What happens when your 20s take a turn you never expected? Three women share their candid stories of marriage, divorce, and moving forward. Photo / 123rf
How does it feel to be divorced in your twenties? Three women share their stories with Sinead Corcoran Dye
Jay*, 35, insurance broker
I met my first husband when I was 16, and we got married when I was 24. Our relationship, for the most part had always been relatively easy - but we were very different people.
No one was shocked when we got married so young - both my parents and his have been together since they were teens so we felt like we were just following along with what we were “meant” to be doing.
But after we got married, I became the saddest and loneliest I’ve ever been in my life - I felt trapped, like I had lost myself and any future I wanted. I tried leaving again and again but he convinced me to come home each time. I finally got out a couple of months before our second anniversary. That’s when he physically assaulted me.
At the time, one of my best friends had just left her husband – that’s what gave me the courage to do it. It reassured me my life wouldn’t be over by my marriage ending.
So being divorced by 30 was honestly a relief. While the next few years were so hard, I don’t regret anything.
Everyone was shocked that we’d split so soon after the wedding – until they learned of the abuse, then I had nothing but unwavering support from all my friends and family.
And even though I knew I’d made the right decision, I still felt like a failure. No one in my entire family was divorced and here I was, a divorcee not even two years after the wedding. I just thank my lucky stars we hadn’t yet had children.
It’s been more than 10 years now and my wedding ring is still in my jewellery box – but I haven’t looked at it since the day I left.
Just a few months after my marriage ended, I met my now-partner. It was soon, but I had ‘checked out’ of my marriage emotionally long before I physically left so I was ready to start dating and start something new. And while I wasn’t planning on getting in to a relationship so fast - I had planned on living my best single girl life – I knew I had I met my person, and the rest is history. He made me realise I was worthy and that I mattered.
When we first got together, I told him I’d never want another wedding because I couldn’t bear the idea of another marriage – but six months ago we got engaged. The wedding will be a much smaller, lowkey affair than my first - to be honest I would be happy with a registry office.
Tully*, 26, receptionist
I got married when I was just 19, and six months pregnant with our first child. As a young couple we’d had lots of fun together, travelling the world and spending lots of time with friends. But after the wedding, and then our baby arriving, everything changed – it felt like I was with a totally different person.
Our friends and family had also been extremely apprehensive about us getting married so young – particularly my mum. She questioned me a lot about whether I was doing the right thing. And I lost a lot of friends – my entire high school group cut me off because I was with him, and because he was so rude to them. With my rose-coloured glasses I just let it happen. Some other friends were really excited but more for the idea of someone they knew getting married, I think.
We split in April 2019 – just about two weeks after our two-year anniversary. Our relationship had become very strained - he wasn’t a helpful Dad, very much a 1950s partner and I had been suffering immensely from postnatal depression.
I had been isolated from my friends and family and pretty much suffocating. My child was also suffering the brunt of our relationship and the final straw was when he started ripping his hair out from the stress of being at home.
The separation was awkward. I texted my husband while he was at work and said I don’t want to be with him anymore, and packed up my things and left. He tried to talk me out of it and acted like it was a huge shock. It really wasn’t.
It was weird being divorced by 30 - and it still is weird. People are really shocked when I tell them I’m divorced. It doesn’t feel real almost, like I’m too young for it to have been real. A lot of it feels like a fever dream.
I rang my mum the morning I left him and said ‘I think I’m done’. She said ‘cool, let’s pack up your stuff and get out then’. She took my stuff to her place so I wouldn’t be tempted to fall back into the relationship. My friends all said they had seen it coming. They were all happy for me to be rid of him. I only had one family member telling me I was making the wrong decision. We had a very painful relationship for a long time.
It felt like I had failed. I think that feeling is quite natural. When we first got married the idea was always to be together, so what happens when that idea is completely destroyed?
The life I had envisioned with him when I was 19 was taken away and had become something else entirely. I was also worried I’d failed my child by not giving him a ‘stable two-parent household’.
And while I have no regrets with my decision, I still hold a lot of hurt about the failure of the marriage.
After we split it wasn’t a huge adjustment as a single parent. There were of course days when it was really difficult, but I was experiencing ‘single’ mum life within the relationship already so the jump wasn’t that hard. It was probably a blessing in disguise - he was forced to step up when he had our child because I wasn’t there. Adjusting was probably hardest on our son - he was too young to understand what was happening.
None of my friends had been married so it was weird to be divorced. For a long time, it made me feel out of place – somehow like I was a fake. But these days all my friends ask me for marriage advice so I am the ‘dos and don’ts’ queen of the friend group.
I’ve kept my engagement and wedding rings in my son’s memory box. They were a part of the life I had when he was brought into the world. If he doesn’t want them, he can get rid of them when he’s older.
But as for my wedding dress... My friends and I threw a divorce party. We ‘fake married’ one of my friends in the dress and there were lots of drinks. Eventually the scissors came out and there was also a fire pit. One thing led to another and the dress went up in flames that night. It was very therapeutic for me with lots of laughs.
While I didn’t actively date until I was about 6-7 months out of the marriage, I was absolutely ‘getting back out there’ about two weeks after. It sounds so harsh, but a girl wasn’t having her needs met and I had an itch to scratch. I had a really terrible relationship for my first round and I was a real man hater for about two years after that because it was really traumatising. Then I met my current partner and now all of that is history pretty much. He was about four years post marriage.
When I first started dating properly, I was pretty straight up and just told my dates I was divorced. Most didn’t really care, or thought it was ‘cool’ or interesting. My ex used it against me a lot though which caused so much unneeded anxiety, so I held off telling my current partner until I was about five months in with him.
I cried telling him because I thought he would judge me. He said he already knew because he had Facebook stalked me. Tears wasted! He didn’t care at all.
Before that I did date one guy who would work himself up about me having been married. He was constantly bringing it up in arguments. That’s probably the worst experience I’ve had with a reaction towards it.
Going back on to the dating scene was awful. I felt like I was a 50-year-old woman meeting a whole bunch of testosterone-fuelled boys who just needed to sleep with anything that moved which was not what it was like when I was 19. It was a really disconcerting experience.
I also found Tinder quite boring so I would do a lot of matching and then deleting the app. Repetitive conversations and people asking what a good movie is can really grate on you.
That said, I met my partner on Tinder - but we nearly missed each other because I deleted it the afternoon we matched.
I didn’t think I would marry again. But I’m at a point now where I know what I stand for within myself and for my children so I’m far better equipped at knowing what I’m getting into and what I want from a marriage.
My current partner and I have had many conversations around our values for a marriage and how we would deal with any and all kinds of conflicts. It feels more prepared. If for whatever reason things don’t work out between us though, I’m done. I don’t want to be a part of the dating pool of this generation. I’m too old. If it’s not him, it’s no-one.
If I did get married again the wedding would be entirely different. My last wedding was very Christian and I’m not even a Christian. I’d want something much smaller and way more relaxed – and no heinous dress again. And I also wouldn’t be 23 weeks pregnant so there would be one heck of a party, and hopefully I wouldn’t be crying at the start of the aisle because I really didn’t want this again.
Brooke*, 36, Occupation Consultant
We met when I was just 17 – and he was nearly 30. We were married two years later.
I was infatuated with him. In my eyes nothing he could say or do was wrong - I think his age influenced this.
I think being so young I was too naive and immature to see the issues in our marriage – and I never told anyone about them because I didn’t want to let my family down.
He wanted me to be the perfect young, blonde trophy wife and make him look good in front of his clients. And after every event we went to he’d sit me down and give me a full, critical report of how my behaviour had been.
He was also a different culture to me, and his family frowned upon him being with a ‘white girl’ as we are ‘trouble, promiscuous and quick to divorce’.
So, I was determined to prove them wrong. I tried so hard to be the perfect wife for him, but he failed to be the ideal husband for me.
He started drinking a litre of whiskey a night, and it became clear he was an alcoholic.
When he was drunk, he’d say things like: “If I hurt myself while I’m drinking, you would be liable and the courts would come down on you as a neglectful wife - as you’re sober and are to look after me”.
Most nights he’d pass out on the toilet and I’d have to sit next to him all night holding his head up so he didn’t fall and hit anything.
I was miserable – but I was trying so hard to have the life my parents did and do what was right by society.
His drinking eventually got so bad he had to leave his job, so I was supporting us financially.
He told me that if I left him, he would haunt me for the rest of my life and make sure every happy moment was destroyed.
My health quickly declined due to a chronic illness, the pressure of supporting us and earning enough to support his drinking. That was on top of trying to keep up appearances – I was exhausted. I ended up having a nervous breakdown and tried to take my life because ‘to death do us part’ felt like the only option.
He continued to drink, I ran out of money and was diagnosed with psychosis. That’s when I told his family he was their problem now.
I had not only stopped loving him, I stopped loving myself - and I was petrified of what he would do if I left. But the moment I got out I realised so many people loved and supported me and the world was not scary on my own.
But I still felt like a failure. I had been the first in my friend group to get married, and now I was the first to be divorced. And I walked out of the marriage with less than nothing – because all his debt was in my name. It’s been 10 years now and I’m still paying off his debt.
It took me years of therapy to realise that what I thought was love wasn’t healthy, that I am a worthy person and I am not here to serve my partner. But I still felt like I was just baggage and secondhand, no one else would want me.
Everyone was relieved when I left him. They told me they had seen for years what was happening - but I had been so blind that no one could get me to see the truth. I thought I hid it well from everyone, but the abuse was so bad it was written on my face.
And while I felt like the biggest failure, I know now I actually helped others my age see that it is ok to leave if things are bad. People need to know that it’s ok to start again. Marriage is hard work, but if it’s more than that - if it’s abusive - you need to leave or get help.
Soon after I left I threw my wedding dress away – and I had to pawn my rings to help pay off the debt he had left me with.
After I finished therapy, I joined Tinder and wrote on my profile that I was divorced because I didn’t want to waste anyone’s time if they could not accept me for me. And it weirdly was a great ice breaker for conversation too.
I struggled with dating though, I couldn’t remember how to flirt or go through those first stages of a relationship. But I knew what I wanted in a partner now, and what traits were non-negotiable.
I then met my now partner and he was horrified about what I’d been through.
We might get married, but I’ll never want another wedding. After being landed with all of my ex’s debt, I’m so committed to being frugal with money and investing for the future. I’d just want a nice lunch with family and friends.
Sinead Corcoran Dye is an Auckland-based writer, copywriter and communications specialist with a decade of experience in lifestyle content. The mother of one and stepmother of two’s first book on motherhood will be published in February 2025.
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