Dinner and a divorce
“You’ll feel better in two years,” every divorced person I know tells me, which is a lot by the way. Some follow up with dumb advice like, “Focus on self-care when you don’t have the kids,” or “Learn something new, like how to play the ukulele or maybe a foreign language. Do you know Chinese?”
“Great idea,” I say, thinking to myself: What a dumb idea.
Sure, these people are well-intentioned, but being in the infancy stage of a contentious divorce, I don’t have the bandwidth to learn anything new. I mean, retaining any previous knowledge is a feat in itself.
It’s all brand new and overwhelming: Splitting parenting time, not being in my own home, accruing attorney fees, letting go of a future I thought was guaranteed. The anxiety brought on by these circumstances hijacks my brain, leaving little room for much else. Over the course of the past five months, I threw my air pods away, missed my exit on the way to work, brushed my teeth with Cortisone cream, lost my car key and still can’t remember where I packed my underwear. So I’m sure you can understand why snuggling up on a sofa — that’s not mine — and watching a YouTube video on how to crochet, is not happening any time soon.
Baby steps, they (also) say. Pre-divorce proceedings, I cooked. I love trying new recipes, inviting friends over and reveling in the compliments my friends dish out as they stuff their faces. Familiarity is comforting so I decided to use cooking to cope. I’ve done it before, so it wasn’t as far of a stretch as learning the ukulele.
That said, those of you who have been through a divorce (according to statistics that should be at least 50% of you), know that appetite is one of the first things to go. Most of us lose around 15 pounds on the divorce diet, which quite frankly, rivals Ozempic. But instead of injecting semaglutide into your body to suppress your appetite, you stay full on a steady diet of rage, stress, sadness and fear.
This emotional stress increases cortisol levels, which slams down the digestive system and causes nausea, vomiting and diarrhea. So it makes sense why nothing sounds good to eat and keeping food down can be impossible.
“Drink an Ensure once a day,” a therapist tells me.
“The nausea, vomiting and diarrhea sound better,” I (sort of) joke back.
Ignoring me, she next recommends I continue to run. She knows I used to run every day and haven’t had the energy to get in as many miles as I used to. I say sure to shut her up and end the session. Later, I half-ass commit to myself to run four miles a day. Perhaps then an Ensure would sound good?
Nah. Instead, I decide that after I run 20 miles a week, I will reward myself by cooking a new recipe. The first recipe I chose, courtesy of The New York Times, was Pickled Mushroom Salad. If you hate fungi, don’t tap out just yet. Or maybe do. Who am I to say? I love mushrooms and can’t imagine anyone not.
If you’re thinking my recipe selection is bizarre, hear me out. Mushrooms are decomposers and break down dead plants to recycle their nutrients. So my reasoning was that by eating the mushrooms, they work their magic and break down my dead marriage. Another mushroom superpower: they can thrive without any light and require little energy to grow. And anyone who has gone through a divorce knows it’s a dark, dark place and also a period of growth. Oh, and obviously mushrooms are a fungus and who hasn’t thought of their ex as a fungus at one time or another? Hopefully, I converted any anti-fungi folks out there.
Anyway, I invited my mom over for dinner and made the mushroom salad. I plated the mushrooms over a fat, grilled slice of sourdough bread, topped with a generous dollop of crème fraîche and gave us each a holiday pour of Sauvignon Blanc. We both helped ourselves to seconds and then Mom finished the bowl of mushrooms with a spoon. No judgment: Her appetite has been untouched — she’s been divorced more than 15 years.
So, it does get better.
