Erica Slotter - F*ck Divorce: A Science-Based Guide to Piecing Yourself Back Together after Your Life Implodes

Copyright 2021 Erica Slotter, PhD, and Patrick Markey, PhD

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.

Cover design by Erin Seaward-Hiatt

Cover photo credit: iStockphoto

Print ISBN: 978-1-5107-5160-6

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-5107-5161-3

Printed in the United States of America

To our children: Charlie, Grace & Lucas, you are the loves of our lives.

To our parents: thank you for your unfailing love and faith in us.

And to our ex-spouses: without whom we never would have found each other, or written this book in the first place.

Contents

Prologue
(Or, Why the hell did we want to write this book anyway?)

Chapter 1
Eat, sleep, take your Prozac. Repeat: Self-care in the post-divorce haze

Chapter 2
Discovering the post-divorce you: Older, wrinklier, and more confused

Chapter 3
Cant we all just get along? The importance of being nice(ish) to your ex

Chapter 4
The offspring: Helping your kids through this shitstorm

Chapter 5
Swipe right no, left no, right: How to get back into the dating game

Chapter 6
The audition: Surviving the awkwardness of first dates again

Chapter 7
Fuck it. No seriously: Navigating your newfound sexy time

Chapter 8
When youve met The Next One: What to do now that youve found love again

Chapter 9
Divorce-proofing: Keeping marriage 2.0, or 3.0, or 5.0 together

Epilogue
(Or, We survived this shit, and so can you.)

Prologue

(Or, Why the hell did we want to write this book anyway?)

T he Tuesday after Valentines Day, I (Erica) opened a letter from my divorce attorney. Contrary to my expectations, it wasnt yet another bill. It was my divorce decree. I was officially a single woman. I remember feeling two things. One: thank God thats over. Two: What the fuck do I do now? I went inside, drank a large bourbon, and ate a frozen pizza all by myself. Okay, there were two bourbons and perhaps two pizzas but I digress.

I was glad the divorce was over. We had been married for almost exactly seven years when my then-husband came home and told me he no longer wanted to be married. I dont want to go into the reasons why my marriage ended herethey are too sad, too personal; and it really does take two people to destroy a relationship (plus, Id like to avoid a libel suit from my ex). But there I was, finally, officially, single.

And heres the fun-filled nugget of irony: I am a research psychologist who has spent the last decade studying what makes romantic relationships work and what dooms them to fail. How could I have been so blind to what was going on in my own marriage? What really surprised me the most wasnt the collapse of the marriage, but how strange it felt to restart my life. Now that I was single, I needed to figure out who I was. How would my life be different? How would it be the same? And, most important, how the hell was I going to survive dating again? I promptly signed up for eHarmony.

Around the time I started dating, a colleague of mine, who had gotten divorced a year before, stopped by my office to offer his condolences. Fun-filled nugget of irony, part two: this divorced colleague (Patrick) is also a research psychologist who studies romantic relationships. His divorce story is its own uniquely warped journeyhe has two wonderful children, maintains (mostly) friendly contact with his ex, and definitely did his fair share of, ahem, mingling after his divorce. He suggested that we hang out as divorce-buddies trade dating war stories, bitch about our exes, etc. So, we did. For months we were just friends (I swear!) who got together once a month or so over a meal to commiserate, trade advice, and laugh at how ridiculous our lives had become. Then one night, we drank. A lot. And got naked. Fast-forward to todaywere madly in love, married, and have added a new tiny human to our crazy family.

Through our divorces, we were shocked to learn how little science-based information there was available for divorced folks. So, our mission became to put our research and life experience to good use and write about life after divorce (and yes, What the Fuck Just Happened? was proposed as an alternate title). F*ck Divorce is not a book about divorcing (which sucks); it is a book about being divorced (which doesnt have to). In F*ck Divorce , we want to help you through this bizarre journey using science and humor. Lets face it, a lot of what youre going through right now is such an absurd shit show that laughing at it is really the only option. How else do you respond when your Tinder date thinks a bondage club offers a cozy ambiance in which to get to know each other?

F*ck Divorce is about how to navigate relationships after divorcewith yourself and with other people. It is a book about how to avoid doing jail time for murdering your twat-waffle ex-spouse. (Okay, really it is a book about not murdering your ex-spouse. Were not lawyers; wed be worse than useless at getting you out of jail time.) Most important, F*ck Divorce will teach you how to start over in your new (exciting, we promise!) second chance at life. It is about dating again, getting naked with someone new, finding love, and doing your best to make that love last.

Besides, what could possibly be more abso-fucking-lutely adorable than two people writing a book about love, who had previously lost at love, who study love, and who are now in love? Nothing. Not even puppies.

Welcome to the world of being divorced. Its good, bad, ridiculous, and sometimes your blind date smells like cabbage. Pull up a chair, pour yourself a drink (or three), and lets do this shit.

Chapter 1

Eat, sleep, take your Prozac. Repeat: Self-care in the post-divorce haze

O kay, so heres where we start. You and that asshat you once called your spouse for however many years are officially going to live separate lives. The money and custody arrangements are in the process of getting figured out, and your official Im single now, bitches! paperwork has been issued. In short, you are in the middle of the divorce tornado that is cutting a path of destruction through the center of your life. You are not in Kansas anymore, sweetheart.