There Was No Empathy – for men

The following is a fictional story.  On the other hand, fiction is often “truer” than reality.

Not so long ago, there lived two men, Alex and Brandon. They were best friends, sharing a similar lifestyle and activities. Both were Christians and extremely active in their church. Each had been married for over 10 years, had well-paying jobs and each had two wonderful children.

Life appeared great for them, but Alex and Brandon shared a secret that, if made known, could have shattered their lives. Their wives abused them emotionally, and both were shopaholics, racking up excessive debt. Alex and Brandon instinctively concealed their torment and humiliation from everyone. Only when the two of them met privately to play golf or pickleball could they talk about their suffering. Little did they know that within a week, these best friends would never again share their similarities.

Alex’s wife died suddenly in a car accident. At about the same time, Brandon’s wife announced that she wanted a divorce, and he would have to leave the children and “her” house.

Alex’s secret died with his wife. No one needed to ever know about the debt she left, nor the bruises in his heart. As far as everyone was concerned, she was the loving wife that Alex had always pretended she was. On the mantle, the family portraits that once distressed Alex became “hallowed shrines.” He placed one of them on the coffee table near the Bible. Deceptive thoughts and stories replaced the agonizing memories of abuse and heartache.

On the other hand, Brandon’s secrets instantly became public gossip. Everyone now knew that his wife was not the devoted woman he had alleged. His family portraits were now loathsome reminders of what had never really existed. The years of abuse, heartache, debt and agonizing memories crashed together.

Contrast of Concern

The funeral of Alex’s wife was elaborate, and the church was filled with heaps of flowers and throngs of sorrowful friends. The pastor praised the loving and faithful wife and mother.

The church family rallied to Alex’s side, laden with food and sympathy. For several weeks following the funeral, hardly a day passed without someone from the church bringing food and coming by to see if Alex and the children were alright. “If there’s anything we can do, just let us know,” echoed throughout the weeks. Everyone said how good it would be for a fine Christian like Alex to get married again, find a good mother for his children, and fill the void that his late wife had left.

Meanwhile, the concern for Brandon was not so exuberant or sincere. Although it was his wife who abused and ended the marriage, some people were sure that it must have been mostly his fault. To many of them, she had seemed to be wonderful woman.

There was no elaborate church service to help bring closure — only a desolate hour in a somber lawyer’s office. No friends contacted him or came by his apartment. People who had known Brandon almost his entire life avoided him. No one said, “If there’s anything we can do, just let us know.” There was no empathy.

Unlike Alex, Brandon’s potential for remarriage was greatly marred by the adverse opinions of some: “If he gets married again, it’ll just be for sex and someone to help him when he has the kids.” Brandon’s troubles — past, present, and future — were now on public display.

For a Christian under the conviction that divorce is a shaming sin, dealing with its actuality can be traumatic. Fears of failure, hopelessness, and uncertainty become everyday occurrences. The loneliness is exhausting. The urge to lash out at someone is overwhelming, but instead they take it out on themselves. Brandon feels like he has a big scarlet ‘D’ on his forehead and back. Family members can’t fully understand his feelings of despair. They think he was foolish for having tolerated all those years in a terrible situation.

Without cause, people Brandon had known all his life were seemingly passing judgment on him. He was the victim, but he had now become the accused. People didn’t consider the circumstances of the divorce — only the fact that Brandon was now a “divorced man.” Those two words sounded shameful to him, but just then, he felt shameful.