Recently, I went to high school Back-to-School night with my first husband, Mike, and we ran into a colleague of his I’d never met before. “This is Christine,” Mike said brightly, and then he hesitated. “My, um, my…ex-wife.”
As soon as we walked away, he apologized. “I’m so sorry for introducing you as my ex-wife. It’s such an ugly term. I should have just said you were Molly’s mom, but he doesn’t know Molly, so I wasn’t sure what to say.” We have been divorced for ten years; we’ve both been re-married for five. I harbor no ill feeling about being called Mike’s ex-wife, but I was touched by his sensitivity and kindness. At the end of the evening, he even opened ...