the peanut gallery
since my ex and i began the process of extricating ourselves from a 16-year marriage in 2019, transforming our home into a space that would continue to house a family while giving us the room to become single, there has been no end to the unhelpful commentary.
from my mother’s, “eww, will he have women down there?” to a work colleague’s doubtful, “i can’t imagine breathing the same air as my ex.” even the barista at the local coffee shop couldn’t help scrunching his face into a look that was something between an i-just-smelled-something-extremely-nauseating and a withering, you-poor-thing, when i explained why i was picking up six coffees (for the contractors).
breaking up (the house) is hard to do.
supplied
in my friend circle, a mix of marrieds and divorced, the tone tends to waver from a way-to-take-one-for-the-team kind of enthusiasm to a dejected weariness, as if choosing not to cut your husband completely loose is a spectacular opportunity lost: “so close, but yet so far,” sighed one.
even the mediator we hired to help us go through the minutiae of who pays for the water and who gets street parking, couldn’t help weighing in: “you should be very proud of yourselves,” she said. “not many couples can do this.”
for sure, choosing to live under the same roof as your ex is not the usual route for divorcees. but taking a non-traditional approach to where you live post-marriage — especially when you are hoping to smooth the transition for kids — is not unheard of. some couples
simply sleep in separate bedrooms
. others take a “
birds nest
” approach in which the kids stay in the family home and each parent takes turns staying with them. yet others find creative ways of living physically separately in the same home, either
by connecting two homes
or like us, simply dividing the existing structure.