Splintered 

When two people divorce, they effectively end a union. It’s almost like the end of a book when you get to the last page and there at the bottom lies an offset cursive large print: The End. They no longer have to go to bed with that person, wake up with that person, eat a meal with them, or feign adoration for them. It must feel liberating in a way. To be free of the unwanted connection.

But what if they have children? Suddenly there is a new dynamic. Because for the child it’s not the end. They are still bound to both of these people who are walking away from each other. Stretching. Feeling their heart pull in two entirely different directions. Feeling ripped in two. Two children out of one. The ‘mom child’ and the ‘dad child’.

This isn’t so for the child of divorce. Mom and dad don’t generally compare notes. At least not on more than when you are going to be coming for your next visitation or where the drop off point will be. So with mom you become your ‘mom child’. Children generally want to please their parents and this is especially so for children of divorce. When I was with my mom I tried to be everything I knew she wanted me to be. I did the same when I was with my dad.

When my parents remarried it changed a bit. I became my mom and stepdad’s Carolyn and then my dad and stepmom’s Carolyn. Two people so different that had my parents ever really seen me with the other, they might been surprised by the stark contrast. It became a way of life for me. Nothing out of the ordinary. As essential to my existence as breathing. I got really good at it. I’m still good at it. Too good, actually.

Because now I feel like a chameleon. I can quickly ascertain what is expected in most social settings and act accordingly. I can be deep and intellectual with one person. Gossipy with the next. Then turn around and be light and airy with another. And although we all do this to an extent, I think for most this act is self driven. Meaning that most people become deep because they want to. Or they are light because they feel light at that particular time.

I do it because it’s what I sense you want. I’m no longer simply mom’s Carolyn and dad’s Carolyn. I have assembled a hundred different versions of myself. And I can seamlessly change from one to another at my whim. Or I should say, at your whim. And therein lies the problem. Because by letting you choose who I’m going to be, I never have to think about what I’m feeling.  Or what I want.  Or myself at all.  I give all the essence of me over to you.  And I think I need to take that back.  But that’s another post.