"I Had To Leave My Marriage To Learn How I Could've Saved It."

Writer Leslie Stephens on living alone, dating, and being present.

“You were right.”

“I had been waiting for my husband to admit that our separation was the right thing to do since I initiated it last August. It would mean that he was okay and I wasn't crazy. You were right, I heard him say through my phone's speakers as I sat parked down the block from a dinner date. I expected relief, but instead was met with a wave of grief and a tightness in my chest that felt a lot like regret.”

In her recent article I Don't Regret My Divorce, But I Do Regret This Part Of It, Leslie Stephens writes about the highs and lows of her divorce. "When I left J last August, it was because I felt something was missing that I knew staying wouldn't fix. Over the past year, I've tried to explain that "something" a thousand different ways, each of which feels both true and insufficient. A kaleidoscope comes to mind, shifting with every turn to create a new mosaic made of the same parts. I didn't know myself. Turn. We met so young. Turn. We were living according to 'shoulds.'"

Leslie adds, "It's a hard lesson made worse by the devastating catch-22 it contains: I had to leave my marriage and spend a year growing to understand how I could have saved it. By the time I figured it out, it was no longer something I could return to. J had moved on months earlier and too much time had passed."

A seasoned Substacker, Leslie and I met when I launched DOUBLE TAKE in April. Our meeting was fortuitous. Coinciding with the end of her marriage, Leslie was writing about living alone (for the first time ever) and buying a house (on her own); her words, of course, resonated with me. And even though Leslie's story differs from mine and the more common divorce narrative  (she was 20 when she married her best friend, lived a beautiful life with him, and after 10 years, they fell out of romantic love while still remaining friends) I could relate to many of her words, especially the feeling of knowing this new and uncertain path is the right one, yet doubting much of it along the way. 

Not long after we connected, Leslie – whom I imagine tucked away in her kitchen in her new house in Portland, Oregon (the one she bought solely on her own post-divorce) – shared with me about newly dating, being present, and what she regrets and doesn't. Her thoughtfulness and perspective are refreshing. She leans into the world fully and doesn't skip a beat. Bringing enthusiasm and positivity to all her endeavors, she's completing a master's degree in Professional Mental Health Counseling to treat people struggling with social media addiction and women undergoing major life changes. She has a novel debuting in 2024, You're Safe Here, and writes her newsletter Morning Person, regularly. Her ambition and drive is extraordinary.

"I do not regret this past year, though I know I easily could. Leaving my marriage was the hardest thing I've ever done, and it has caused me and many people I love an enormous amount of pain,” Leslie reflects. “I used to think it was possible to select a future and then work toward it with the promise that once I reached it, it would more or less guarantee a lifetime of happiness and satisfaction. In reality, the only thing we can do to get close to that is to live with integrity in the present. The future will bring moments of surprise, heartache, and joy regardless of the illusion of control I think I have over it." 

I often think about this. There are no guarantees. None. The best we can do is enjoy the moment so there is another one, and another one which ladders up to a life well lived. And so when I asked her what she wished she'd known before getting married, she answered thoughtfully, "I'm not sure there's anything I wish I'd known before getting married because I would do it all again, even knowing what I know now. I was with my partner for nearly a decade before getting married, so I assumed a legal document wouldn't change anything—but there's something about that level of commitment that shines a fresh light on a partnership and the life decisions you make together. I still adore and admire the man I married, but we both learned that "getting along" isn't enough to fuel a marriage."

As for separating, she extended that nothing changed overnight; it was a slow and respectful unraveling of the relationship, "Our foundation of friendship helped us establish ground rules of honesty and respect for divorce. That being said, two things come to mind: My husband and I were out of sync when it came to processing the divorce. For example, he felt grief when I felt relief, and then I came into my own grief right at the moment he was experiencing happiness and new love. This means you can connect but can't fully lean on each other. You have to lean on your community and yourself. Also, I'm glad I didn't know how hard it would be because it was hard, very hard. Journal, take care of yourself, and read books from other wise wisdom who have gone through it before you so you can draw from their strength." 

A takeaway she can offer others is to disagree and have healthy debates and arguments. It allows for growth. Leslie and her husband didn't do this. "My husband and I never fought in the ten years we were together, which I always thought was a testament to the strength of our relationship, but I've come to realize that it's possible to be too polite and non-confrontational. I was often the one steering the ship, with him as first mate, but I don't think I did a great job creating space for him to speak up for his needs. In dating, I've had to learn how to take turns steering to have true partnership. I'm also not entirely sure I want to get married again… but time will tell!"

Leslie recalled that while they are no longer a couple, she still loves him and wants him in her life. So, she got honest with herself and figured out how to embrace him and their mutual respect for one another to do so. They speak less these days, and he is in a new relationship, but that respectful base remains.

When it comes to living on her own, alone, she loves it - though it took a lot of getting used to and adjusting to the quiet and the rhythm of singledom. For anyone starting this journey, shes suggests to invest in your home, make it yours, somewhere you love and eventually will love to be alone. This I know to be true. Leslie elaborates, "Before moving into my apartment last year, I could count on one hand the number of nights I'd spent alone as an adult. My ex and I met when we were nineteen and moved in together after college, so I was rarely alone. At first, I hated living by myself. I felt so lonely and uncomfortable; I didn't know what to do with myself. Evenings were the worst—I would try to lose myself in a show or book, counting the minutes until bedtime. I've since come to relish my solo time in a way I never thought I would. I think Liz Gilbert talks about reframing living by yourself as living with yourself. These days, I enjoy my own company and treat myself with the same love I would a friend: I cook lavish dinners for myself, play my favorite music loud, and tend to my needs in a way I never understood I was allowed to."

As for dating and meeting new people, Leslie said she tried dating apps for two weeks. "I was so afraid of dating—I had never gone on a proper first date (all of my exes began as friends) and met my husband before dating apps were normalized. Getting on the apps reminded me that not only am I capable of dating, but I really enjoy it. I got off them because I had difficulty being myself on first dates. I felt like I was performing a role, or worse, auditioning for the part of "girlfriend" or "future wife." It's the opposite of how I want to spend my time right now: Getting to know myself and staying true to that self. I'm dating someone I met in person, but I'm taking things slow to figure out what I want in a partner and how I want to show up in a partnership. I want to make sure I'm really listening to myself and them this time," she declared.

Soon, she will graduate with her master's degree, release her book, and settle even deeper into her new home. At this particular moment in Leslie's life, you can't help but apply a metaphor – a fresh start, a new chapter, a page turned - and take inspiration. But all of this requires time (and patience). "I had been so consumed by my past and future that I was entirely missing the present."

Admiring how evolved and truly present she is in her new life, I asked for a final piece of advice on the subject. "Living in the moment doesn't just happen—it's a constant practice. For me, reading poetry (by Mary Oliver, in particular) and going on walks is key," she concludes.

And that's it. Or, as some scientists at the Centre for Time theorize, time may not pass at all, and the past, present, and future exist simultaneously. If this is the case, all we have is the present.