EP87 Divorced, Judged & Misunderstood: Stigma, Grief & Giving Zero F*cks

“You’re not a cautionary tale. You’re the fucking heroine.”

In this episode of The Divorce Chapter, we’re flipping the script on one of the biggest unspoken struggles of post-divorce life: judgement..... from others, from society, and most heartbreakingly, from ourselves.

I go all in on the shame-soaked double standards that women face after divorce and tear them apart with equal parts rage, humour, and raw truth.

From pitying glances to school-gate micro-judgements, to the social media algorithm demoting you to “unpartnered and problematic,” this is the episode that says out loud what so many of us have been quietly carrying.

We’re talking:

💔 The social stigma still clinging to women who divorce (even in 2025)
💔 What the hell “disenfranchised grief” is and why divorce hits harder when no one brings you lasagne
💔 The Judgement Olympics….unsolicited advice, side-eyes, and sanctimonious nonsense
💔 That sneaky internalised voice whispering, “Maybe I was the problem…”
💔 Why your marriage didn’t “fail” just because it ended
💔 And how to start rewriting your story…. on your terms, in your own bloody voice

This one is for anyone who’s felt the sting of being misunderstood, misjudged, or mistaken for fragile just because they chose themselves and didn’t stay for a second helping of trauma and betrayal.

✨ Because divorce isn’t a failure. It’s a plot twist.

And maybe this is the part of the story where everything finally gets interesting.

Hope you enjoy (and if you do, PLEASE rate and review ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐)

Loads of Love,

Sarah x

🌸

P.S. In May in the Divorce Book Club, we’re not only celebrating our first birthday 🎉 but we’re also going to be How to Heal After Narcissistic Abuse by Caroline Strawson…..And It’s a Must-Read for Anyone Healing from a Toxic Relationship.

If your ex made you feel like you were the problem…
If you’re still replaying conversations wondering, “Was it really that bad?”
If you're done with gaslighting, breadcrumbing, and walking on eggshells...

💡 Then May’s Divorce Book Club pick is for YOU.

Blending neuroscience, trauma recovery, and real-life insight, this book is packed with practical tools to help you go from surviving to thriving after narcissistic abuse. Perfect for anyone who wants science-backed healing with a side of empowerment.

✨ Whether you're still untangling from a toxic ex or rebuilding yourself from the inside out, this month’s read will support your healing, one chapter at a time.

➡️ Make sure you’re signed to get access to the pick, discussion prompts, and healing conversations that will remind you:

You’re not crazy. You’re just finally free.

So if you want to join us, check it all out HERE ⬇️

And use code BIRTHDAY50 for 50% off your first month 🎁

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Chapters

• 0:00 The Pity Face with 'Oh I'm So Sorry to Hear That'
• 4:00 Why, in 2025 are we STILL judging women for divorce?
• 6:23 It's Like a F*cked Up Version of Goldilocks
• 8:48 The Grief You're NOT Allowed to Have
• 11:53 What was I supposed to do?
• 13:22 Nobody says you'll find another Mum at a funeral, do they?
• 15:30 Parroting Society's BS
• 18:17 You Don't Need a Permission Slip to Leave Trauma Behind - Heal Louder than the Hurt
• 21:38 Maybe you didn't fall apart after all, maybe you fell into place
• 24:36 Breaking News.... BIRTHDAY50 for AMAZING Value

Transcript

00:00

Hello, my loves, and welcome to the divorce chapter Podcast, the podcast for anyone who's ever rebuilt their entire goddamn life, with mascara streaking down your cheeks and a middle finger up to outdated expectations from motherfuckers. And that's why today's episode is one I know so many of you will feel right down to your bones. It's about judgement, not so much your own judgement, although we'll definitely touch on the whole inner critic bitch voice that pipes up with, well, maybe you were part of the problem at 3am, but this one is really about other people's judgement, the sideways glances, the awkward silences at family gatherings, the Oh, I'm so Sorry to hear that, followed by the classic pity face, you know, you know the one like your dog's died and you've been made redundant on the same day. You know it. This episode is about the social stigma of divorce, especially for women, and how it seeps into your everyday life, how we internalise it, and how, most importantly, we rise a-fucking-bove it, crown on, shoulders back, story re written, and we're also going to touch on something called disenfranchised grief, which Is grief that isn't seen or supported by society, and something I kind of call the unspoken social hierarchy of suffering, where some pain is quietly accepted and supported, and other pain, well, you'll have to sort it out yourself with a bottle of wine, some online therapy and A screaming, fucking void. And look, I know this all sounds a little bit doom and gloom, but you know me, there'll be a bit of humour, I hope, and a bit of honesty. There'll be absolute zero tolerance for bullshit, and probably a few F bombs, because honestly, life calls for them sometimes. And also, just quickly, do stay tuned until the end for an amazing, amazing birthday offer for the divorce book club. Yep, we are officially one on the first of May, and we also start a new book on the first of May, which is chosen by the members, how to heal from narcissistic abuse by the brilliant Caroline Strawson. So stay tuned for that breaking news, but for now, let's fucking go on this judgement business.

02:57

Let me ask you this, why are we still in 20 20 fucking five judging women for divorce? Mmmm? Why? Because here's the thing, divorce is everywhere. It's not rare, it's not scandalous, it's not even unexpected anymore. According to the stats, nearly half of all marriages in the UK and the US end in divorce. We see it in our own families. We see it on every celeb gossip site. It's in our group chats, in our friend circles. It's even in our goddamn Netflix queues and yet, and yet, there's still a whisper of shame that clings to it, especially if you're a woman. Why? Because society still feeds us this subtle and sometimes not so subtle, narrative that a woman's worth is deeply, intrinsically tied to her ability to air quotes. Keep a man. And if you lose him, heaven forbid, whether it was your choice or not, you're seen as someone who couldn't hold it together. Never mind if he was emotionally unavailable, never mind if he was a serial cheater, a gaslighting narc or an actual walking red flag who left you for Sharon from the bloody running club. You still get the pity. You still get the silence. You still get the not so thinly veiled condescension of, Oh, that's such a shame. You seem so happy. It's the same goddamn narrative in different wrapping. If a bloke leaves the midlife crisis is finally finding himself but if a woman leaves, or, God forbid, triggers the divorce in some way, she she's unstable, too emotional that one gave up too easily. Never mind if she's been surviving on adrenaline and antidepressants for three fucking years. Never mind if her self worth had to be scraped up off the floor, 

05:21

and the judgement doesn't stop with the leaving either. We're judged if we stay in an unhappy marriage, told that we're weak, dependent, setting a bad example, we're judged if we leave, told we gave up, didn't try hard enough. selfish. We're judged if we remarry too soon, bit quick innit? And we're judged if we never remarry. Oh, might you be lonely? It's like being caught up in some fucked up version of Goldilocks. Too young to divorce, too old to start over, too broken to date, too independent to be lovable, too much, too little, never just right. And this shit, it shows up in real life, in the tiny moments that pile up, like when your mate invites you to a dinner party and accidentally seats you next to her other divorced friends. Because obvs two people with broken marriages, has to equal instant match obvs. My bloody brother did this to me one Easter. He invited his single mate from up the road like I was some kind of lost puppy in need of adoption. Honestly, I was half a second from nailing myself to the cross just for the drama. Or, when the teacher at the kids school gives you that look, you know, the one when you mention dads doing the pickup this weekend instead of tonight, that micro second pause, that flicker of judgement that makes you want to launch into your entire life story just to justify the sentence. Or when the in laws, the ones who used to say, you'll always be family, go completely radio silent the minute the ink dries on a decree, absolute or final order. Whatever it's bloody called now. And then there's social media, oh yes, the wild west of curated lives and carefully filtered stories where announcing your divorce feels like you've publicly admitted failure. I swear, the minute I changed my status to divorced that I could practically feel the algorithm downgrading me to a different tax bracket of womanhood, like I'd gone from respectable, married lady to single, rogue feminist with too many opinions and not enough eyeliner.

07:45

And that brings me to something we really need to talk about, disenfranchised grief. That's the grief you're not allowed to have, the one society doesn't quite know what to do with. So you can't have it. The silent, uncomfortable kind that doesn't come with sympathy cards, it doesn't come with hot casseroles, it doesn't come with tearful eulogies,disenfranchised grief. So the term was coined by grief expert Dr Kenneth doka, and that is a real name, not a Harry Potter spell, and it describes the grief that isn't socially recognised, supported or validated. And guess what? Divorce grief fits that perfectly. You're expected to get on with it. Move on. Glow up. Post a Look at me now Selfie with a glass of prosecco and the hashtag divorced and thriving before you even have a chance to process what the fuck just happened. Because there's this weird undercurrent, this belief that if divorce was your choice in some way, or even if it wasn't, but you get to be free now you've lost your right to grief. The truth is, though divorce is a death, the death of a relationship, the death of a dream you once believed in, the death of a shared future that you planned, imagined, maybe even built a whole life around. And when society doesn't make space for that, grief doesn't go anywhere, just gets buried, sucked into the corners of your life like emotional clutter. You carry it around like invisible hand luggage, heavy, awkward and just under the weight limit, and then one day you find yourself sobbing in the Sainsbury's car park because chasing cars by Snow Patrol came on the radio, and you can't remember the last time anyone held your hand without it feeling like obligation. No one brings you lasagna when your marriage ends, do they? There's no funeral, no flowers, no thinking of you. Card chucked through the letterbox. There's just silence or worse or worse, unsolicited advice. Because in the grief Olympics, divorce is somewhere near the bottom of the podium, right below the dog ate my passport, and just above, they cancelled my favourite Netflix series. When someone dies, you get cards, casseroles, a socially sanctioned space to fall apart. When your marriage dies, you get side eyes, maybe a half hearted You go girl from someone who's never experienced a 2am anxiety spiral while updating their utility bills and wondering who the fuck they are now that they're not part of a we. 

10:53

And if you do cry, if you do break down sobbing over wedding photos or old texts, someone inevitably goes, Why are you upset you started the divorce? You divorced him? Yes, because he emotionally destroyed me, because I couldn't take another night of being gaslit into doubt in your memory, because I didn't want to teach my kids that love looks like silence and resentment and walking on fucking eggshells. What was I supposed to do? Go back for seconds, book another table at the trauma cafe and order a double helping. No thanks. And let's talk about work and all, because you get zero compassionate leave when your marriage ends, despite the fact that your whole life has just detonated and your brain feels like soup, you're still expected to show up, file the report, smile in meetings, answer emails, all whilst trying not to cry over your lukewarm pret coffee. No one brings you a tissue when you're dying on the inside, divorce grief is like attending your own funeral, except no one shows up, because technically, you're still breathing. And it's not just grief. It's the judgement too, the constant subtle suggestions that maybe you're not grieving, air quotes, right? Or at least you're free now. 

12:27

Or it could be worse, or the best one, the best one, you'll find someone else, nobody, nobody says you'll find another mum at a funeral, do they? Because here's the thing, there is no hierarchy in pain, no Award for Most legitimately devastated. You get to grieve what's gone, even if what's gone wasn't good for you anymore. You get to cry for what could have been, even if it was going to be shit. You get to feel the absence of a relationship, even if it was toxic, because it still mattered, it still shaped you, and it still fucking hurts. But the judgement doesn't stop there. Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, we've done the grief Olympics now. Welcome to the judgement Olympics, where everyone's a critic and your divorce is apparently open for public review. Did you try counselling? What about the kids? Though, couldn't you have just stuck it out? It's like people think your life is a great project. They're entitled to give feedback on despite having none of the context and all of the opinions. Then there's the post split commentary. Oh, I always knew it was a bit complicated. Oh, now you mention it. Have you tried Pilates? It helped my cousin after her breakup. What Pilates healed her betrayal, trauma. That's fucking impressive. You're too gorgeous to be single for too long. Because obvs the goal is to be partnered always. Honestly, I got more unsolicited advice after my divorce than I did when I was pregnant, and I didn't want it then either.

14:33

But then, if all that external judgement wasn't bad enough, here comes the real kicker, the internalised judgement, that voice in your head, not your voice, but one you've heard so often around you, it fucking feels like yours, the one that starts parroting society's bullshit, right back atcha.....  oh, was I too much? Should I have been more patient? Maybe I was the problem. And just like that, you become the one carrying the guilt. You become the one twisting yourself into knots to make other people comfortable. You start apologising for being divorced on dating apps. Sorry, yeah, the ex husband was a dick, but I promise I'm still emotionally stable. I'm great with brunch reservations. Or you start over compensating at school events, bringing in the handmade cupcakes, over volunteering for the PTA duty to prove you're not that single mum stereotype, God forbid, we'd be tired, messy or unapologetically fucking human, you start saying shit like, oh, I failed. My marriage failed, like a relationship ending automatically gets stamped with a big red fucking air for failure, but hang on a bloody second. I was married for 23 years. I raised two incredible sons. I now have five beautiful grandkids. Was that a failure? Is all of that, the love, the life, the memories, just chucked in a bin because it didn't end with a platinum anniversary and matching mobility scooters? No, it didn't fail. It ended. And endings are not failures. They're transitions. They're turning points. They're truths that finally got loud enough to be fucking heard. Let me say this again, because some of you need to hear it, not just with your ears, but with your bones. The only person I needed to forgive was me for thinking I had to earn anyone's approval to be whole again. So stop. Stop shrinking to fit someone else's expectations. Stop watering yourself down for the comfort people who don't even know the full story. You don't owe anyone a tidy narrative. You don't need a permission slip to leave trauma behind. You don't need to be the perfect ex wife or the perfect co parent or the perfect bloody anything. 

17:38

So what do we do with all this shame and judgement and crap. Well, here's where the healing gets louder than the hurt.Number one, we call out the bullshit. When someone makes a judgy comment, even if it's subtle or well meaning, try saying, Wow, that's an interesting take. Thanks, but I'm good with my decision. You don't have to justify, explain, or even soften the truth for their comfort. You're not a freaking shame sponge. You do not need to absorb other people's insecurities, assumptions, beliefs, outdated values. None of it. While we're talking beliefs, let's ask ourselves some better questions, no for our own inherited beliefs, our adopted beliefs start with placing the guilt spirals with more empowering questions. Instead of asking, oh, what was wrong with me? Ask yourself, What am I proud of for surviving? Instead of why did it end try? What did I gain by walking away? Because that is where the true healing is, not in obsessing over the past, but in honouring who you became because of the past, and surround yourself with post divorce expanders as well. I call them this because they literally expand your idea of what's possible. Find women online in real life, whatever, who show you what thriving looks like in the aftermath, people who are rebuilding, creating, healing, not perfectly, but authentically. And it's exactly what the divorce book Club's all about. Spaces where we don't just survive, we rewrite, we fucking thrive, even if it's the roller coaster along the bloody way, where we don't pretend it was easy, but we show the hell up anyway. And that means getting into spaces where your grief is seen, where you are seen, therapy, coaching, support groups, friendships, where I'm not okay. Is allowed? You deserve to be witnessed in your story, validated, reminded that your worth has zero correlation to your relationship status. And also, while we're on, what we can do, do, try and find the funny in it, because, look, sometimes the only thing left to do is laugh like when your ex gets a spray tan, joins CrossFit and starts dating someone called sapphire, who looks scarily like you did 20 years ago. Because that's healing as well. The moment you start laughing again, that's when you get to reclaim you and find that happy.

20:39

Maybe you didn't fall apart after all, maybe you fell into place. Let me say this out loud for the people at the back, divorce is not a fucking failure. Sometimes staying is actually the failure. Sometimes staying would have meant the slow erosion of everything you are. Sometimes staying would have been the end of you. Your divorce isn't a tragedy, it's a plot twist, and maybe just maybe, it's the part of your story where everything gets interesting, where the heroine finds a footing, where the story starts to glow. You're not a cautionary tale. You're the fucking heroine. So if you're still carrying the echo of shame, of judgement, of grief, you were never allowed to express. This is your permission to put it the fuck down. Let people think what they want, let society catch up. You don't owe anyone an explanation, just your own pace. And if someone can't handle the fact that you chose yourself, that's not your burden. That's their baggage. It's not your plot line. So if you've been feeling the weight of all that judgement other people's your own societies, I want you to hear me now loud and clear, love, you don't have to carry it anymore. You don't have to shrink to make others comfortable. You don't have to explain your decisions to people who weren't in the room, who didn't live in your body or feel your heartbreak. You don't need to be polished or perfect or even healed to deserve compassion. You just need to know that you were never the problem. You were the one who finally chose truth. You were the one brave enough to say this ain't working for me anymore. You were the one who decided that surviving wasn't enough. You want more than that, and you fucking deserve it. And oh, divorce doesn't define you, judgement doesn't own you, and shame doesn't get a seat at your table anymore. Love, because this, this right here is the part of the story where the main character realises she's had the pending around the old damn time. So take a breath, shake off the narratives that were never yours to carry. Say goodbye to the version of you that apologise for existing, and now, whenever you're ready start writing the next bit on your terms, in your voice, with joy, rage, sparkle, whatever the fucking hell else you want to bring because this story, this one, is yours.

23:39

And talking of rewriting your story and living in your best goddamn life after the divorce shitshow, Breaking News, time for the divorce book club. Whoa May, its your birthday? Gonna party like it's your birthday? And to celebrate our birthday. I'm offering all new members 50% off the first month if you join up in May as our birthday month, because your next chapter ain't gonna write self love, but with the right mindset support tools you get to create a story you're proud of, personal growth and development and all the shizzle, it's so, so much more powerful when you have people cheering you on, when you surround yourself with people who just get it and who are committed to healing, sometimes you just need to hear someone say, Me too. I get it. Here's what helped me. You really don't have to do it on your own life after divorce. Doesn't come with a manual, but if it did, this book club would so be it. It's such a safe space to do this year, it really is. You get to help decide what book we read each month. You get private podcast episodes that break down every chapter into. Really fucking easy to apply takeaways. You get a private Facebook group where you can ask questions, share wins, connect with others who get it, and you'll get all the books, like your own personal audio library, love or for only a fiver plus that in my I'm sorry, that has to be the best value divorce healing out there now. So if you are ready to stop waiting for happiness and start creating it, mate, you know what to do. All the links are in the show notes or over at www dot the divorce book club.com. And in May for our birthday month, the members have chosen our new book starting on the first of May, how to heal from narcissistic abuse by Caroline Strawson. Caroline is a leading expert on narcissistic abuse after her own marriage and subsequent divorce to a narc, she is a shining light indeed for how to heal from this shit. And the book's going to help us, it says, understand our core emotional wounds and begin to heal from the past. It's got practical tools and exercises that we can actually use to engage with the impact of narcissistic abuse, like nervous system regulation, internal family systems theory, the self navigation map. It's got techniques to mitigate any potential triggers and develop compassion and kindness toward their inner child, like grounding practices, self leadership and meditations, and it's how to turn pain into purpose, moving to a place of post traumatic growth. Hell fucking Yes, I'm here for that. So you know what to do, run, don't walk, because that's it for me, until next time when I will be back in your beautiful, bad ass earbuds you gorgeous human. Keep going, keep choosing you. I'm sending you so much love. Bye.