When I got divorced, I had to learn to let go. Let go of my former standard-bearing, intact-family friends, my Potemkin community, dinner invitations, unforced smiles in coffee shops. For the first three years, this was hard. In year four, it's getting easier. What helps is that I now view those who exited stage left as anchors. Anchors who, over time, proved inordinately heavy and prevented forward motion. Sailing is easier without them. Anchors away.
Here, I am a writer and change agent. Opinions: not vetted. Stories: my own.