You had your reasons. You did not undertake divorce lightly. It was difficult, confusing, painful. But you survived, and it is behind you now.
Except that it’s not. You feel more guilty now than you did when you first said you wanted out of the marriage, a marriage that felt good enough, and certainly looked good enough to everyone else, but that at the same time felt to you as it if was sucking your very soul from your body.
You feel guilty now because after much grief, research, and perhaps the help of a therapist as you’ve attempted to heal yourself, it is beginning to dawn on you that your former spouse may have Aspergers. That observation can lead to a cascade of self-recrimination:
I abandoned someone for something he couldn’t help. I was selfish, thinking only of myself. He didn’t mean to be mean; he didn’t know any better. He didn’t understand me because he can’t understand me, not because he didn’t want to do so. I should have stayed. I could have worked it out. Now I’ve ruined my life, his life, the lives of our children. I must be a very selfish, cold person. No wonder he didn’t show affection to me I didn’t deserve it. All I ever thought about was yourself.
I have heard variations on this line of thinking from many clients, straight and gay, who are now going through the second round of divorce shock that often follows the rupture of a marriage to a spouse with Aspergers.
The feelings are strong. The guilt. The shame. And the rumination will not stop.
In an effort to begin breaking that incessant feedback loop, I remind my clients of one thing: they did the best they were able to do, the best they knew how to do, with the understanding that they had at the time. Looking back now with new knowledge and experience cannot change the fact that in the moment, they did the best they could. Their feelings were authentic to the moment and the situation. Their confusion was warranted.
The most important thing I try to convey is that understanding something now about a former spouse does not mean that the pain you felt was any less real; just because you now attribute it to Aspergers instead of conscious intent to inflict sorrow or to abuse you does not remove the barb and its sting from your memories.
Remember that adults today who have Aspergers did not benefit from therapeutic support in their childhoods. They did not benefit from early diagnosis, or from any clinical acknowledgment that their felt and perceived differences were more than quirks but less than pathology. And they had no assistance with the issues related to their own confusion in social expectations, theory of mind, or their feelings of having to act as if they understood what was going on around them and what was expected of them, when, in fact, they did not.
This is the area in which your compassion for your former spouse is well placed. However, it is not grounds for your own self-denigration. You got the short end of a stick that no one knew was short. Your sorrows and pain are real. You are right to feel that you have a great deal of healing to do.
Be kind to yourself as you explore this. Be gentle. You likely have a critical and judgmental voice residing within you, residue of this marriage, which must be dislodged for your own well being. It will take time. It is the critic who gives rise to the serial condemnations I outlined above.
The first step is to cradle your broken heart in your own loving hands, to acknowledge that you did what was best for you and that your instincts for self-preservation were correct. Take your time with this. Use the benefits of mental imagery, perhaps by holding in your mind the image posted above. Remember that you rowed to shore. The waters are now calm.
Find a word that, when repeated like a mantra, offers you solace. Create for yourself permission to heal, by letting go of the blockages caused by guilt and shame.
As your coach, I can help you identify a new path to fit the new contours of your life. You will be safe on this journey with guidance and support. And you will become strong and grow in compassion for others – and for yourself.
You are resilient.
Your heart will heal.