I didn’t know it was a thing. I just knew that, the other day while driving around listening to the news, I felt a sudden and profound sense of loss. It was transition day, and my kids were going back to their dad, so at first I figured that was it. But let’s face it, transition day happens every week and has for years; what was different about today? I’ll tell you what—the news. Three days a week I allow myself the 6 minute drive from the middle school to my house to listen to the news. We all know that it’s become a little dangerous for our souls and our nervous systems to tune in too regularly to some of the toxic storytelling that passes as news these days. And yet, to stay informed helps us in conversation and community to participate and act if needed. So: 6 minutes. But if those 6 minutes are harrowing, like when I catch another story about ICE, or another story about our president’s gross misuse of power, or his addled ramblings about the awesome job he thinks he’s doing, I sink. And I didn’t know it was a thing until I sat down with my morning cup of tea and asked ChatGPT if there was such a thing as “Institutional Grief.” Turns out there is.
Institutional Grief, also known as Institutional Loss, is a widely recognized concept in the fields of sociology, organizational psychology, education, and trauma studies. It refers to the collective grief caused by the loss, betrayal or breakdown of an institution that once provided the basic human needs of safety, identity, and meaning. When an institution that we once relied upon crumbles, we feel the loss associated with the safety and structure that that institution once provided. It can show up as feeling hopeless, disillusioned, betrayed. In fact, the term “Institutional Betrayal” goes along with Institutional Grief, because there’s also a collapse of the assumed sense of safety when an institution fails to protect or support those dependent on it, much like we feel betrayed when a beloved friend suddenly turns on us.
I suspect this is the root of that sinking feeling I, and probably many of us, are experiencing right now. And while on the large scale The Institution definitely seems to be falling apart, several of our institutions have been failing us for a while. The medical system, public schools, law enforcement…. Maybe it goes without saying that I feel this way about marriage, an institution that totally failed me, and every time I drop my kids off, part of my sadness is about that failure, too.
Let me be clear, I personally do not feel like a failure. Though some circles of society would have us feel guilty about divorce, I firmly believe that sometimes a marriage must end. Our reasons differ—whether for sheer happiness and mental health, or self-protection—it’s important to recognize when staying married is a less-healthy option than splitting apart. There is the “promise” of marriage, which those of us who’ve entered into it believe in, at first, whole-heartedly. And then there is the “job” of marriage, where we commit to working together as a team, to support each other and our children, even our communities, to grow together and, if there’s a rupture, to repair with our best efforts. But not everyone has this experience. In fact, 50% of us don’t. Half of us who get married find out that our partner is not bringing their best, but instead, their worst self to the arrangement. When that happens, there’s a loss of the safety and meaning that the institution was supposed to provide and protect. And with that comes a loss of identity, a loss of a once hoped for future.
I include in this the institution of divorce, the family court system, which for some can be a source of justice and relief, and for others can be a nightmare. Depending on the state you live in and the judge assigned to your case, on how much money you have compared to your spouse, and whether it’s not beneath them to lie about themselves or you, it can be pretty tough to get away from someone you can’t be around anymore. It’s said that Ann Bolyn, Henry the VIII’s umpteenth wife, was the first recorded divorce in history. And she was still publicly shamed and, y’know, beheaded, even though she was just trying to get away from what I’d call her abuser. Since I roam in the circles of high-conflict divorce, I see a lot more proverbial beheading than I see anything else. The system is built, it says, to protect children, but in some cases abuse is covered up, danger is minimized, and victims are forced to interact with their abusers. This is where the institution, one we are relying on for justice and safe-keeping, fails us. It shouldn’t be that hard; and there are researchers, psychologists, sociologists, lawyers, and plenty of single parents who’ve written volumes on why and how the institution needs to change.
And while we’re all feeling afraid—or infuriated—because these structures have become corrupt, what I see happening too is a beautiful solidarity among its members coming together to support one another and to make change. And we can talk all day about making the family courts safer and more aware for victims of abuse much like we can talk about how immigration policies could be more clear and organized for people who want to try for a better life in another place. But it’s not enough anymore to just say these institutions need deep and lasting change. The neighbors who carry whistles, the families attending protests, the moms in divorce groups on Social who offer experienced advice to those just getting started; these are the acts on the micro level that will surely, definitely have ripple effects through the whole system. And though the systems are breaking, the people within them are trying to form new structures that support and uplift. You don’t need a lot of money or time or resources to offer a little bit of kindness, kindness that can change the direction of where these systems have the potential to go. These are the cracks in the system where the light shines through.
Though we’ve lost faith in the structures that are supposed to protect us we do not have to lose faith in each other. While we may never get institutional accountability or repair, we can’t let our grief turn to bitterness. Every act in whichever of the institutions is closest to you is a symbolic act of resistance and thus regeneration. Transpose this formula onto your grief about marriage, divorce, or the world at large.
Here are my suggestions, taken from the researchers who write about Institutional Grief:
– Tell the truth – don’t minimize your suffering or the suffering of others; public acknowledgment restores dignity
– Reestablish agency – it will help you feel empowered if you contribute to your community with your voice, your choice, or your participation. Invest locally in family and friends
– Live outside the failed structure – build smaller, more trustworthy communities
– Make meaning of the suffering – transform it into purpose—your purpose
There is great solace to be found in community. Collectively grieving the loss of safety and well-being after breaking away from a crumbling structure will actually help you rebuild. While there are days that I am so sad about being divorced and not seeing my kids, communing with other single moms and finding purpose in supporting others through it has given my life a tremendous new sense of meaning. It has also inspired me to be a voice for change in the collective way marriage and divorce are viewed in our society. My hope is that by taking refuge in those around us who are grieving the same loss, or feeling betrayed by the same system, our work together will regenerate a new and even better support structure for all.
