03/06/2025
RESET –Out of the Ashes of Divorce
As I reflect on my journey over the past nine years, I am overwhelmed with gratitude for the rare grace and opportunity to completely rewrite my story. What began as a deeply disappointing and disorienting attempt to build a life and family in a new country, one filled with hope and promise, ultimately unravelled. But from that pain came a powerful story of restoration and an unshakable new beginning. What felt like the end turned out to be a redirection toward a life that is now more whole, more rooted, and more meaningful than anything I had envisioned at the start.
This isn’t an attempt to cast blame or to dwell in regret. I am not here to mourn the past or assign responsibility. Rather, I’m sharing a deeply personal account, shaped by both adversity and grace. This is not a nostalgic reminiscence of good times gone wrong; it is a living testimony that even life’s lowest points can evolve into something worthy and bright. It’s about how even the most broken seasons can birth new hope and a completely redefined purpose(s). I share this not just to reflect, but to offer a possible roadmap for anyone walking through the ashes of a collapsed relationship, uncertain of how to breathe again.
The subject of divorce is still quite a touchy one. It’s a stigma many quietly endure. It’s frowned upon, joked about, judged harshly, and rarely met with compassion. Cultural and religious beliefs often suppress the individual’s pain. The victims are frequently shamed, while the system that failed them is celebrated in the name of morality and tradition. Friends turn distant. Family, instead of becoming a sanctuary, becomes another battlefield. The very people you should lean on can become your biggest critics. But I was fortunate to have support and people recognized where I was, saw me, and stood by me. And perhaps, by grace or sheer stubborn resolve, I also had a little luck.
The journey was a complex one, laced with anger, resentment, moments of bold optimism, unexpected adventures, and an unwavering determination to never again walk the path that broke me. I knew that if I was going to heal, I needed to first take ownership. No one forced me into anything; the obvious signs or caution signs were mine to observe, so I learned to own that! We should all do! Our instincts, perhaps, can be a little vindictive after such situations, it comes back and reminds us. Maybe I should have asked more questions, maybe I should have acted differently, maybe sooner? Nevertheless, while the circumstances were shared, I accepted my part, completely!
How did I move forward?
Initially, there was no universal guidebook or roadmap; each person faced unique circumstances. At first, I believed I was simply doing what was best for me. However, upon reflection, I recognise a pattern and realize I had a method to my actions. Looking back, the choices I made during those early days of rebuilding were driven by instinct and a will to survive, and they proved effective. Therefore, I share my perspective not as a rule, but in the hope that someone navigating a similar path might find a few helpful insights.
Return to the Old Path:
Before the chaos, I was a planner to the core. I thrived on writing visions and always mentally or physically journaling where I wanted to be in three to five years. I wasn’t a daydreamer; I chased those goals vigorously. Whether it was financial growth, career aspirations, or personal development, I pursued everything with a sharp focus. That part of me began to dissolve during the marriage. I became less assertive, more yielding. I didn’t want to be labelled the difficult one, the “controlling spouse,” the one who wouldn’t compromise. So, I gave in, again and again, until I didn’t recognize myself. That was the first and most fundamental mistake.
When you relinquish your own voice in the name of peace, you lose the very compass that should steer your life. But reclaiming that planner in me, that visionary, was the first healing step. I sat down and mapped out a new five-year plan. My well-being. My financial future. My mental health. My sense of purpose. That simple act of planning created the momentum I needed to begin again. And I’ve stuck to it. That plan and the years of focus and investment are the reason I’m able to look back and speak about it today.
Reflect, not Rebound:
Still, planning wasn’t enough. I needed to reflect, not react. I needed to understand how I got here and why. I revisited every chapter of that failed relationship like a well-worn book, determined to learn from it. I wasn’t looking for evidence to accuse anyone, I wasn’t even looking to justify myself. I simply wanted to reclaim what was left of my self-respect, dignity, and inner peace. And reflection, not distraction, was the only way through.
That meant no rebounds. No jumping into new connections to numb the pain. No desperate searches for affirmation. People often leap into new relationships too soon, hoping love will heal them. It rarely does. Often, it complicates the wounds even more. For some, it masks reality. For others, it’s a way to avoid facing their own truths. But I knew I needed to pause. No matter who judged my pace, I had to go slow.
Fix Fix Fix
Once I truly began the process, I realized just how much there was to fix. That season of heartbreak became a mirror showing me parts of myself that had long needed attention. First, I confronted my finances. I took back control, made independent decisions, and started building again without relying on anyone else’s approval or emotional state. I reestablished financial autonomy, and that was empowering.
Then, I turned to my career. Like many do in long-term relationships, I had compromised on my professional dreams for the sake of “peace.” But now, with freedom, I returned to learning. I signed up for certifications, enrolled in a new Master’s program, and immersed myself in growth. That, too, became a healing balm. There’s something uniquely therapeutic about doing what once felt impossible.
Relationships needed mending, too. The marriage had cost me close friendships. I had vanished, emotionally and sometimes physically, from the people who loved me most. Thankfully, many of them waited. They understood, even when they didn’t have the full picture. Reconnecting took time, and rebuilding trust took even longer, but the effort was worth it.
Keep Good Company:
I also learned the critical importance of curating my circle. During emotional transitions, advice comes from everywhere. Some people want to help. Others unknowingly project their pain. Some want you to bounce back, some want revenge, and others never want you to try again. But healing is personal. You must protect it. I became clear about my direction, and I set firm boundaries. Anyone who couldn’t respect my journey, no matter how close, had to be left behind.
Preserve your Healing:
Words from that season still echo. Harsh, unkind, deliberately timed words that wounded deeply. I spent many nights replaying them, asking if they were true. But with time, those words lost their sting. I could see the pain behind them, the manipulation, the frustration and eventually, I could laugh. Not because they were funny, but because they no longer held power over me. I stopped allowing them space in my mind. I defended my healing fiercely.
Define your discovery:
This experience unearthed truths that now guide my life. A friend once said to me, “Everyone sees money differently.” That struck me. Where I saw money as a tool of stability and progress, someone else might see it as a mechanism for control. That insight changed everything. I also learned that those of us raised in emotionally stable, functional homes can be especially vulnerable. We often don’t recognize dysfunction until we’re drowning in it. But above all, I learned this: I am responsible for what I do next. No matter what happened, the future is mine to rebuild.
Set those Boundaries:
Eventually, I had to set final boundaries. For some, co-parenting requires communication. For me, I had no such obligations, thankfully! But outside of legal obligations, there’s rarely a good reason to maintain connections with those who have harmed you. Closure isn’t always possible, and that’s okay. I didn’t need to maintain any ties, and I’m grateful for that! I needed a clean break. I had goals. Places to see. A life to live. Anyone who disrupted that peace, no matter how close, was no longer welcome in my life. It wasn’t retaliation. It was preservation.
Again, this reflection is rooted in gratitude and grace of God that found me at my lowest and preserved me. I’m in awe of how far I’ve come and thankful for those who held my hands tight! Our society still punishes the divorced more than it confronts dysfunction, and that needs to change. Someone out there needs to know you can walk away and still build a beautiful life.
This journey is not for the faint of heart. But it is for the determined. If you do the work, if you choose yourself over shame, you’ll find strength you never knew you had. And on the other side of it all, there is sunlight.
Just don’t die trying to save something that was meant to end quickly!
By Adesuyi Ayorbamny
