Redacted: What Divorced Women Aren't Telling You

Introducing a new call for submissions

I am thrilled to share a new call for submissions with our Midstory community today. Introducing Redacted: What Divorced Women Aren’t Telling You— an anonymous publication for women to share the stories about divorce they have been unable to tell.

In the months after my divorce was final, I taught a workshop called Writing Divorce, to give divorced women a safe space to process, share, receive support, and express themselves. In preparation for the course, dozens of anonymous women shared their experiences with me in a survey. After reading responses from so many divorced women and facilitating the workshop—not to mention integrating the stories of my numerous divorced friends and my own experience—so many similar themes emerged. And my blood began to boil.

In the weeks leading up to my mediation a year ago, I finished reading Lyz Lenz’s groundbreaking book, This American Ex-Wife: How I Ended My Marriage and Started My Life (if you are interested in this project, you absolutely need to read this book if you haven’t already). In addition to sharing her own personal story,

lyz synthesizes data and presents thoughtful analysis on the experiences of divorced women in heterosexual American culture. It is grim; it is devastating; it is infuriating.

Lenz writes, “We've been making it an individual rather than systemic issue, a “What's wrong with me?” or “I'm a good man” rather than looking at how the structure of heterosexual relationships is oppressive, how we celebrate the martyr mother archetype and denigrate the selfish woman who blows it all up so she can live free.”

When you are a divorced woman, you have stories. Some of them you spill in hushed whispers at happy hour or confess in sobs to your mother over the phone. Some you document in detail to your attorney or to a Child and Family Investigator. Some stories are for your therapist. Many of them are stories you hide from your children. And even more of them are stories you carry alone like a lump in the throat.

Whether or not you are one of the fortunate women who has a robust support system—close friends, an engaged extended family, community connections, a fantastic lawyer—the reality is that many of us have stories we have to conceal from the general public. We cannot share what we have been through, not without great cost to ourselves, to our children, to our families and friends. And to the men we protect with our silence, whether or not we believe they deserve that protection.

Reputations are at stake, not to mention propriety. As Taylor Swift writes, “No one likes a mad woman.” I mean, some things are just better kept quiet, and who are we to make a scene by publicly airing our dirty laundry? It is undignified to list your grievances and talk about personal matters publicly.

What would people think? Drama queen. High-maintenance. Narcissist. Bitch.

Should we—the women, the caretakers—tell these sacred stories with all their pain and shame and indignity, there would be consequences we are not willing to bear. In fact, we have been bred to keep these secrets. We are the ones who keep the boats unrocked, the mealtimes pleasant, the skeletons hung tidily in closets. We are the sweepers of unspeakable things under rugs and the carriers of traumas.

I believe that this phenomenon is systemic, and that the silence of women has been baked into the expectations of marriage. It is written into the bylaws. Modern marriage and divorce is underwritten by an unspoken truth that women will do whatever they have to in order to protect their children, the peace, and the reputation of the family. There is no bluff to call—it is a foregone conclusion that regardless of how poorly you behave, she will cover it up.

The Details

The Redacted weekly Substack column will feature anonymous personal essays about the author's experience with divorce as well as shorter form stories. A selection of longer form anonymous stories will be published as a print and digital anthology in 2026.

Writers can submit a personal essay to be considered for the Redacted Substack column and/or a forthcoming anthology, a one-sentence reflection for "Tiny Truths," or 300-word micro-essays for "Divorce Dispatches: Revelations and Reckonings."

Submission guidelines:

Subject matter: Any topic related to your personal experience with divorce
Submissions close on June 30th.

• Anonymous personal essays for Substack column: 750-2000 words

• Anonymous personal essays for print/digital anthology: 1000-3000 words

• 300-word micro-essays for Divorce Dispatches

• 1-sentence submissions for Tiny Truths

WRITERS MAY SUBMIT THE SAME ESSAY FOR CONSIDERATION IN BOTH SUBSTACK AND THE PRINT ANTHOLOGY, and are welcome to submit to more than one category at once.

Tell us about the day you left. Tell us about your mediation over Zoom, what it cost you to move or stay, how it feels to co-parent with your ex-husband, how you threw his toothbrush into the trash. Write about the moment you knew; write about the first anniversary; write about the audacity of his attorney or the passive aggressiveness of his mother. Tell us about his affair, or yours. Write about what it feels like to have "50/50" custody when you are parenting project manager. Tell us the secrets you have been carrying. Pour onto the page your rage, your shame, your grief, your glee, your ambivalence.

Your story might be heartbreaking or hilarious or shocking or relatable. You might make us cringe or gasp or weep or burn with rage or nod our heads or write our senators. Write the story that has been weighing on you, and release what you have been holding. Tell us the truth, and know that none of your story will be redacted.

This publication welcomes perspectives from women, non-binary, transgender, and gender-diverse writers, excluding cis-gender men. Redacted will showcase unique voices, writing styles, and points of view—writers of all ethnicities, cultural backgrounds, socioeconomic statuses, and other diverse lived experiences are encouraged to submit.

Learn more about submission guidelines and submit your work here. You can read more about the origin of this project on my personal column, The Reclamation Era.

Please share this post with other divorced writers you think would be interested, and you can click the submission page to learn other ways to support this project and contribute to paying authors for their work. I have been overwhelmed with gratitude from the support for Redacted in the past few days—thank you so much for your comments, your solidarity, and for sharing with other women. I look forward to holding your stories and adding your voices to the chorus of women who have been silent for too long.

With gratitude,
Steph