Navigating life as a divorced mother for the past 10 months has been a challenging journey. I don’t consider the year prior, when we were separated, because I held onto the hope of reconciliation. Thus, it’s been a little while now—just enough time to begin processing the emotional fallout.
Here’s the reality: I feel broken.
This isn’t about still being in love or yearning for a partner in my life. My heart has certainly taken a beating through this process. I fought for our marriage much longer than I should have, clinging to the love I had for him, even when it was clear that change was unlikely. While some wounds have healed, the voids created by my new life as a divorced mom persist.
My daughter is 6 years old. She now splits her time between two homes, each with its own distinct parenting style and lifestyle. She has to adjust to these stark differences and often recalls a time when we were a complete family. She remembers the days of asking Daddy for something when Mommy was busy, and the safety of having both parents under one roof. The absence of that unity leaves a palpable void in her life—and that void is what breaks me the most.
I understand that divorce is common today; it’s been the norm for decades. But just because it’s prevalent doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt—especially for children. My daughter may not exhibit severe behavioral issues or signs of deep depression; she seems well-adjusted, yet she feels the pain of our separation. She worries about hurting our feelings, like when she prefers to be with me on her dad’s visitation nights. She still asks if her dad will ever move back in with us, and that question cuts just as deeply now as it did the first time.
This isn’t the life I envisioned for her or for myself. I didn’t sign up to parent alone. Yes, we co-parent, and at times we do it quite well, but it still falls short of my expectations for our family. The absence of a partner is a significant void for me. I never intended to navigate parenting by sending my child back and forth between two homes. More than that, I never wanted to look across the dinner table at an empty chair or find myself alone on the couch after putting my daughter to bed. Making decisions on my own or dealing with a sick child at 2 a.m. without support is incredibly painful. It’s not just anyone missing; it’s the person who helped to create this life with me.
I often grapple with jealousy and envy when I see intact families while out with my daughter. Watching friends share joyful moments on social media during anniversaries and holidays can be tough. It’s a struggle to suppress the bitterness that sometimes arises.
The void I feel when my daughter is with her father can be overwhelming. Those nights without her are filled with a sense of hollowness. I pass her empty room and experience a pang of loss, knowing I can’t be the one to comfort her if she wakes up scared or feeling unwell.
While I appreciate having moments to myself—that brief respite from parenting—it’s not the break I ever wanted. I still find myself worrying about whether she’s eating well, if she’s happy, or if her homework is completed. It’s a different kind of burden.
People often tell me I’m “lucky” because her dad is involved. I don’t see it that way. It’s not luck when the man I chose to marry and have a child with decides he doesn’t want to fulfill his role as a husband or even a fully present father. While I’m glad he’s contributing somewhat, I would prefer a situation where both parents are fully engaged and together as a family. Instead, I’m left to navigate the challenges of co-parenting with what I have.
This sense of brokenness can be isolating, and I’ve let it overshadow much of my joy. There were countless nights spent crying over the pieces of my shattered dreams. Last year, I was deep in the throes of the divorce process, witnessing my life unravel. Now, the dust has settled, and while the mess remains, I realize that some things will always be broken.
What I’ve learned is that instead of attempting to fix what’s shattered, I can create something new and beautiful from the remnants. I’m slowly understanding that embracing my new reality requires a degree of independence and resilience. Living with some brokenness is a part of my journey, and it’s okay.
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In summary, divorce brings lasting changes that can leave both parents and children feeling broken. Yet, through acceptance and the creation of a new normal, there is potential for healing and growth.
