After My Divorce, I Vowed To Stay Single—And Spread My Love Of Art
(Photo: Christin Carruthers)
I was open to getting married when I was younger, but I never met the right person. By the time I was in my late 30s, I was busy with my job on Vancouver Island as a group homes manager for people with developmental disabilities. Then I reconnected online with an old friend, whom I’ll call Stan. We dated for six months before I married him at the age of 40.
There were signs early in our marriage that Stan had a gambling problem: He went over budget at the casino, insisted on always checking the mail and discouraged me from buying too many groceries. In 2013, I discovered that he had gambled away tens of thousands of dollars online. I gave him an ultimatum: get the gambling under control, or I would leave. We sought counselling, and he agreed to self-exclusion from B.C.’s casinos and to install software on his laptop that blocks gambling sites.
I wanted to believe everything was fixed, so in my naivety, I let him continue to manage our finances. I took on an additional job part-time and started a home-based business to help pay off the debt. I also handled the shopping, cooking and cleaning. Marriage made me put my feet into my mother’s submissive slippers.
One day, about 10 years ago—and a decade into my marriage with Stan—I went to the mailbox and found a Visa statement. When I opened the envelope, I saw an amount owing that was even larger than the previous gambling debt Stan had accumulated, which was still outstanding. We would have to sell our house to pay off the debts. I knew our relationship was finished. At 50, I was starting again from zero.
I had a hard time after the marriage ended. I had lost my childhood friend, and I still loved him. But I also felt free to spend my money the way I wanted to, and I was glad I wouldn’t have to take care of someone else, since my job already involved caregiving. Instead, I could focus on me. The divorce allowed me to ask: What do I want for my life?
I started painting. I wasn’t particularly good, but it gave me a lot of emotional relief, so I kept at it. Four years later, I quit my day job to pursue creating and teaching art as a career. In 2019, I refurbished a 1960s school bus to live in. I wanted to interview local artists and write about them on my blog, as well as teach painting classes. But before I could travel anywhere, the pandemic hit. My friend invited me to park my bus and teach art at her farm in Shirley, B.C., and I started offering free lessons to essential workers, which morphed into an art therapy class.
I lived on the bus for a couple of years, but now I have a condo in nearby Sooke, B.C. The bus is still parked on my friend’s farm, where I host what I call “art hootenannies.” They involve painting, eating lunch and homemade ice cream sandwiches, and having a hoot together! I am proud to say that I’ve inspired a lot of artists since I started Sheels on Wheels.
I’m now 60 and a happy single gal. The loves of my life are standard poodles—first Stroodle, who passed away in 2022 at the age of 13, and now Blueberry. Dog love is so fulfilling. Blueberry doesn’t pay the bills, but she also doesn’t gamble. It’s a win-win.
My dreams for the future include painting a perfect landscape or portrait that stirs emotion, or writing a play that moves an audience. If I can be outside, paint and enjoy the company of my friends and community, I will be a happy person.
