The undivorce option
What happens when your ex-husband has moved on but you haven't?
When I told the children I was meeting their father for coffee, the youngest, who is 8 and prone to irrational exuberance, leapt on me and asked, “Are you going to get undivorced?”
“Oh, honey, I don’t think so,” I told her gently. “We’re just going to have coffee and talk.” Secretly, however, I was hopeful; I’d been trying to reconcile with him for several months.
Unfortunately, it turned out that my former husband was not interested in an undivorce, but in making our divorce more permanent. He told me he was getting married in the fall.
A brief period of rage followed. Well, OK, perhaps six months is not brief, but personally I think the circumstances called for six years. Eventually, however, I was downgraded from a Category 5 to a Category 2 storm, becoming calm enough to hear the voices of reason all around me, the well-meaning friends and relatives exhorting me to “let go.” Never mind that these people had all been at our wedding, love our four children dearly, and purport to believe that marriage, not divorce, is the foundation of a good society.
I was the problem. I needed to let go of the dream – which my children shared – of a reunited, stronger-at-the-break family. This was conveyed in a variety of cliches, to include, “He was never right for you,” even though (apparently inexplicably) we had been married for 18 years.
Still, I couldn’t let go, and my parents-in-law were to blame. You see, they belong to a rare subset of Homo sapiens that divorces, then reconsiders and marries each other again. Despite having been divorced for three years in their 20s, my former in-laws are approaching their 50th anniversary. The word “undivorced” has been used to describe married couples who live apart, perpetually separated. But that’s not accurate, since these couples do not actually divorce. The real undivorced are my former in-laws, and couples like them. And I couldn’t help but want to join their ranks.
I’d seen a sign that said, “No matter how far you’ve gone down the wrong road, turn back.” Seemed like good advice to me. I wanted to hang it on my wall, along with the one that says, “It’s Never Too Late to Live Happily Ever After.” But what if your ex-spouse won’t turn back, too? How can you live happily ever after if your ex didn’t get the memo and has gone and gotten himself betrothed?
I pondered this for a while before coming up with a terrific new strategy, which I call “denial.”
First, I came across an etiquette column that said, even in these modern times, it’s perfectly fine for a woman to go by the honorific “Mrs.” even if she is divorced. I’d always checked “Ms.” while I was married, but all of a sudden “Mrs.” held tremendous appeal.
Then I read Arianna Huffington’s account of vacationing with her ex-husband and their two daughters, long after the couple had split. “Those of us who have been divorced know that, especially if you have children, you are never really divorced,” Mrs. Huffington has said.
A light went on, and it was fluorescent.
I’m Catholic, and my marriage has not been annulled. The state of Massachusetts says we’re divorced, but honestly, what does it know? We weren’t even married here, and, Lord knows, this Commonwealth has more than its share of idiotic, unenforceable rules. Thanks to some of its enforceable rules, however, my former husband is paying a large chunk of the bills, since I gave up my career to support his. My last name is the same as my ex’s. We still own a home together. And his family and I get along great; I had dinner with his parents and sister just last week.
Looking at the actual circumstances of my life, I’m practically married. So I decided to get undivorced, without the cooperation of my ex. Muslim men, it is said, can divorce wives without their consent by saying “I divorce thee” three times. I’m not Muslim, or a male, but maybe it works the other way, too.
So I clicked my heels like Dorothy, closed my uncharacteristically dry eyes, and whispered, I undivorce thee, I undivorce thee, I undivorce thee.
There! That’s better! Reality, it’s so yesterday. And maybe someone will throw me a shower.
Jennifer Graham is a writer and editor in Hopkinton. Send comments to coupling@globe.com. Send yours to coupling@globe.com. Please note: We do not respond to ideas we will not pursue. ![]()



