Like childbirth, no two divorces are the same. Some are quick and clinical, others are long and drawn out, and then there are the ones that feel like an emotional car crash in slow motion. Whatever the circumstances, one thing is for sure-divorce is a journey, and the first month is often the hardest.

It's been just under a month since my husband told me he wanted a divorce. Three weeks since he told our children. I only count the days because everyone says time is the great healer. Each midnight is another tick on the clock, another step forward, whether I like it or not.

The Moment It All Changed

When he told me he wanted to leave, he framed it as wanting to find chemistry. I still don't know what that means. Chemistry? Like a science experiment? A dating app algorithm? A spark that apparently fizzled out without me even realising?

After the initial shock, I turned to my support network-my wonderful, compassionate, and endlessly patient friends. They became my village, offering advice, love, and the occasional much-needed reality check. Their words helped me navigate these first few weeks, and now I'm sharing them here in case you've just found yourself at the start of this awful, bewildering road.

1. Draw a Line Between Anger and Bitterness

Anger is natural. Bitterness is toxic. I've been furious, but I've realised that staying angry is exhausting. I only have so much energy each day, and I refuse to waste it on someone who doesn't even feel it.

The other night, I had a dream. I was inside, he was outside. There were windows and curtains between us. I was screaming, shouting words I didn't even know existed, but he couldn't hear me. He just stood there, looking at the view. I woke up exhausted but determined-my energy is for me and my children, not for someone who has already moved on.

I refuse to waste my energy on someone who has already moved on. My focus is on me and my children.

2. Separate the Adequate Father from the Disappointing Husband

He may have failed me as a husband, but that doesn't mean he has to fail as a father. I created a WhatsApp group called

Kiddies Schedules & Etc.

It's a neutral space where we communicate only about the children. No emotions, no arguments, just logistics.

It's helped me compartmentalise. I can send pictures of school dress-up days without it feeling like a desperate plea-

Look at our kids, why are you doing this?

Instead, it's just co-parenting. One day, I'll add the kids to the group too. For now, it's a small win.
 

3. Children Can Only Heal Once They Have Grieved

Hope is a tricky thing. It keeps you afloat, but it can also keep you stuck. My children need to grieve, and grief can't begin while there's still hope that things might go back to the way they were.

So, I've made it clear-this is happening. I don't sugarcoat it, but I do give them certainty where I can. I don't know why Dad left me, but I do know A, B, and C. I give them small things they can hold onto, things that are in their control. It's heartbreaking, but necessary.

Children can only heal once they have grieved. And grief can't begin while there's still hope.

4. Stop Trying to Understand The Why

In the early days, my brain was a broken record-why, why, what if, WTF? I drove myself mad trying to understand his reasons. But here's the thing: I will never truly know. I can't climb inside his head, and even if I could, would it change anything?

So, I let it go. The only way is forward. It's not fair, it's not what I wanted, but here we are. My options are to curl up in a ball and disappear into my own belly button, or to take one step forward at a time. I choose the latter.

5. Have Some Imagination

This one wasn't from my village, but it's been my lifeline. I've started imagining my new life. A life where I do the things