Divorced at Fifty, Finally Free

Synopsis

At my fiftieth birthday dinner, my husband David Carter raised his glass and said, "The only thing my wife's ever been good at is cooking." The whole room burst out laughing. I set down my fork and stood up. "Then go find someone who cooks better. I want a divorce." The room went dead silent. In thirty-three years of marriage, this was the first time I'd ever shut someone up at the dinner table. The truth was, I'd been done holding it in for a long time. I was done tolerating David's constant criticism, done accepting my son Michael's entitlement, done putting up with his wife's endless meddling, and done listening to everyone tell me what I "should" do. For thirty-three years, I had turned myself into an unpaid maid and a ghost in my own home. David said I'd lost my mind. I looked him straight in the eye. "Yeah, I have. I've gone crazy enough to finally want to live for myself." At fifty years old, I was done being the perfect wife and devoted mother. I wanted to wear a red dress. I wanted to go dancing. I wanted to learn to paint. On the first day of my fifty, I was going to become myself.