My Divorce Story: The First Day of the Rest of My Life

Spoiler alert: There’s a happy ending.

Three years ago today, my husband left me.
The reasons don’t matter because the story is not about him.
It’s about me.
If you are reading this and think any thought about how you feel sorry for me, don’t.
Sure, it was bad, but it has gotten so good.

But there I was, sitting on the floor in the nursery, holding my 3-month-old.

“I just don’t want to do this anymore, Michelle” he said.
I felt sick.
My entire world swirled around me and my stomach dropped.

Postpartum anxiety, depression and birth related PTSD were ravaging my mind and body.
“How could you do this to me?” I yelled as I threw a picture across the room, hoping it would break to symbolize how he was breaking our family.
I did not sleep at all the night before while I was waiting for him to get home.
I was delirious.
Emotions and childhood trauma were bubbling up.

Anger. Fear. Embarrassment that my marriage lasted less than a year.
I worked so hard for 14 years. I hustled the entirety of my 20s so that my future kids would have a great life.

And I still ended up here.

Facing single motherhood.
I knew how hard that life would be.

I was staring down my biggest fear.
In that moment, I thought I had hit rock bottom.

Sure, in many ways, it was.
(When in reality, rock bottom came months later when I really lost everything.)

 It is hard to understand how something so bad could be viewed in a positive light, but hear me out.
I thought my life was completely over but what he had really given me was a gift.

Yes. Inadvertently, the man who left me while I was at my lowest, did me a big favor.
There was no back and forth. No arguing. No trying.
He had had one foot out the door for months.

You see, having that band aid ripped off set me on the path that has led me to where I am now.

Sure. It was like being dropped off on a deserted road, in the middle of nowhere with nothing except a baby on my hip.
And yes, it all happened so fast that I tried to claw my way back into the moving car because I knew that finding my way with a baby after being stranded would be the hardest thing I would ever have to do.

Spoiler: It was.

But I am here now.
3 years later.

A completely different person.

Feeling happiness and peace that I never knew was possible.

The path has been long and winding.
There were points where it felt like the deserted road would never end.
There were times that I felt like giving up.

Because, in reality, I was not just on a path to healing from a painful divorce, a traumatic birth or a painful 4thtrimester.
When I was shoved out of that car, I was actually forced on to the path to healing it all.
Yes, the obvious wounds.
But also childhood wounds, codependency, chronic burnout and workaholism, my eating disorder and low self-worth.

Would I have gone down that path had I not been shoved?
Yes, probably. I was already headed that way when I got pregnant.
However, I often think about how I would not be where I am today had my marriage dragged on.
What if I had spent more months or even years in a toxic situation, not getting my needs met.
I probably would have tried to continue to soldier through my PPD/PPA/PTSD versus getting a diagnosis and medication shortly after the separation. 
I probably would have gaslit myself and skipped out on the therapy.
I wouldn’t have had the revelations I had or the moments of clarity that saved my life.

But, by the grace of God, that is not what happened.
He {God} ripped that band aid off for me.
He let my ex walk out that door because He knew my life was meant for more and He couldn’t let me have doubts.

I was dropped off in the middle of nowhere with a baby on my hip.

Along the way, I had to dig deep and fight for every step I took.
I had to get really honest with myself about the things I let myself believe and do.

The road was long. But the awakening was worth it.