Once upon a time, I was deeply happy in my marriage, sharing my life with someone I truly thought was my forever. But then the cracks appeared—hurts we inflicted on each other. Sometimes it was the words, and in my case, often the lack of them, that built the walls between us.
Eventually, I reached a point where I chose myself. It was terrifying as hell. I have a stable job, but my parents cling to traditional values. Thankfully, I’m surrounded by an incredible group of friends who support me no matter what. Even though I’ve moved on, today feels heavy. Grief has a way of revisiting, doesn’t it? I mourn the life and love that once was—before everything fell apart.
Today, I forced myself out of bed. Twice. I fought back waves of anxiety, and I confronted the dark thought that maybe I didn’t want to keep going. But I know this is just a day. Tomorrow will bring light, and little by little, I’ll reclaim the pieces of my soul and mind that were stolen over the years. Time is my ally in healing. But for now, I allow myself to feel the grief. Today, I mourn.