Published on Friday, Oct. 16, 2009 12:00AM EDT Last updated on Saturday, Oct. 17, 2009 2:59AM EDT
Chris Evert still thinks of herself as America's sweetheart.
How else to explain why she would bolt from one marriage right into another?
Last week, it came as a surprise to many when the former tennis champion - dubbed "Cinderella in sneakers" as a teenage athlete - and her latest husband, golfing legend, Greg Norman, announced their split, just 15 months after their "fairy tale" wedding. But should it?
Being America's sweetheart has been her identity since she arrived on the scene in the seventies. She was all grit and grace - the way America prefers to see itself. She was even called "Chris America."
And of course, a sweet girl-next-door likes weddings. It's her best situ - next to a tennis court, that is.
Best of all, a wedding keeps her young; forever fresh. And that's clearly how ol' Chrissie sees herself.
I must admit (sure - a bit crabbily) that a part of me thought she was using the cliché bride image as a form of Botox last year, when she posed for Vogue in her Nina Ricci strapless wedding gown. It was the "Age-less" issue, after all.
At 53, she looked stunning, slim and toned. But the wedding dress helped.
Marriage always suggests a future. Even if you're more than halfway through your life, a wedding has a way of suggesting you are unlined, just like a frozen forehead. Your best future is still ahead.
Many people would opt out of the full-blown wedding thing on their third go. Ms. Evert's first marriage was to British tennis player John Lloyd, her second to former downhill-ski champion Andy Mill, and then she moved on to the Great White Shark, Mr. Norman. She has completed her own version of a hubby triathalon.
"I asked Greg if he wanted me to wear an off-white evening gown, and he says no, he wanted me to wear a wedding dress," she explained to the magazine. Reportedly, he liked to call her "Beautiful" and she called him "Handsome." Gag me with swizzle stick.
You'd think her history of marital failure would have made her a little more humble.
But upon news of her engagement to Mr. Norman, she appeared on Oprah, engaging in that other bit of scripted bride behaviour - hand fanned out, fingers fluttering, for all to admire the giant rock.
It's possible that she and Mr. Norman rushed to marry because a new marriage always seems greener when you're in an old one.
Mr. Norman had been married to his wife, Laura, for 26 years. They have two grown children. And Ms. Evert's marriage to Mr. Mills, with whom she has three teenaged sons, was 18 years old.
I know many people who have bolted from their tired marriages when they fell in love with a new person. Having a safe place to land in the arms of someone new is a powerful motivator. One friend had undergone years of marital therapy, unsure if she should let go, but when she met the man who would become her second husband, she pulled the plug on the first marriage.
Still, they took their time at tying the knot after she got her divorce. A gradual assimilation into her family was important to her. When he stayed over at her house, he slept in the spare bedroom out of deference to her young daughters. Their mother feared they might be confused about her boyfriend's position in the family if they saw him sleeping with her. Six years after her divorce, they finally married and moved in together.
It has been reported that the children of Ms. Evert and Mr. Norman were not fond of their new, respective stepparent. Many boomer parents take a slow approach to the possibility of remarriage and a blended family for that very reason. They are more concerned with their children's welfare and happiness than they are with their own - at least in the short term.
Aside from her concerns about her daughters' adjustment to boyfriend, my friend wanted to be sure she was marrying again not because she was afraid of being alone and not because being a Mrs. was just a habit she couldn't kick.
To sort out these kinds of feelings, some people embrace celibacy after their divorce. They want to clear their heads and think about what got them into a difficult marriage in the first place. A moratorium on dating gives them a chance to understand what they need in a mate, and what they don't. Or, if they even want one.
"I wanted a clear perspective on myself if I ever met someone again," says Karen, a fortysomething mother of three whose first marriage lasted 10 years. For four years, she refused to date anyone. "It had to be this time for me. I had to figure out a lot about myself. Too many people fall into the same pattern, and I thought, 'I can't go there. I can't bring myself down to that again.' " As it turns out, she is now happily remarried. But America's sporty lovebirds apparently felt no kind of hesitation.
"It was like an irresistible force," Ms. Evert said of her attraction to Mr. Norman, perhaps as justification for their speedy decision to marry. "How do you explain something like that?"
Uh, hormones, honey. It's really quite simple.
You weren't thinking straight. Love is a drug, a brain chemical buzz, and it can make you do loopy things.
Best to give the hormone-drug time to subside, and then see how you feel, and how your kids are managing.
Besides, when you consider that Ms. Evert shelled out a reported $7.5-million to exit her second marriage just so she could walk down the aisle with Mr. Norman, Botox is a much cheaper option.
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