I have always defined myself by my fierce independence.  I decided very early in life that I would never get married, and then I turned 40. There's something very strange about society and the traditional standards we still hold dear,  like marriage.  I have received much judgment for my non-conventional lifestyle.  I am a single, self employed, home owning woman in my 40s. I am a hairstylist and talk all day long,  mostly to women. I have heard all of their life struggles and accomplishments.  Often people discuss their relationship drama,  and it has often reinforced my desire to stay unmarried and independent.  I do not envy the life of married people.  I have a romantic heart,  and marriage is not generally romantic, it's a lot of hard work.  Statistics show marriage is beneficial to men,  in regards to longer life but the same is not true for women.  I have jokingly said for years,  when science shows marriage is equally beneficial to women I'll do it. 

But something inside me changed when I hit 40. I panicked about retirement.  Self employment has huge benefits but one difficulty is planning for retirement.  I have had an adventurous life and often travel internationally. I had a Facebook friend who wanted to marry me, he lives in Algeria.  At first,  I laughed about it.  But the more we talked,  the more consideration I gave his offer.  I had met another friend in Istanbul and had the best 2 weeks of my life, so it made me more open to this prospect. I followed a checklist this time, instead of following my emotions at first. I thought maybe that was a better way to start a marriage.

In September of 2019, I flew by myself to Algeria. I did research about the country, politics, religion, and culture. I spent a month there, meeting my husband face to face,  his friends, and family.  He's from the Berber village in Khenchela, Algeria. I was the first American to ever be a part of that village.  I was also the very first American to cross the Algerian/ Tunisian border where we did.  We legally married in Tunisia because the process was more expeditious. I had an amazing experience and was a good representative for Americans, showing respect to the people I met. Algerian people were open and kind,  my family there was loving and generous.  It is a hard life for women in that village. It is pretty traditional and girls there aren't usually headed for university so they wait for marriage to have purpose, so much work in the home cooking and cleaning with limited resources.  Algeria has had an economic crisis for years,  and Covid is the first to stop protests in the capital city for over 2 years.  The poverty there makes poverty in the United states seem privileged in comparison. Despite that,  I felt like a princess,  the month was filled with excitement and so much spoiling of me.  The men who traveled with me,  made sure I was comfortable, cared for, and that I felt safe.  Coming home, I was surprised at how much love and the depth of emotion I truly felt.

When I returned to the US, one thing I really took note of,  was how being married somehow changed other people's behavior.  It was like I finally entered the club. Interestingly,  it wasn't much different than in Algeria where the women wait for marriage to have purpose. I laughed to myself  because these same women who vent about their husbands were so happy that I FINALLY got married. 

Fast forward to March of 2020. I planned another visit,  this trip would look different,  because my husband and I would have days to ourselves. This felt really important to me because the last trip was celebratory and we didn't have a single day dedicated to being alone.  Be careful what you wish for.  I boarded my plane for travel on March 4, 2020… just days before Covid would become a real international crisis.  I knew enough to bring sanitizing things for the plane and my hands, but was not required to wear a mask at that point. My plan was 21 days in Berber,  staying at my husband's house, in the countryside,  just the two of us. 

We spent 2 days in Algiers so I could recover a little from jetlag following more than 24 hours of travel. From the very first few minutes I arrived things felt different, my husband was inconsiderate and stressed. He didn't seem to think about my safety as an American woman in a foreign country.  He left me alone with my luggage for almost an hour in front of an international airport. When we arrived at the hotel,  he only complained about the expense(for which I paid). Getting to Berber felt like a relief.  But within days of my arrival Covid hit Algeria and things shifted. The entire country shut down,  no taxis, buses, or airplanes were running.  Still today, Algeria is one of the countries that has remained closed down.

I did not step foot outside the house for 7 weeks. I got stuck… what was planned for 3 weeks turned into almost 3 months.  I think covid became a great excuse for my husband to control every single move of my trip. Things went from bad to worse.  I basically was locked in a house relying on him to buy food and ensure I was cared for,  but he was angry and ugly the entire time.  Controlling every aspect of my time. 

I will give myself huge credit for my internal strength and survival skills.  I had fight or flight feelings everyday… What do you do when you can't fight or you can't flee? You dig deep. I have coping skills I didn't even know I had.  I cooked, I washed my hair often so I could blow dry my hair,  the warmth of the air and the steady soft noise comforted me. What a beautiful thing that the very tool I use to gain independence through work in the United States gave me tranquility in a crisis situation. I suffered so much weird abuse… I got the point that I needed help.  I started emailing and calling the American embassy.  The problem was,  there were no American flights out of Algeria,  and I was outside of embassy territory so nobody could pick me up.  I had to strategize my way into convincing my husband to rent a car and get me to the capital city Algiers,  11 hours away.  I was not in fear of my life, but I was in fear of him keeping me there indefinitely. He did scream at me, "You're not going ANYWHERE" when I was trying to convince him to get the car.  The embassy was helping me get onto a German flight if I could get myself to the airport.  I called my friend who is a man in Algeria to help. I told him I needed him to pick me up because I was scared of my husband.  He couldn't,  culturally that would be inappropriate and he didn't fully understand the gravity of my situation. The hierarchy of respect there is elders, men, and then women.  So I called my mother.  I told my husband if I call my mom,  there was no turning back, as a 42 year old American woman 5000 miles away from home,  to verbalize "I am scared I cannot leave" made my situation a reality.  But he wouldn't listen,  so I called.  My mother insisted that he get the car,  that I needed to return for work and for my home. He listened.  By the next day,  I was on a plane headed to Frankfurt.  The moment the plane took off, it all came out … tears of relief. 

When I got home, the magnitude of relief and gratitude I felt to be safe,  to be in a home with hot, running water,  and my very comfortable and expensive bed was immeasurable. These last several months have been a time of healing and contemplation.  I have had some weird manifestations of anxiety.  I constantly check my key when I leave my house. To know that I can safely enter my home is important.  I am working through my grief and likely PTSD. I had finally given someone commitment,  like I had given my work and myself for my adult life. I joined an entire village and family who really loved me. I loved my husband, and was embracing a different religion and culture.  I did my research.  I have several other friends who have married through internet connections internationally and have been successful. I refuse to let this harden my outlook.

Coming home, I got tired of explaining what happened.  To fight racism on top of recovering has been exhausting.  I did not experience a cultural problem,  I experienced a person problem.  There are women everyday in the United States that are trapped by their spouse, who suffer abuse at the hands of someone who promised to love them. Women's number one threat around the globe are men, often men who they love and who love them.  I am grieving,  I am recovering.  Although my experience is not very conventional, my experience is similar to other people going through a divorce.  The end of a journey,  where hopes, dreams,  and plans are made with another person is difficult,  painful,  and exhausting.  The hours of explanation are grueling. We all need compassion and love.  And to redefine ourselves as individuals.  Fortunately, I have spent many years getting to know myself alone.  For me, the loss is different than someone who spent years inside of a marriage.  But it is real.  My hopes and plans are what I grieve.  Navigating life alone and to be joyous in that process is what I aim to achieve.  Going back to the drawing board alone to make a life plan. Taking care of my physical body,  my mental health,  and remembering the spirit are all pieces of my journey. 

I will hold onto my adventurous spirit, my open mind, and try to have an open heart.  Part of recovery is the pain and grief. But to not let those feelings shatter your own hopes and dreams is the goal.  To remember the beautiful parts is also important.  I love that I was willing to travel to North Africa, to a Muslim country,  to a world so very different from ours. To acknowledge and show respect to the generations of women there who work so hard was important. To have an open heart makes me who I am.  My Arabic name I chose is Hafsa…it means lioness. Everybody in Algeria told me "Hafsa you have the biggest heart". I will keep that,  and I will remain fierce.  

Jen Proctor

When I started Alimonia Life I was unsure of the direction, I just knew that I wanted to
create a safe space for anyone who found themselves on the road to divorce.
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