There are times in life when the ground gives way without warning, and everything you believed was secure suddenly falls apart.
For me, that moment came in my own living room, when the man I had built a life with announced he wanted a divorce. He said he was leaving—and that I would “manage somehow” with our four children. The shock was profound, but what lingered most were his final words: detached, dismissive, and void of care.
That night, instead of begging or arguing, I packed what I could. I gathered the children, closed the door on a home I had spent more than a decade nurturing, and stepped into the unknown. The marriage ended shortly after, leaving behind fear, grief, and confusion—but also a quiet clarity that grew stronger with time.
