I Thought Rebuilding My Life After Divorce Would Feel Better by Now

I Thought Rebuilding My Life After Divorce Would Feel Better by Now

I thought I would be further ahead by now.

Not further ahead in getting over my marriage. For the most part, I feel good emotionally about that chapter of my life. I don’t spend my days wanting my ex-husband back.

But the rebuilding part? The stability I thought I would have created for myself by now?

That’s where I get frustrated.

I thought I would leave, build my own life, make good decisions, and eventually look around and feel like I had landed somewhere solid.

I have built a life. There are parts of it I’m proud of. But there are also parts, especially financially, that feel much harder and heavier than I expected.

And sometimes I look at it all and think: seriously? I’m still trying to figure this out?

I Miss Having Someone To Carry The Big Decisions With Me

I feel good about making decisions. I trust myself in a lot of areas of my life.

But making a decision and carrying its consequences are two different things.

What I miss about partnership is having someone who knows the whole picture. Someone who knows the finances, the feelings, the fears, and all the little details that make a big decision complicated.

Someone who can say, “Okay. We’re going to do this. We’re taking this risk together.”

And if it goes badly?

“Yep. We fucked this up. But we’re going to fix it together.”

That’s the part I miss.

My loneliness isn’t always about wanting someone sitting beside me on the couch. It’s about wanting someone beside me in the responsibility of building a life.

I can ask for opinions. But at the end of the day, I’m the one making the decision, and I’m the one living with what happens next.

Sometimes I wish someone could just hold my hand and say, “Listen. I’ve got you. I’ve got us. We’re going to be all right.”

I’m capable. I would still really like to hear that.

Sometimes I Wonder Whether Staying Would Have Been Easier

This is a thought I don’t particularly enjoy admitting.

Sometimes I wonder whether I should have just sucked it up and stayed.

Would I have had more financial stability? Would life have felt easier with another adult beside me?

I can imagine a version where the answer is yes. I can’t actually know what staying would have looked like.

What I do know is how I felt when I left. By that point, I didn’t trust him anymore. Staying in that marriage as it was wouldn’t have been good for me internally.

So I don’t want that marriage back.

But do I wish we’d had a marriage that worked? Do I wish the man I married had stepped up in the ways I needed, before things got to that point?

Yes. Sometimes I do.

When I got married, I didn’t expect to get divorced. I expected to have a partner. I expected us to build a life together.

There’s still disappointment in the fact that we didn’t.

Some Of My Resentment Is Toward Him. Some Is Toward Myself.

Every once in a while, I have the thought: why couldn’t you just get your shit together?

Why couldn’t you be the man I thought you were? Why couldn’t we have had a better life together?

Those thoughts don’t occupy my whole day. But they do show up.

And then there’s the other conversation I have with myself.

Why did I make some of the decisions I made?

Because I’m not going to sit here and pretend my divorce is responsible for every financial problem I have now. It isn’t.

I’ve made choices I look back on and think were irresponsible. Choices that have made it harder to get where I want to go.

That’s uncomfortable to admit, especially when I want to see myself as someone who makes good decisions.

Sometimes the person I’m most irritated with is me.

You did this. Now you have to figure out how to fix it.

And there’s no partner here to help me clean up the mess.

Looking Like I Have It Together Is a Very Incomplete Picture

From the outside, I think my life looks pretty good.

I have a home I love. A good job. Kids who are happy and doing well. I keep things moving.

People see that and assume I’ve got it together.

Meanwhile, behind the scenes, there are things I struggle with that can feel crippling. There are moments when I can’t see how I’m going to get from where I am to where I want to be.

And I’m embarrassed by some of those struggles.

I don’t want to announce them to everyone. Part of me worries they’ll look at me differently. Part of me expects them to say, “Well, you put yourself in this situation.”

Which is especially unhelpful when I’ve already been saying that to myself.

So I carry a lot of it privately. I go to work. I take care of the kids. I keep the house running. I try to work out the next move.

I function well. That doesn’t mean everything feels okay.

Please Don’t Call Me a Boss Babe

I really dislike the whole “girl boss” and “boss babe” thing.

I know some women like those titles. For me, they can feel like a celebration of being able to carry absolutely everything yourself.

Congratulations. You’re exhausted, but apparently it’s empowering.

I’m glad I can make decisions and support myself. I’m proud of things I’ve done independently. But I also see enormous value in having a good partner.

A person who knows the intricacies of your life. Someone who shares the responsibility. Someone who can be there when things get messy.

I don’t want to pretend I’ve become so independent that I no longer want that.

I still want it.

I’m also more careful now about who I would let into the life I’ve built. It has taken effort to get here, even if here isn’t where I ultimately want to stay.

Wanting help doesn’t mean I’m willing to hand that life over to just anyone.

I Can Give Myself Grace And Still Take Responsibility

When I make a poor decision, I have to deal with it.

I can be upset. I can have a hard day. But eventually I have to rally and figure out what happens next. How do I fix this? What needs to change? What can I do from here?

Sometimes I secretly wish someone would come and save me. Or at least tell me exactly what to do.

But while I’m wishing for that, I still have a life to run.

Giving myself grace helps me keep going. It doesn’t mean pretending every choice was a good one or excusing something I need to change.

It means remembering that making a bad decision doesn’t leave me permanently incapable of making a better one.

I can acknowledge what I got wrong without treating myself like someone I hate.

I haven’t managed every part of my life well. I also haven’t stopped trying to improve it.

Both of those things are true.

If money is the part you want to start working on, my financial reset is a practical place to begin.

There Are Parts Of This Life I’m Proud Of

As much as I miss partnership, there is something I appreciate about this stage of my life.

I can turn that energy toward myself.

I still have responsibilities. But I’m not also trying to manage a relationship or support a partner through his own messiness. I have room to examine what’s working in my life, what isn’t, and who I want to become.

That matters to me.

There are moments when I look around and feel proud. I’ve made hard decisions. I’ve made mistakes. I’ve recovered from things. I’ve kept going.

I want to let myself recognize that instead of immediately pointing out everything I haven’t accomplished yet.

Because there is always something I haven’t accomplished yet.

Apparently, I’m quite skilled at keeping that list current.

For the everyday pieces, my weekly reset helps me make a plan for the week I actually have.

I Thought I Would Feel More Settled By Now

Rebuilding my life after divorce has been harder than I thought it would be.

One income. Big decisions. Private worries. Wanting a better life and realizing how much work it takes to create it.

I feel emotionally in a good place about leaving my marriage. I still have days when I wish the marriage had worked out, and days when I wish someone was here to share the weight of everything that comes next.

I don’t know whether that little bit of resentment will ever disappear completely.

What I do know is that I’ve figured out difficult things before. Remembering that helps when I’m looking at the next difficult thing and wondering how the hell I’m going to manage it.

My life is still mine to shape. The decisions I regret don’t have to be the last meaningful decisions I make.

I can make better ones. I can protect what I’ve built. I can keep working toward the stability I want.

And I can admit that I would love someone to hold my hand through some of it.

I thought I would be further ahead by now.

I’m proud of parts of this life. I’m disappointed in others. I’m still building.

XOXO,

That Mama