When You’re the Only Adult in the Divorce

Photo Credit: Liza Summer via Pexels

“Those who get angry when you set a boundary are the ones you need to set boundaries for.” – J.S. Wolfe

There are a multitude of things that come up when a marriage ends, and I don’t just mean the big, sweeping losses like identity, intimacy, or routines. I mean the interpersonal whiplash. The strange, almost surreal, behaviours that show up in the interactions with your former partner.

And it doesn’t matter whether your divorce is relatively calm/amicable or a door-slam-you-can-hear-from-space — at some point, you’re likely going to find yourself staring at a text or an email or a facial expression and thinking, “What the actual HELL is happening right now?”

If your ex was usually laid back during your relationship, you might see sides of them now that you never expected. And it’s jarring. Some of it might be from their trauma surfacing, some of it might be pride (that stubborn ego that doesn’t want to look like they’re struggling), so instead of being that usual cool cucumber, they go on the offensive and become a sour grape.

I get that, to a point, but when it becomes the new normal? When does it turn into a pattern of irrational, emotionally loaded responses to simple communication? That’s when it gets exhausting.

Because here you are, doing your best to keep things functional. You’re trying to be civil. Clear. Direct. And the moment you hold your ground, or show a little composure, the clap-back arrives: “You’re being controlling.” “You’re so cold.” “You’ve changed.” Or worse, they question your sincerity. (Apparently, calm equals fake to many a scorned lover.)

But what they’re not seeing (and maybe not even capable of seeing) is that you’re trying to move forward. You’re not stuck in the old arguments. You’re trying to close one chapter with some measure of self-respect. That doesn’t make you cold. It makes you functional. And honestly, sometimes it just makes you tired.

I remember when I met my now-husband (my forever husband), he was having some struggles with his kids’ behaviour. And I remember him saying, “Come September, I’m putting my foot down.” It was May. We had just met. His kids didn’t know I existed yet. And I looked at him and put my foot down. I (lovingly) said, “No. You’re doing it now.” Because once his kids (and more importantly, his ex) knew I was in the picture, any change he made would be chalked up to me. I wasn’t willing to be the scapegoat or make him seem as though I was wearing the new pants in the family. I wasn’t about to let my presence be used to discredit what needed to change anyway.

That’s the thing: any time you grow, set boundaries, or shift a pattern that existed inside your past relationship, there’s a good chance your ex will read that as performance. They will assume you’re doing it for appearances, or to prove a point, or because someone else is influencing you. Sometimes that’s their defensiveness talking (or their pain), but sometimes it’s just good ‘ole fashioned manipulation. And then… sometimes… it’s just an unwillingness to believe that change can happen without them. (There’s a layer of hurt in there, too, when they have thoughts of, “Oh, so I wasn’t good enough for them to change for.)

Whatever it’s coming from (pain, pride, fear), it turns into this weird back-and-forth where you’re both stuck and no one’s getting anywhere. They say something sharp, and now you’re deciding — do I say something back? Walk away? Let it slide? It’s a loop. Breaking that cycle starts with knowing what you actually want from the moment (and who you want to be inside it).

That means checking your own intentions, too, and asking yourself, “That might mean pausing to ask yourself: Is this how I want to show up? Am I moving forward, or just trying to come out on top?” If the answer leaves you uneasy, that’s the place to begin. Otherwise, you’re just performing maturity while still fuelling the chaos.

But… and here’s the big but… if you’ve done that work. But if you’ve already done that work, and you know what’s true for you? Then hold the line. Even when it feels like crap. Because every time you let yourself get pulled into old dynamics or dragged into their drama, the cycle continues. And I don’t want that for you.

So get yourself anchored. Write it down. Journal it out. Go find a hobby, a walking group, a rage-painting workshop, I don’t care; just get yourself something that’s forward-moving. Preferably something that has nothing to do with your ex or your past. Bonus points if it has nothing to do with your divorce at all. And if you’re going to join a support group or community, please, for the love of your own nervous system, make sure it’s not an ex-bashing echo chamber. Find one that’s focused on healing. Rooted in self-awareness and growth (not blame).

They’ll choose their path, so you get to choose yours.

It’s hard being the grounded one, especially when the other person won’t meet you there. But their growth isn’t yours to manage. Only yours.

So breathe. Be honest. Kind doesn’t mean spineless. Calm doesn’t mean disconnected. And when in doubt? Say less. Do less. Walk away sooner.

Protect your peace like it’s gold — because it is.

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