Going through a divorce is like being dropped at the base of the steepest mountain without any gear. At the bottom, unsure how to begin, panic descends. There are no familiar signs, no direction – only crippling fear which makes any type of movement virtually impossible.
Looking up with an exhausted sigh, wondering how to proceed, secretly questioning if I will survive. On the brink of extinction – taking baby steps as the fear pulsates. Breathing is laboured. The heights are dizzying. Falling, crying, praying as I tentatively move forward. I’m a wreck but I push forward.
Ten years later that mountain has been conquered. I’ve firmly planted my victory flag as I’ve successfully conquered this new territory. Gone are the missteps, the winds that disorient and the aimless direction. The scary cliff like moments that catapult you into disgraceful falls lead to longer plateaus of calm. My tolerance for uncertainty began to grow.
On the other side of the mountain, the bruises are barely visible, yet they can still bleed in certain climates. Looking backwards the journey was terrifying and exalting. The children are all grown, they survived. I survived too.
On the other side of the mountain is a woman with strength, wisdom and a compassionate heart. She is tough and has a true understanding of all that she is capable of. She embraced the edge, and now she knows how to fly.
On the other side of the mountain is her home, her resting place – her safe harbour to grow. If her heart remains open, she is unstoppable. This is her creative place — a space to thrive. A time to step into her divine feminine and give herself all the love she has generously shared with others.
On the other side of the mountain is the woman I always hoped I would be.
So lucky that I finally got to be me!