Actually, I'm not fine… blog

Part 6: The Break That Saved Me

There comes a moment in life when survival is no longer enough. When the walls you built to protect yourself start to feel like a prison. That moment came for me after my first marriage ended. It wasn’t just a divorce—it was the first time I truly allowed myself to be alone, to face the world without leaning on anyone else for safety or control.

Being single, freshly divorced, and responsible for my child forced me into a space I had avoided for years: pure, unfiltered independence. I did everything on my own—laundry, cleaning, cooking, even major home projects. I had no safety net, no partner to buffer the difficulties, no one to share the burden. And at first, it was terrifying. But it was also freeing.

For the first time in my life, I wasn’t surviving someone else’s chaos. I wasn’t adapting to a parent, a partner, or a household that demanded I sacrifice my voice or my agency. I was living solely for myself and my child. Every decision I made, every step I took, was for us. And in that space, I began to understand what true resilience looked like, not just surviving trauma or hardship, but reclaiming life on your own terms.

This period also forced me to confront patterns I had carried for decades. I realized that in my relationships, I had often prioritized control over connection. I had been cautious to the point of creating distance, hesitant to be vulnerable, and resistant to intimacy. Now, living fully on my own, I could see the ways these patterns had limited me and I began the slow, sometimes painful process of unlearning them.

It wasn’t just about independence. It was about accountability and reflection. I had to face the ways my past had shaped my behavior, the choices I had made out of fear, and the moments I had avoided confrontation or vulnerability. It was uncomfortable, but necessary. Because growth rarely comes from comfort; it comes from discomfort, from examining the shadows we’ve carried and making peace with them.

Most importantly, this break taught me something fundamental about love: it isn’t about convenience, control, or fear. It’s about choice. About showing up fully, despite the past, despite the wounds. About trusting that life can be better, even if the patterns are familiar. And it’s about giving my child a model of strength, resilience, and self-respect, so they can see what healthy love—and healthy boundaries—truly look like.

Closing Reflection:

Have you ever been forced into solitude and discovered it was exactly what you needed to grow?

How often does independence, when embraced fully, teach us more about life and love than any relationship ever could?