As a Newly Single Mom, I’m Proud of My Strength – ryan

My greatest dreams were to get married, have babies, and build a happy family—and now I’m in my mid-thirties and, once again, looking up at the night sky searching for shooting stars to wish on. You see, my wishes did come true; I got married at 29, had my first child at 30, and welcomed my second at 31. But life threw me some major curveballs I couldn’t have seen coming.

Last summer, shortly after creating magical memories (or so I thought) at Disney World, discussing a third baby, and looking forward to what was supposed to be my time to finally prioritize some self-care after spending three years nursing babies, co-sleeping, and being everything to everyone 24/7, my husband informed me that he had spoken with a divorce attorney. After several months cohabiting, knowing he had already been in a relationship for some time, I finally moved out, 2- and 3-year-old in tow. After spending four years tending to my soon-to-be-ex husband’s schedule and career, the marital house I made our family’s home, and, of course, our babies, I’m suddenly a single mom. And I’ve never been more proud.

I’m proud of myself for fighting for my marriage until the end, despite knowing I was fighting a losing battle on my own. I’m proud of myself for doing so with honesty and integrity.

I’m proud of myself for standing firm in my role as my children’s constant, despite everything else around me turning to chaos.

I’m proud of myself for tackling the debilitating anxiety that comes with the beginning stages of navigating the divorce process. To be honest, I’m proud of myself for surviving the past half year.

I’m proud of myself for making it through months of uncertainty and continuing to push through into the unknown.

I’m proud of myself for finding the strength to walk away from the home that, for so long, housed both my most precious memories and some of my saddest moments. I’m proud of myself for finding an apartment for my babies and me that, for now, is the perfect starting-over, family-of-three home.

I’m proud of myself for continuing to be my children’s safe space, their comfortable landing place, and their safe, secure home (because, mamas, we are their homes).

I’m proud of myself for managing to find little glimmers of joy and magic in each and every trying, exhausting, still-living-life-in-limbo day.

I’m proud of myself for, little by little, finding the courage to create a brand new norm for my little crew.

I’m proud of myself for stepping back into the workforce, albeit slightly to start out, after staying home in familiar territory for so long.

I’m proud of myself for thinking ahead to my future when all I want to do is wallow in sadness and heartache brought on by the tribulations of the past and present.

I’m proud of myself for continuing to put one foot in front of the other, even when every bone in my body feels like it’s collapsing in overwhelm.

I’m proud of myself for mustering up the courage to move forward with an open heart, an open mind, and, of course, with two finally-seeing-things-clearly, finally-opened eyes.

I’m proud of myself for accepting the fact that this isn’t necessarily the time for my happily ever after, but it is indeed my time to get to know, honor, and celebrate me, as a woman, as a soon-to-be-divorced, once devoted (probably to a fault) wife, and as a mother. As one who isn’t perfect, but—as mothers do—keeps going. And I’m really proud of myself for that.

I’m proud of myself for working tirelessly to pick up the pieces of a puzzle I didn’t ask to be part of.

I’m proud of myself for swallowing my pride and asking for help from whoever possible, as needed.

I’m proud of myself for leaning on my people and finally believing that I am worthy of all the love and goodness I so freely handed out for so long.

I’m proud of myself for admitting I don’t have to do this alone.

I’m proud of myself for showing my tiny humans the beauty in genuine human emotion, and for setting the realistic expectation that sometimes we just have to feel all the feelings in all of the changing, trying seasons. And you know what? I’m proud to say that’s perfectly okay.

Am I proud of the fact that I’m getting divorced? No, not necessarily. But I’m not ashamed of it either. This journey isn’t for the weak, and through it, with all glory to God, I’m finally finding out just how strong I really am.

For that, I’m prouder than ever.