My Thoughts on Love and Marriage as a Soon-to-be-Divorced Romance Author
Here's to my hot divorcée summer
Hi everyone,
I’m sure you can tell that today’s post is going to be different from my usual programming of book content and author info.
Before I dive in, I’d like to add a quick note for transparency’s sake. I’ve decided not to paywall this post because I don’t believe a life update this large should be gate-kept from my audience.
You all have subscribed to this newsletter because you’ve chosen to support me, and I really appreciate that support. Now more than ever.
But because Substack is publicly viewable, I understand that newcomers may be lurking to rubberneck. I certainly don’t blame you—I’m a sucker for juicy gossip too.
All I ask is that you be kind and respectful and remember that I’m a real person behind my books. Contrary to most authors in my genre, I do not use a pen name. I’m keenly aware that I have to stand by everything I write on the internet with my full chest.
Thankfully, I’ve built a tougher skin than most. I was a reporter in a past life, and my debut novel was loosely inspired by a real-life corporate scandal I was involved in. (You’ll have to read Love Apptually to find out more about that!)
That’s why I’m offering this PSA to anyone who is reading this with ill intent: There are multiple sides to every story, but this one is mine, and I’m going to tell it.
If you’re eager to join me on this journey, please do me a favor and subscribe if you haven’t already.
With that out of the way, let’s get on with why you clicked on this article in the first place.
How I Got Here
In early September 2025, between accepting a new full-time job and celebrating my 36th birthday, my husband told me he wanted to separate. I felt completely blindsided.
We had been married for six years, together for ten, which didn’t feel long to me at all. The month before, we celebrated our anniversary with a Michelin-starred dinner and a concert featuring his favorite band. We lived an extremely privileged life—and as I told him, that life hadn’t even gotten hard yet. No kids, no dying parents, no cancer or terminal illness.
I wasn’t prepared to lose my marriage before life had even tested it.
Our divorce may be legally described as no-fault due to irreconcilable differences, but it was not mutual. I thought I had found my person, and I took my wedding vows seriously. We promised to “love who you are now and who you are yet to become.”
That promise was broken.
I say all this because nearly 70% of heterosexual divorces in the U.S. are filed by women. The vast majority of divorce content online assumes the woman is the one who left, not the one who was left. For those of you who are in that 30%, I know your heartache acutely.
It is incredibly painful to be discarded, to have someone completely check out of the marriage without being honest with their spouse. To sense that something is deeply wrong but not understand what or why. To compromise, try to spice up the bedroom, insist on counseling and doctors and whatever else it would take, and not be met with the same effort in return. Because at the end of the day, I wasn’t wanted anymore.
It’s even more painful when you’re a romance author.
After ten months of separation, I am in the final stage of divorce proceedings and will soon be single again. I’ve left behind a home and an adorable cat I thought of as my own, but neither was truly mine. My heart bled for a man I loved but who no longer loved me back.
But I’m proud of myself for moving out as fast as I did, for not begging for the bare minimum. When people show me who they are, I believe them.
Since that fateful September, I’ve had a lot of time to think about love and marriage: how I viewed it then, what I believe now, and what that means for my identity as someone who writes about happily-ever-afters.
So let’s talk about it.
What Happens When You’re Kicked Off the Relationship Escalator
Throughout my 20s, I was a serial monogamist. Like a lot of women that age, I dated with intention because I believed marriage was yet another accomplishment. I was determined to become a marketing director and get married by the time I turned 30, and I did just that. I exited the dating pool at 26 and said “I do” a month before my 30th birthday.
I felt a sense of peace, that even through mental health struggles and toxic jobs, I could weather any storm because I had a partner who would be by my side, for better or worse.
Turns out not everyone defines commitment the same way.
As someone with an anxiety disorder, it’s my worst fear realized: to have something traumatic happen that’s outside of my control.
Now that I’m back on the market, I feel like I got unplugged from the Matrix. I spent my young adulthood searching for a husband, but mine set me loose.
On one hand, it’s utterly destabilizing. But on the other, it’s liberating. I’m childfree-by-choice, so I don’t have a biological clock screaming at me. I can now date for fun, for adventure, for the hell of it—without the pressure of finding someone who’s marriage material. Been there, done that. I’m not saying I’ll never remarry, but there is absolutely no rush.
I have experienced many evolutions in my life: abandoning my religion, becoming politically progressive, and redefining what success and ambition mean in my career. Now, I’ve been forced to confront the very foundation my creative work is built on.
Writing Romance While Divorced
So, how has my divorce affected my work as a romance author? I won’t lie—It was a huge identity crisis. I was afraid I would lose faith in my genre, that I’d resent writing about characters falling head over heels when I wasn’t.
But y’all, I love love. And I’ve learned nothing is going to change that.
Romance novels are an escape from reality, especially in times like these when we need it most. They’re poetic justice and optimism on steroids.
Romance novels are hope.
Writing romance is my reminder that true love is unconditional. It’s steadfast. It doesn’t give up. It expands as we grow and age, not shrinks.
Some people will only be rich in dollars and cents. But those who are rich in love have so much more.
What About My HEA?
The good news: I’m only 36. I’m so young. I have so much life to live and love to give. As I’m learning on the “Just Getting Good” podcast from The Financial Diet, featuring women over 50, it’s never too late to start over and go in a new direction.
In this moment, I’m having a blast, dating and exploring my sexuality with reckless abandon. My motto this year has been, “Do it for the plot,” and I’m on a mission to become a more whimsical b*tch.
I may have experienced my Dark Night of the Soul, but I’m so excited for the meet-cutes to come. Anything can happen. Good, bad, and in between, I know I can handle it.
I’m ready for my hot divorcée summer! Let the fun & games begin.
XOXO
Alyssa
After reading your newsletter before this post, I had a sneaking suspicion you were divorcing - you'd dropped a hint somewhere in it - and I'm sorry to say my suspicion was correct. Nevertheless, I'll reiterate the best response I received when I broke the news 11 years ago that I was divorcing after 25 years of marriage, "Congratulations, and my condolences," because both are appropriate. The grief of loss as well as the newfound freedom of rebirth are equally real.
Never did I want to be divorced - until after "trying everything" (counseling, bad reruns of the same dysfunctional dynamic with no change, sticking it out, etc.) I realized divorce was preferable to a future of the same empty shell of a relationship I was living in. As dreaded a process as I'd known divorce would be with property and child, plus being the first in my family, and as difficult as it did actually turn out to be, the pain of staying the same was far greater than the pain and fear of change.
So I, too, was one of the 70% of women who filed, and when I did in 2015, it was as if there were an epidemic of late-40-something women divorcing along with me. Yes, marital breaking points correlate greatly with particular life stages and ages (you're at the first inflection point; I was at the second). The fact that my ex would've somehow been able to tolerate a marriage on life support without pulling the plug just underscored what a walking cliché he was. I quickly learned that too many men enjoy enough upside to staying married that they will never be the ones to walk away. They just cheat, retreat, or check out instead of doing the honorable thing. They leave it to us women (who were probably the only ones ever really maintaining the relationship in the first place) to clean up the mess. It pisses me off to no end, and they're fucking cowards for emotionally lying to themselves and us.
So I jumped ship and embarked on a decade of adult freedom, growth, self-discovery, and romantic/sexual exploration that I will forever cherish. I got to live experiences most women (especially over 50) only fantasize about. I learned more about myself, family dynamics, attachment style, and relationship patterns than I could have possibly imagined. That chapter of my life was much needed and, frankly, priceless.
You're a lot younger than I was when I divorced, but make no mistake - it's a major identity shift at any age. With that comes crisis, but I say, even more so comes opportunity - the opportunity to get to know who you are and want to be. You have a lot more runway left than I did when my marriage expired. True, adult dating is its own adventure, but it's also one of the best relationship learning labs we have, not least of all for learning how to be in a healthy relationship with oneself. (BTW if you've never read the book Attached by Amir Levine and Rachel Heller bump it up to the top of your list).
Now at 60 I'm in my first long-term relationship since divorcing, and I can't conceive of ever legally marrying again. Because as great as a healthy partnership is, I don't think it needs marriage to become fully realized. And for me now, the juice of marriage isn't worth the squeeze. The upside isn't worth the price of the potential downside: divorce. I lived the idealized life, and the reality rarely lived up to the idealization. (Does it ever?) So go forth, and enjoy your hot divorcee summer to the max!!! I look forward to hearing about your adventures and fondly remembering my own (hee hee). Besides, just imagining all the amazing romance, love, sex, and relationship adventures ahead of you must get your creative juices flowing with ideas for many more books to come. Big hugs xoxo
I would hazard a guess that the vast majority of that 70% of women filing for divorce are ALSO devastated and blindsided by their partners' failure to honor their marriage commitments but are the ones filing because their male partners are just fine with the status quo benefiting them. Either way, you are so, so very not alone in this.
I also got divorced after ten years together, six of them married. It was awful. I literally felt like the ground had been ripped out from under me, for a month or so. It was a brutal divorce with the usual betrayals: lying, cheating, taking the vast majority of the money away from me. It really, really sucked. The last few months before he asked for the divorce, I felt so bewildered by the fact that I had such severe depression and loneliness...that made perfect sense once I realized he'd been cheating. He kept the apartment and the cats. And I had to narrate romance the entire time! So I deeply understand what you're going through.
The heartache will fade over time, but the grief is very real. Losing the future you thought you had, losing the partner you thought you had, losing the identity you thought you had, feels impossibly painful. But you are not alone, either. There are so, so many of us, either alongside you or waiting for you up ahead on the path. 🫂🫂🫂
I wish you a peaceful finish to your divorce and a glorious horizon of discovering your new life, dear Alyssa. ❤️❤️❤️