Today is the Swiss National Day in Switzerland
It’s the day that the first cantons of Switzerland decided to stay independent together (or something like that).
It’s kind of like the Fourth of July in the USA.
At night, there will be fireworks.
The weather today is overcast with teases of rain. It feels very much like the Fourth of July in the Seattle area that’s notorious for being overcast and cloudy. Where people in other parts of the US would get sunburnt during their barbeques, I grew up in a world where we wore jeans and hoodies as we waited for it to get dark enough for fireworks.
Today is also a day of significance for me. It’s the anniversary of my divorce. I don’t really tell people about this because it’s a very personal day for me and I’m never quite sure how I’ll feel.
On the day of my divorce, I stood in front of the judge at the courthouse and represented myself and my ex-husband in our petition for the dissolution of our marriage. I was alone. My lawyer was with me. In a matter of minutes, it was over. I was no longer married. It was anti-climactic on the outside but felt very significant on the inside.
Before entering the courtroom, I used the restroom at my lawyer’s office and took a photo of myself. I wanted to capture that moment, how I looked, and how I felt. I posted it on Instagram with an intentionally vague caption. And I didn’t respond to anyone’s questions. Those who knew knew.
On the first anniversary of my divorce, I was back in Seattle for summer vacation. I had lunch with a friend then went to the Nordstrom Anniversary sale. I bought a bunch of bras and lingerie that made me feel beautiful.
On the second anniversary of my divorce, I filled up all the pages in my passport, must to Drake’s disdain.
On the third, I was back in the US for summer break and drove from Seattle to Portland. I had drinks with my college best friend who was the only divorced friend I knew at the time. She helped me through my divorce.
On the fourth, it was 2020. My friend-and-pandemic-roomie and I took a bottle of wine with us down to Lake Geneva in search of fireworks. While waiting for fireworks that never came because public events were canceled due to the pandemic, we talked about dating. She suggested that I go back on Tinder. That night I did. And what happened next is a really good story.
On the fifth anniversary of my divorce, I was swimming in a pool in a villa in Tuscany just outside of Florence, Italy. It was my second grand road trip through Italy with friends who I met in Switzerland.
On the sixth anniversary, I spent the day on a stand-up paddle board touring Lake Geneva. We finished our tour at sunset and sat on the wall along the lake in an old Swiss village next to Swiss kids shouting in French for the fireworks to begin: allez-y feu d’artifice (let’s go, fireworks!).
On the seventh, I’m lounging in bed next to Minnie writing to you.
Later, if the weather clears, I’ll head to a park with a tote bag full of Chassela wine to catch the fireworks over the lake with a bunch of friends from all over the world. I’ll probably stay up too late and drink too much. And my 3-week intensive French course that starts at 8:45 am is going to be rough. (Or maybe the hangover will help ease my anxieties around speaking French?)
Over the weekend, I thought about today and wondered how I was feeling about it. It’s been seven years. That’s a long time. I wrote an essay about it. It’s really good and has a surprising ending. I’m not ready to share it yet; it needs more time and editing.
Last night, I told my new beau the story of the day I got divorced. About the photo, the courtroom, who I texted immediately after, and what they said back.
How the next day, I changed my name. The day following, I raced to the passport office for an expedited passport because I was supposed to be on an airplane to Switzerland the following week.
How then the following week, my work permit hadn’t been approved by the Swiss authorities because everyone was on vacation. But, no worries, my new company said while I was panicking and afraid that they’d cancel my contract, we’ll just issue a new work contract and change your start date to September 1st.
And then I got two extra weeks of “summer vacation” where nothing was planned because I’d already closed out my entire life in the US. I remember it being the best two weeks of my life.
Then I got on an airplane and moved to Switzerland.
As I told him this story and this series of events, I saw his face grow into a soft smile. Possibly knowing what I was about to realize and say out loud—how if I hadn’t gone through the divorce, I wouldn’t be here now.
How I wouldn’t have found a life that I really like. I wouldn’t have quit my job. I wouldn’t have found my way back into writing. I wouldn’t be developing an organization to help women build their lives after their divorce too (want to see a preview?).
I wouldn’t have traveled around the world with my cat.
And I wouldn’t have met any of the people who are important to me now. Including him.
This is the first time I’ve had this thought and believed it completely.
<deep exhale>
I think fresh-divorced Laura would be proud of how things unfolded since she took that photo in the bathroom outside of her lawyer’s office.
I know I am.