No one’s family is perfect. Hardly are they even very close.  Everyone’s background has a great impact on who they become, but it is rare that, as we go about our daily lives, we remember this fact.  Much like the real reason the sky is blue, we often forget it unless it slaps us in the face in the form of a tear-stained face, perhaps, or a bruised eye.

Thus, the subtler effects of this hidden imperfection are kept under the surface, to come out only in long conversations with the most trusted friends, if they are revealed at all.

One such flaw, a common tarnish on the bright, silvery centerpiece of traditional family, is the scandalous act of divorce.  Its color is so outwardly close to that of the usual silver shine it is often forgotten, or assumed to have little effect.  Divorced families exist in the widest of ranges of situations, and I can only recount the effects of my own.  All, though, are detrimental, even disastrous, to the children they involve.

One of the greatest and most important lessons one learns as a child is that of love: to love widely and be kind.  For a young child of a divorced family, this is a surprisingly difficult lesson.  How can a girl reconcile her innocent ideas of love when the two people she loves the most, hate each other so obviously?  In stories, people do one or the other, just as they are good or bad.  In a divorced family, love and hate walk hand in hand, and both feelings exist in equal measure.  For a young mind, this juxtaposition is hard to fathom, and causes an unquantifiable amount of sadness.

Even as this same sadness consumed me so long ago, I was expected to act normal.  “It’s not that bad,” they said.  “At least you still have two parents.”  And I would blink, for there was no way to reply.  Suddenly, I would feel guilty for feeling so sad.  There are so many who have lives that are so much more difficult than my own.  If that is the case, how weak I must be to be so deeply affected.  These were the thoughts that frequented my mind as a young child.

I also learned very young never to so much as mention my life with the family I was not with at the time.  When I did, whether I had to or I did so accidentally, the result was always the same.  Regardless of which parental unit the slip of my tongue irritated, my progenitor’s eyes would darken, the conversation would take an angry turn, and I would be able to detect with ease the disdain readily apparent in my mother or father’s tone.  I knew the anger was not directed at me, but I had still brought it about.  So, I never mentioned my other house unless absolutely necessary.  But what kinds of messages can a child learn from hiding half of her life from the other half?  Such lessons are much like those learned in cheap romance novels: they have no place in any other reality.

It was impossible, of course, to ever talk about these confusing emotions.  For such small children, the only real options are their parents, and that is, of course, out of the question.  All of the adults are biased one way or another, and how could a young child of parents who are together possibly understand such a situation?  Empathy is difficult to learn, even if sympathy is not.  The result, of course, is two options: to act out, or to keep it in.  Those that keep it in appear to be well-adjusted, and not terribly affected, but such suppression of emotion causes many problems of its own, including hidden meltdowns, depression, or difficulty in identifying emotions that are present.  Nonetheless, the suppression swiftly becomes habit, and silence is kept.

Divorce is not even remotely comparable to abuse or tragedy.  I would never suggest such a parallel.  Its effects are usually much less painful, subtler and occur over much longer periods.  However, they are often ignored or overlooked.  It is so much more complicated than the simple breaking of a marriage, and the intricacies and obstacles created in the process are difficult even for those who have experienced it to understand, let alone those who have not.  To this end, I urge all those who have not felt its effects to hold back any assumptions you might have of family or comfort.  Life is full of snags and tears, however whole the outward appearance.