Few TMZ notifications have hit group chats as pointedly and dramatically as “Nicole Kidman Files For Divorce From Keith Urban” — floods of “what” and “no” and “no way” texts pinged off cell towers all around the country, if not the world. The two had been married for 19 years — a long time, especially by Hollywood standards — when the news broke that they were separating on September 30. Initial reports clarified that Kidman was filing even though “she wanted to save the marriage, although by all accounts, Keith did not.” The official cause was irreconcilable differences.

It’s hard to figure out why people who don’t know them — myself included — have taken it so personally. For one, perhaps, they did seem genuinely in love. His video for “The Fighter” features the two of them in the car together, singing and blushing, clearly embarrassed to be so earnest in front of a camera but swept up in each other. They were out and about in public plenty, going to concerts and restaurants. While many couples would, perhaps, take a separation as an excuse to get out of the public eye, headline after headline reiterates Kidman’s commitment and Urban’s lack thereof, all but cementing her side of things as innocent and unfortunate.

Despite her years of acclaim and success, Kidman still feels like an everywoman, despite being anything but. Her post–Tom Cruise divorce press run is the stuff of legend: With the photo of her in sheer ecstasy that was purportedly for an unrelated movie (mystery still unsolved), she came to embody a certain type of self-empowered freedom. And despite a number of supposedly happy years with Urban, Kidman continued to play suffering women, if not especially suffering wives, in films such as The Killing of a Sacred Deer, Big Little Lies, Destroyer, Babygirl, and The Perfect Couple. That she had a happy home life provided a warm cognitive dissonance. Kidman would continue to push the limits of her unhappiness onscreen so long as she emerged — glamorous and in love — on the other side of her fictional journeys.

Kidman and Urban neglected any kind of tasteful Instagram post with a joint statement. There’s no “consciously uncoupling” or “no secrets nor salacious events”–type sentiment to clarify that they’re copacetic, even if they’re not. Kidman went to People, with sources giving a side of the story through exclusives that paint her the hero fighting to keep their relationship together. A video from earlier in the year started to circulate where Urban sang “The Fighter” and pointed to his guitarist Maggie Baugh in a lyric that originally referred to Kidman. On top of all that, Kidman and Urban’s daughter Sunday Rose walked in Paris Fashion Week in what should have been her moment in the sun. Everything from Kidman’s pap walk to Urban’s concert video to their daughter’s career marching on feels a bit scattered and random, as though they’re keeping up with the news as fast as they can make it. Despite reports saying that Kidman and Urban had been separated for a few weeks, the announcement and the ensuing headlines have an uncoordinated chaos. They keep coming, one after another, as though Kidman is rushing to get ahead of any and all press. The panicked nature of the press spiral suggests something far more unexpected about the split — that this might have been as sudden for her as it was for those of us who saw the notification pop up without warning on Tuesday afternoon.

Kidman will be fine, of course — she’s already coming back for more Lioness — but it’s hard not to feel some degree of sympathy when personal news breaks in such an unexpected and haphazard way. It’s not often we see through the cracks of Kidman’s star, but when we do, it’s always surprising. There’s a bit in her old “72 Questions” video where she confesses to feeling “a bit raw,” the answer granting a strange moment of pause. That level of rawness, that she can conjure feelings from under the surface so suddenly and sharply, is part of what makes her so great to watch onscreen. It’s why heartbreak can feel good, but as she well knows, that doesn’t mean it ever really does.

Related

• Nicole Kidman Is Done Being Keith Urban’s Babygirl
• Big Little Lies Season Three? It’s True.
• Nicole Kidman Wakes Up at 3 a.m. to Write About Her Dreams

 Heartbreak does not feel good in a place like this.