I loved being a wife. Just the word wife evokes inside of me feelings of being loved, cherished and protected. It says I have a life partner, security, and guaranteed intimacy without any of the concerns of modern dating.

I hate the idea of being divorced. It’s a label that strongly reads “Failure” to me. I failed at the thing that singularly I held most dear and important to me. 

I lost my identity in that marriage. I was so focused on making him happy, making sure his and our families needs were met, that I lost me. We were so intertwined that I didn’t know where he stopped and I started. We were like a knitted scarf, with the yarn so tightly knitted that when our marriage became unraveled there was just a pile of used yarn, a pile of me. 

It’s such a sense of loss, a sense of disappointment in this man who I loved so fiercely. I had wanted him to fight his demons and fight for us. I felt like I had been robbed of a lifetime of happiness with my soulmate. 

Somewhere I got into a routine. A daily walk where I would reflect and think and at some point I surrendered the feeling of loneliness, despair, and failure. I wasn’t going to be defined by a failed marriage. I was raw and fragile, but daily my courage and strength returned and grew greater than ever before. I felt a newfound sense of freedom. I made the choice not to be a victim, to take responsibility for my shortcomings and to grow as a woman. 

Now I live with no animosity. I cherish the memories I had from my marriage and will love him in some capacity forever. I am also so grateful, for him setting me free on the path to greater happiness than I ever imagined. I now know that I am whole, even though I no longer have a partner. I am on this incredible journey and I feel like my life is just beginning. I wake up with a renewed sense of purpose, a new excitement for life.

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