I’m Haley. Book midwife (editor), author, and single mom of four. Consider upgrading to a paid subscription to support my family and gain access to exclusive content:
A sweet reader noted a tonal shift lately and encouraged me by saying that it sounds like I’m starting to prepare the soil after pulling all the weeds.
The thing is, it doesn’t feel that way at all and it’s frustrating. Because it’s been two years. Aren’t I healed yet? Why is it taking so long?
I do the journaling, the therapy, the long walks, the working out, and nights on the phone or early morning coffees with friends. I do the drinking enough water, the taking my supplements, the feeling my feelings, the eating nourishing food. (Although eating my feelings sounds like a lot more fun.) I think positively. I find the whimsy. I say my daily affirmations. I’m hopeful for the future. I’m the goshdarn Anne Shirley of divorcees.
Shouldn’t it not hurt anymore? Don’t I get to stop pulling the weeds and exhausting myself by digging deep into the earth? Do I ever get to just be healed and enjoy the garden I’ve been trying to grow?
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