Weddingbee Blog

Oh my goodness, how I have missed the hive. I am officially divorced and have made the switch back to my maiden name. When I started my divorce research, I was incredibly confused and overwhelmed by the entire process. I didn’t have the funds for a proper lawyer, so I knew I’d have to research and fill out my own forms. My knowledge of divorce consisted of what I had seen during my sick days in high school when I would shamelessly slurp Lipton soup while watching Divorce Court. No one in my family or circle of friends had gone through a divorce, so I turned to Weddingbee for advice.

I was eventually sent a link to the website for Philadelphia’s law library, where I discovered a self help, no-fault divorce manual. I studied all 158 pages of the PDF obsessively and made my first trip to the county clerk’s office in the beginning of the year, where I was surrounded by an interesting group of locals. For example, the father who was seeking custody of his child and scratched his beard while trying to remember his “baby mama’s” last name (seriously, he called her his “baby mama”). These were the people who would often turn to me for advice when I was waiting for my number to be called. People who were desperate for a divorce but couldn’t figure out the difference between defendant and plaintiff and would leave the office, hopelessly mumbling obscenities to the staff.

The county clerk’s office was a place I had grown to dread over these past few months. Once I had picked up and dropped off all of the necessary forms at their office, I would then have to pester my ex for his signature on a bi-weekly basis, get forms notarized and then re-file the forms at the clerk’s office. This was a cycle that lasted a good six months since you have to wait 90 days between forms to finish everything up.

For the final divorce decree, I had to use a typewriter to fill out the form (yes, a typewriter). The decree form had a special seal on it that you couldn’t print from home, so you had to pick it up from the clerk’s office. I took my shiny new divorce decree and left the county clerk’s office to head to the law library, which was about a five block walk. The law library was on the bajillionth floor of a tall building, where you had to sign your name at a security gate twice and then pay the not-so-nice law librarian $5 to enter. I grabbed my name tag and nervously approached the typewriter, realizing I hadn’t used one since I was a wee thing. I figured using a typewriter had to be pretty straight-forward, which I soon found out was a stupid assumption to make. Before I knew it, I was asking the non-smiling law librarian for Whiteout, to which I received a blank stare.

I trudged back to the county clerk’s office, where I was informed that I would need to type up a new draft and get it just right. This became a regular occurrence for the next two hours. Just when I thought I had it typed correctly, I would return to the clerk’s office to have them tell me (in a very Bill Lumbergh a la Office Space manner) “Yeeahhhhh, sorryyyy, you aren’t supposed to type the date thereeee, you’re suppos’ta leave that blank.” To which I would respond, “You mean the space that I asked you about before if I should type in the date and you smiled and didn’t respond so I assumed that meant yes?” Sigh. I think it took me five copies of the divorce decree to finally type it right. The security staff in the law library building knew me by name by the time I was finished and high-fived me on the way out for finally getting it right. Let’s not forget the security guard at the clerk’s office who had to check my purse every single time I came back asking for a new decree since I managed to mess something up each time. Yes, sir, you’ll still find my wallet, a handful of tampons and lip gloss. I promise I haven’t turned into an ax murderer.

Between filing fees, law library costs, parking a handful of times at the overpriced parking garage in Center City ($23 for an hour on a Tuesday morning, really?), I’d say the divorce cost about $400. Money savings aside, doing a “DIY divorce” was somewhat therapeutic and gave me time to reflect and let everything soak in. I feel like sometimes the emotions and reality of everything gets lost in the jumble of legal jargon when you have other people handle it for you. Being surrounded at the clerk’s office by others who were in the same boat and seeing I wasn’t the only 20-something filing divorce paperwork was strangely comforting (please know that I don’t wish divorce upon anyone, especially in their 20s). I am thankful that the divorce was a fairly easy procedure, as far as divorces go, and lucky to have had a cooperative ex who was willing to meet up with me to sign papers when needed.

When you unveil you are divorced and you are generally mistaken for an 18-year-old by strangers, the reactions aren’t always ideal. “Divorced!? Really!? You look like you are still in high school, how long were you married!? Why’d you give up so soon!?” Lucky for me, the people in my life who matter most to me… my family and friends… are incredibly supportive and see how much happier I am now (and how much happier my ex is, even).

“Encore brides” like Mrs. Mary Jane and Mrs. Cheese have been very inspirational to me and make me feel like there is nothing but hope for the future. I don’t expect all of the readers here to understand where I am coming from—but to those who were once on the same boat as me or find themselves on a similar path, please know that I’m around and always open to questions or to just lend an ear. I can only hope to be as helpful as the amazing support group of Weddingbee readers were to me when I found myself overwhelmed with questions on how I could change my future for the best and initialize my divorce. I heart you guys big time. Last year was the hardest year of my life, but this year has shown me that change is good and I can’t wait to see what happens next. Part II is coming your way soon, I pinky swear!