As a British Indian divorcee, I’ve been treated like damaged goods
“It’s harder to meet someone when you’re 40 and divorced.” This is what someone said to me at a wedding recently. I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. I replied: “Actually, it’s hard in the Punjabi community, but it isn’t hard if you find someone outside your community. In fact it’s much easier.”
Twelve years ago, at the age of 28, I went through a divorce after one year of marriage. I had tried everything to make the relationship work, including seeing a marriage counsellor. But ultimately I felt I had married my husband’s family rather than him. This, among other issues, left us at the end of the road.
The failure of my marriage was hard enough, but what came next was harder. Being divorced in my community was seen as a taboo. As a Punjabi divorcee, I was treated like an outsider and found myself suffering from a deep sense of shame and stigma. I was made to feel like I shouldn’t be seen in public.
Even some of my friends and family turned on me. They didn't want to know me any more, now that I was divorced. I felt alone and let down by those I trusted. As a result, I found it hard to socialise. At a family wedding I attended abroad, I felt everyone was looking at me – and looking down on me. Some people made comments about how I should have stayed in the marriage and made it work.
With only a small handful of friends and my parents for support, I felt vulnerable and scared. Many people in the community did not accept divorcees, especially not female ones. There were no support groups. Instead it was brushed under the carpet. To be divorced was a bad thing. I would hear comments such as: “You should find someone from India”; “It’s sad you’re divorced as it’s like you’re a scratched car now”; “Maybe you shouldn’t tell people you’re divorced as men won’t want to know you otherwise”.
With no one to speak to, I became depressed and even suicidal at times. I would sit in my room in my parents’ home in west London, not eating, not talking to anyone and just crying. I felt dirty and unworthy of finding someone again and feeling loved.
The impact on my mental health was so severe, I only just managed to cling on to my job in marketing. My manager at the time told me my performance has dropped and warned me: “If this carries on you’re going to be out of a job.” This scared me. I didn’t know how to get through this painful period.
It was around this time that I came across a leaflet for a charity event. The organisers were looking for a henna artist. I had only ever practised on myself before but I decided to call them and went along to a community centre in Southall. For the first time in a while, I felt I was not being judged and I started to feel alive again.
Still, these past 18 months have been tough. I turned 40 and all of a sudden, just when I was trying to get myself back into dating and feeling like I was ready to meet someone new, the pandemic hit. I felt robbed as I watched the time slip by without meeting anyone special.
I don’t feel comfortable using dating apps and there was no other option. Dating as a divorcee brings its own set of challenges moreover. Some men in the community, including some who are divorced themselves, don’t want to meet a divorcee. There are also men in their 40s who have never been married but have an issue with someone being divorced.
I have met some lovely men along the way who are not judgmental and do understand it is much harder for women who are divorced than men. But I still haven’t met the right man and am acutely aware that as you get older it seems to get harder.
Throughout all this, henna has been my saviour. I have started to do it for events and I honestly believe it’s stopped me from falling into a deep depression. The aromatic smell makes me feel calm, and the fact it’s therapeutic and a form of art has helped me let out my emotions through the designs.
I want to start dating again but not just within my community. I have an open mind. I want to find love and someone to share my life with. For so long I have done things the way others wanted me to, but now it’s time I finally look out for myself.
Life isn’t over because I am divorced and I have no shame in asserting that today. I’m treating what I’ve been through as a learning experience. Apart from anything else, it has taught me I do not need permission from others to find someone who will love me.
