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I do not think of myself as a crier. I can recall years long stretches of my life where I did not cry once. Heavy conversations with friends where I am deeply upset, breaking down, sure they can tell I am on the brink of completely losing my mind where they recall later that I seemed surprisingly serene. When I do cry, it’s usually over silly, small things. Being asked a work related question I did not expect. A dress that I was sure I would love that doesn’t quite fit. A heartwarming video clip that hits in just the place to bring tears. I do not try not to cry, I just don’t cry very much. Or, rather, I didn’t used to cry very much.
On August 31, 2022 I was in South Africa, getting ready for bed. I checked my email while I was brushing my teeth. It was around 9 PM in South Africa and around noon in Idaho. “Fwd: Fwd: Stella v. Stella” from my lawyer. There was no body in the email, just an attachment with a one page judgement. I emailed my lawyer back, a little shaky and frantic. “Am I divorced?” His reply came quickly.
“Yes, you are divorced.”
I texted my newly minted, official ex. “Did you know we’re divorced?” He did not. He found out from my text message.
I started to cry and I haven’t really stopped since.