I thought the end of my marriage would be the end of me. In those early days, when the reality of divorce settled in, I felt shattered. Everything I had built—years of love, dreams, and routines—had crumbled around me. I cried in the shower where no one could hear, buried myself under the covers to hide from the world, and questioned if I would ever feel whole again.

But life has a way of surprising us, even when we’re convinced there’s nothing left. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, I began to rise. At first, it was little things—a morning walk to clear my head, a phone call to an old friend, a journal entry where I dared to write my pain. With each small act of healing, I discovered something I hadn’t expected: resilience.

The person I became through the struggle was stronger than the woman I had been in my marriage. I learned to face fears I had avoided for years, to speak up for myself, and to stop apologizing for simply existing. I read books, attended workshops, and surrounded myself with people who reminded me of my worth.

Divorce didn’t break me; it transformed me. It was a painful, raw process, but through it, I found wisdom I never knew I had. I realized I was capable of standing on my own and that the end of my marriage wasn’t the end of my story. It was the beginning of the best version of me—the woman I was always meant to be.