Let’s be real: I’m a tough cookie. Life has thrown me curveballs, and I’ve managed to stand tall through them all. As a result, I’ve developed a reputation for being resilient, which seems to come with the expectation that I’ll always respond with strength and empowerment, regardless of what I’m facing.
When I bump into old friends who’ve heard about my recent split, I often get the same response: “Wow, I would have never guessed you’re getting divorced. You always look so joyful!” Thanks to social media, I’ve been able to maintain the illusion of a seamless transition into the world of divorce. You’ll find me smiling in my posts, running my small business, surrounded by my incredible friends and family, and, of course, cherishing my adorable toddler. But what people don’t see—the struggles I keep to myself—is the reality of going through a divorce in my early 30s.
Here’s the raw truth: Despite my conviction that I made the right choice, navigating this divorce feels like being engulfed by a tidal wave. Picture this: your friends are waving cheerfully from dry land, often pregnant with their second child, while you’re weighed down by cinderblocks tied to your limbs. Just when it seems like the storm is passing, a tsunami crashes down, dragging you back under while those on solid ground take family vacations to Disney World and share loving moments with their partners.
This is what it’s like to go through a divorce when your child is just 2 and still in diapers. It’s a harsh adjustment to realize that your family unit has changed, and you won’t be making family memories like attending birthday parties or taking your little one on her first trip to the Magic Kingdom in matching family shirts.
It’s a struggle, and I can’t help but wonder how others manage to answer their children’s poignant questions about divorce—especially those that seem to arise just before bedtime. I’m not seeking sympathy; I don’t need a shoulder to cry on—I have pillows for that, which often absorb my tears after I’ve held them in until my daughter is sound asleep.
However, in the spirit of honesty, which has always been the foundation of my writing and consulting career, I want to clarify why I appear so cheerful. I look happy because, despite my situation, I have the most wonderful child. When she hugs me and says, “You make me happy,” it reminds me of my purpose. I smile because, even on tough days, I hold onto the hope that tomorrow might bring something better. It’s a chance to enjoy life again, not as someone drowning in divorce but as a person ready to embrace new beginnings.
I feel incredibly grateful for my supportive friends and family, who lift me up when I need it most. I cherish them more than ever because I know what it’s like to feel isolated, and I refuse to go through that again. I keep my chin up because I want to teach my daughter that no matter what challenges life throws her way, the key is to keep pushing forward. She will learn to trust herself and rely on her instincts, even in the toughest times. Most importantly, I aim to remain as joyful as possible, ensuring my daughter always remembers that a rainbow appears after any storm—even when navigating divorce with a toddler in tow.
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In summary, while the journey through divorce is undeniably challenging, especially with a young child, it’s essential to recognize the silver linings and embrace hope for the future.