Divorced at 61: What I Learned About Starting Over After the Life I Planned Fell Apart
I didn’t expect to get divorced in my 60s. We met at 47, and this was our second marriage for both of us. I often described my husband as the most gentle and caring man I’ve ever known. We had an easy rhythm; conflicts were discussed, not yelled about. Our routines were not unusual. We walked the beaches of Maine. We cooked together, nothing fancy. Occasionally, we would eat popcorn for dinner while reading books by the fire.
We took care of each other, even in the most inconsequential things: me placing a water glass on his bedside table and him refilling my coffee as I wrote in the morning. Perry was attentive. We touched each other often, like shorthand. I’m here. I’m here. He wasn’t a big talker, and that was fine. The touch, I thought, does not lie.
After years of building a life, I’d imagined my husband and I together until the end, laughing and commiserating as we handled the shifts and tweaks that aging requires.
Instead, I found myself stunned, single, and standing at the edge of a future I hadn’t planned.
A Therapist… Who Needed Therapy
As a therapist, I have helped countless people navigate heartbreak and reinvention. I thought I knew how to handle emotional pain. But none of my training had prepared me for the abruptness of his leaving and telling me he wanted a divorce because he wanted to have babies.
I was a mess. I was lost. I wondered how could this happen to me!? I’m a therapist, after all. I am supposed to understand people. How could I have missed this? How could I have missed how unhappy he was? My whole sense of self shattered.
Writing Through the Wreckage
I began scribbling notes just to stay afloat. I kept every email and every text and transcribed all our phone calls. I titled it the Perry Leaving Journal. I didn’t understand what had happened or why it had happened, but that didn’t matter. I wrote it all down and hoped I could figure it out later. That journal became a memoir: If You Must Go, I Wish You Triplets. (Yes, that’s the real title. Humor helps.)
What started as a private project to understand my feelings and make sense of my life became a way to reclaim my voice, my story, and my strength. I wrote my way out of grief and into something new.
Why I’m Writing to You
Starting over in your 60s is not just possible – it’s powerful. It’s also messy, hilarious, painful, awkward, and liberating.
In this monthly space, I’ll be sharing what helped me, what hurt, and what I wish I’d known sooner. Think of it as a conversation between wise, complicated women – because that’s what we are.
You’re Not Alone
If you’re in the middle of your own unexpected chapter – or recovering from one – I hope these posts make you feel less alone.
Because reinvention isn’t just for the young. It belongs to all of us.
Also read, Creativity as a Path to Reinvention in Midlife.
Let’s Have a Conversation:
What event started your reinvention journey? Did you feel pushed toward it or did you genuinely embraced it?
Tags Divorce After 60
divorced after 35 years. Circumstances were different and I finally pulled the plug, but the recovery after that life has been the proverbial journey.
I would never want to have to go through the past 8 years again, yet they’ve been full of growth. I’ve become a grown up version of who I was when I entered that less than wonderful marriage. Now 69, I feel like I’m just getting started and am excited about continuing rebuilding this last phase of my life. I’m calling this pivot in my business My Last Big Project. All things feel fresh and new. I still have a ways to go, but that’s fine.
thanks for your article.
It sounds like you have many adventures await.
My 2nd marriage of 28 years ended a few months ago after several years of me working on changing myself according to his irritable complaints and him not noticing my efforts. I had just turned 75, and the look of contempt on the face of the man I loved was the final nail in the coffin of our once upon a time passionate relationship. He just wanted to be alone and pursue his own interests after retiring (he’s 8 years younger). It’s a good thing I’d learned through a family support 12-step program that I can’t control other people’s choices and to have the serenity to accept what I can’t change. Now I’m looking for the courage to change the things I can.
You already have the courage!
Walking through the park with the man I’m seeing we pass an adorable baby. He says, “I want one of those.” I assumed he meant grandchildren until I read your story, Virginia!!! 😅
PS: I’m 62 and he’s 68. We live apart and have a lovely relationship like you described. I met him at an outdoor concert in a small town. It helped that the music was from our generation!
Have fun dancing!
At 67, I finally decided it was time to end a 25 year relationship with a man who wouldn’t commit to any permanent relationship, had no plans for retirement/wanted to work til he died, and who thought that a couple of 2 week vacations a year was enough R and R…I sold my home, moved 10 hours away from the NE part of the country to the South, an area where I knew no one and jumped in the deep end.
It’s been an interesting 3 years, I’ve gotten very involved running 3 different groups and while I have a wide circle of friends, I haven’t met any men interested in friendship or a relationship of any kind.
I had to push myself to start the journey, I have embraced it and have no regrets!
I’m so glad you are enjoying and embracing your life!
I divorced at age 33….yes, really young. I had one relationship where the man had a double life. It scarred me and still does. Apart from sex which I miss sometimes, I do have the companionship of men, gay, single, divorced whatever (we have coffee together). I realised one day that being single and happy sure beats the doubts and insecurity which haunts me more with a man in my life. I
There are so many ways to have loving engaged relationships.