The Difference Between Then and Now
Sometimes I think back to the woman I was at the end of 2024.
She was exhausted.
She was heartbroken.
She was angry.
She was trying to navigate the end of a marriage while learning how to co-parent, all while carrying the weight of protecting her child and figuring out where life was supposed to go next.
Looking back, I can admit something that wasn't easy to admit then.
I reacted from a place of pain.
There was one night that changed everything for me. My emotions got the best of me, and I acted out in ways I'm not proud of. I wasn't thinking clearly—I was thinking like someone whose world had just been turned upside down.
That doesn't mean every decision that followed was fair, and it doesn't mean I agree with how everything was handled. There are still parts of that chapter that I look back on with sadness and frustration.
But I've learned something important.
Two things can be true at the same time.
I can acknowledge that I made mistakes while also recognizing that I was deeply hurting.
Growth isn't pretending those moments never happened.
Growth is owning them.
If someone met me during that season of my life, they probably would have seen someone overwhelmed by grief, fear, and anger. They wouldn't have seen the woman I'm becoming today.
Because today, I respond differently.
Today, I pause before reacting.
Today, I protect my peace instead of trying to win every battle.
Today, I understand that I cannot control another person's choices. I can only control my own.
Co-parenting hasn't magically become easy.
Not every conversation is respectful.
Not every disagreement is resolved.
But something has changed.
I've changed.
I've stopped allowing every hostile message to steal my joy.
I've stopped believing I have to defend myself every single time.
I've learned that silence is sometimes stronger than an argument.
I've learned that boundaries are healthier than revenge.
Most importantly, I've learned that healing isn't about becoming perfect.
It's about becoming better than you were yesterday.
When I look back at the woman I was in late 2024, I don't judge her.
I have compassion for her.
She was doing the best she could while carrying more pain than she knew how to express.
That version of me deserved healing.
She deserved peace.
And that's exactly what I've spent the last year fighting for.
Not revenge.
Not validation.
Peace.
If there's one thing I've learned through divorce and co-parenting, it's this:
You don't have to stay the person your pain created.
You can become the person your healing reveals.
And when I compare who I was then to who I am now, I don't just see survival.
I see growth.
I see strength.
I see a woman who finally chose herself—not at the expense of others, but because she realized she couldn't pour into her son, her family, or her future until she learned how to care for herself first.
That has been the greatest transformation of all.
I don't see the woman who broke down. I see the woman who got back up.