Divorce wasn’t the end of my story. For a long time, it felt like it was. When my marriage ended, it felt as though everything I’d worked for—my home, my dreams, my identity—was falling apart. I had poured so much of myself into being a wife that I didn’t know who I was without that title. The life I thought I’d live forever was over, and it left me lost and broken.

But endings are often disguised as beginnings, and though I didn’t see it at first, my divorce was the start of something new. It was a moment where I had to stop and ask myself questions I hadn’t considered in years. What do I truly want? Who do I want to become?

For so long, I had settled—not just in my marriage but in how I saw myself. I had been trying so hard to make someone else happy that I forgot my own happiness mattered too. Divorce forced me to confront my fears and doubts, but it also reminded me of something I had lost along the way: my worth.

This wasn’t just about picking up the pieces of my life; it was about building something entirely new. I stopped seeing myself as someone who had failed and started seeing myself as someone with a second chance. I began pursuing dreams I had put aside—small ones at first, like taking a class or going on a solo trip, and bigger ones later, like changing careers or moving to a new city.

Divorce didn’t break me; it rebuilt me. It reminded me that I deserve love, respect, and joy—starting with myself. That chapter of my life may have ended, but it didn’t define me. Instead, it gave me the strength and clarity to take control of my story and write a future I’m proud of.