After six years of marriage, a daughter, a hypoallergenic dog with questionable training skills, and a TV show documenting it all, I realized last year that I needed a divorce. It wasn’t something I ever envisioned for myself, but it became clear that I hadn’t truly considered what it meant to be married. In 2017, I got hitched, convinced that love was enough to overcome any hurdle. Now, I see that love isn’t a magic bullet, and it’s essential to think about long-term compatibility. If, after honest reflection, you doubt your compatibility – run.
The universe seemed to find humor in my situation. The morning I tearfully removed my wedding ring in a Bristol hotel, I went down for breakfast, yearning for a fresh start. What did I stumble into? A wedding fair, right there in the lobby. I find solace in writing jokes. I’ve poked fun at my marriage, my anxieties, and even, with a touch of bravery, my chlamydia. Heartbreak can be a lonely experience, but comedy, unlike some art forms, is a shared experience. When an audience laughs, they’re saying, “I understand.” Sure, they might think you’re a bit of a goofball and that they’d never make the same mistakes, but that’s okay. I’ve learned from previewing my new show, ‘Everything Always Works Out For Me,’ that the pain of a break-up is universal.
My favorite comedy finds humor in darkness. Tig Notaro gave a masterful performance about her cancer diagnosis just four days after receiving it, and Maria Bamford speaks about her mental health with a blend of vulnerability and humor. My 2018 show, ‘Slutty Joan,’ dealt with sexual assault, so my new show about divorce feels like a breeze in comparison. ‘Slutty Joan’ helped me process what happened to me. I was still battling panic attacks when I started writing the show, but by the end, I no longer felt like a victim. It’s hard to believe, but now I barely think about the assault. And I owe that to comedy (and, of course, a therapist).
When ending a marriage, connection is key. I’ve cherished meeting other single women at my shows whose lives didn’t unfold as expected. Sharing our stories is essential. When I was considering ending my marriage, I couldn’t find the information I needed. I Googled, “What is love?” and “Should marriage be this hard?” The responses were all, “Yes! Marriage is meant to be awful!” That’s not true – a healthy marriage isn’t always cups of tea in bed, but it shouldn’t drain you more than it gives. I met so many women at my recent gigs who reinforced this truth. We’re not alone, we’re not behind; we all just want more for ourselves.
Of course, divorce brought real lows. There were times when I couldn’t stop crying, but I had to pick my daughter up from nursery. So, I’d call friends and beg, “You have to make me laugh, so I don’t pick up my kid looking like Gone Girl.” They’d tell me embarrassing smear test stories or do silly dances. Despite the lows and the occasional resemblance to a kidnap-faking sociopath, I feel so free. Divorce was painful but necessary. I’m no longer walking on eggshells, except for the ones my daughter and I drop when we make pancakes (or something resembling pancakes).
There’s so much fear at the start of a divorce, you don’t know if either of you will lose your minds and turn nasty. You pray you won’t become the kind of person who meticulously divides paperclips to ensure a fair split. We somehow managed to do it without lawyers, probably because we’d rather wrestle than buy a lawyer a hot tub. Comedy is the antithesis of fear. By laughing at the enemy, we reclaim our power. You don’t have to be a comedian to apply this philosophy.
My compulsive oversharing is likely my way of dealing with shame (hence the chlamydia jokes). By voicing our secrets, we diminish their power. By crafting comedy, we reshape the narrative. It’s a way of processing. Take the memory, confront it, reframe it, brighten it, and add a Parisian filter. Sure, the last year has been tough, but laughing at its absurdity – and spicy margaritas – have made it possible.
Harriet Kemsley is currently on tour with her new show ‘Everything Always Works Out For Me.’
