell inside me that I’d made a terrible mistake. The anxiety would be triggered by a post on social media. A friend getting engaged, pregnant, or having a baby. I’d freak out, thinking I’d thrown away my chances for that picture-perfect life. When this happened, I would turn to a letter I wrote on the day I left Ed. A list of the reasons why. It rescued me from my low points, many times.

3. When you’re ready, talk about it

At first, I felt ashamed about getting divorced so quickly, so young. I didn’t talk to anyone about it. Slowly, in my own time, I opened up to family, friends, even strangers in bars who probably wished they’d never asked. The more I shared, the more I found people with similar stories. I met someone who’d been married for six weeks! She made me feel like I wasn’t mad, bad - or alone. The more I talked about it, the faster I healed. There is no shame in fixing a forgivable and common mistake.

4. Don’t rush into another relationship

In my typical can’t-be-alone style, I hit the dating scene instantly to distract myself from my new single status. Within weeks, I was in another long-term relationship. It was far too soon. I faked being ready, when I couldn’t be further from it. Despite how fixed I looked on the surface, I was full of cracks inside. I ended up hurting a person I cared about. Take time to reset, find self-love and rediscover how liberating it feels to fly solo, in the pleasure of your own company - or with friends. You have no one to answer to! Travel whenever, wherever you want! Eat what you like! Slob out on the sofa all day without a judgmental stare from across the room! Treasure your freedom.

5. Forgive them - but mostly yourself

I couldn’t help feeling like I was to blame for the breakdown of our marriage, because I was the one who ended it. I’ll never forget Ed’s crumpled face on the day that I left. I was a cold, emotionally-void monster. As became my healing habit, I took out my letter to remind myself of the huge part that his wild and erratic behaviour had played in wearing me down and making our marriage a disaster from the start. I forgave him. And I hope he has forgiven me. But more importantly, I forgave myself. Having the strength to forgive, is the only way you can let go, and move forward with the rest of your life.

6. Happy endings don’t look the same

At 17, my whole life was mapped out. I’d be a city lawyer, have my own house, be married at 25 (so young!) and have three kids by 30. That’s what I imagined happiness to be. At 32, I was on a plane with a one-way ticket from Sydney to London. A divorced copywriter with no home of my own, no kids and the only one of my school friends who was single. But I’m not fishing for pity. I was fizzing with joy. I was doing work that I loved. I was in charge of my destiny. And I was coming home. I imagined myself flying into the sunset on my own as the perfect happy-ever-after for that chapter in my life.

A few months after landing at Heathrow, I was lucky enough to meet someone far better suited to me. The best thing about being older when you meet someone, is that you have more life experience behind you. I could identify the red flags. I was brave enough to listen to my gut. And I had finally learnt it was better to be single, than with the wrong person - so I didn’t rush into anything.

Four years later, we are married and expecting our first baby. My husband, Chris, is someone I trust implicitly, and who makes me feel secure, happy and excited about our future together, not fearful of it. We are a true team. Chris would kick a monkey to the high sky if he suspected for a second, I was in danger. Just kidding. He’d probably distract it with a bag of peanuts and a pat on the back.

I don’t regret my six-month marriage, because every choice I made back then has led me to here and now. But, if I had to offer my younger self some advice, it would be this. Stop ignoring your gut, when it tells you it’s not right. Stop comparing yourself to others. And stop speeding towards the finish line of an imaginary life race. It doesn’t really exist.

Helly’s debut novel The Shelf is out now , Zaffre, £12.99

*Some names have been changed to protect the privacy of individuals.

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