How food, drinks and the support of friends helped this Grrl Genius move on
My girlfriends finally calmed Kim down by agreeing to make the party a barbecue, with a suckling pig on a spit. Kim insisted on referring to the pig by my ex's name, and that seemed to quench her thirst for revenge while still allowing my cousin to feel that we were being white-glove Peggy Post correct.
Jen did feel the party needed some kind of ceremony, and after much debating, my friends finally settled on a naming ceremony. During this ritual, I took back my maiden name and then my friends helped me fill out the many DMV, credit card and government forms that process entailed. At some point Jen started tentatively singing "Kumbaya," but we put a quick stop to it by refilling her piña colada.
The party didn't make me feel like a loser. I felt loved and supported. We didn't rip up my wedding album; we didn't burn my bridal gown and roast marshmallows over it (yet another of Kim's suggestions). The dress was expensive, so I donated it to Goodwill, figuring it would be worth a few dollars in sleeve de-poufing fees to remake it into a lovely dress for some other hopeful bride.
My divorce party had all the qualities of a good Irish wake. There was laughing and crying and eating and drinking. Predictably, the highlight of the party for me was the delicious chocolate cake from LedasBakeShop.com, which is my favorite. It wasn't shaped like a man, and I didn't ritualistically cut out any of his frosted organs. It was just an old-fashioned birthday cake with big pink flowers, a cake that says "Here's to you ‑- we know the world is a better place with you in it."
Because, really, all my friends were trying to tell me was that they were sorry for my loss and they loved me no matter what. If you've got a friend who's going through a divorce, trust me, she'll appreciate the thought, but even more than that, she'll appreciate the cake.
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