Your New Life Won’t Start Until You Grieve the End of Your Marriage

When my first marriage ended, it was like a bomb had gone off inside me. I was shattered into a million pieces, Humpty Dumpty slurping on a latte, drifting down the grocery aisle, going through the motions of living a life. I was 35, the mother of a toddler, and so lost I could barely put on a pair of pants without sobbing.

I had no idea that I needed to intentionally grieve the loss of my marriage. If I'm real, I didn't even know what grief was. I was a disaster, sure, either dissociated or crying on the bathroom floor, but I was still trying to act like I was ok, like I wasn't in the middle of the most catastrophic change to life as I knew it. I mean, I was seemingly moving forward, trying to date someone new, maintaining a smile around my kiddo, but beneath the surface, the ache of everything I’d lost was thumping in my chest. The marriage was over, but so was the dream of growing old together, of raising our child under one roof, of keeping our family intact.

And because I didn’t let myself grieve, that grief ran the show.

Grieving Isn’t Pretty, but It’s Essential

For me, grieving looked like stumbling through my days in a haze of sadness and overwhelm. It looked like feeling my chest tighten every time I dropped my son off at my ex’s house, knowing he’d be spending the night somewhere else.

It looked like crying in the shower when the house was too quiet.
It looked like rage bubbling up in the middle of a perfectly normal conversation with my ex.
It looked like sitting in my car after school drop-off, staring at the steering wheel, wondering how I got here.

And it wasn’t just grief—it was shame. Guilt. Fear. Regret. The whole deranged cocktail of emotions I didn’t want to feel but couldn’t escape.

It took me a long time to learn that grief doesn’t follow a clean, predictable path. You don’t just cry it out one weekend and move on. Grieving is messy and raw and deeply uncomfortable. But it’s also the only way through.

How Skipping Grief Shows Up in Your Life

When I avoided grieving, I thought I was protecting myself. Instead, it showed up in ways I couldn’t control.

It showed up as impatience with my son. I hated how snappy and irritable I was with him, but I couldn’t seem to stop.
It showed up as defensiveness with my ex. Every conversation felt like a fight, even when it didn’t need to be.
It showed up as heaviness in my body—a tight chest, a constant sense of dread, exhaustion that wouldn’t go away no matter how much I slept.

When you don’t grieve, the pain doesn’t just vanish. It gets into your body, into your relationships, into every corner of your life.

Grieving Is the Foundation for What’s Next

It took me a good minute to get it (like, a 4 year minute): when you avoid grieving, the pain doesn’t just disappear. It sinks into your body, into your relationships, into every corner of your life.

I now know that grief isn’t something to fear. It’s a doorway. When you allow yourself to feel the heartache of the end of your marriage—the relationship, the dream, the life you thought you’d have—you make space for something new.

Grieving allowed me to rebuild trust with myself. It helped me let go of the past so I could show up for the present. It gave me the strength to co-parent from a place of steadiness and clarity, instead of reactivity and resentment.

Grieving isn’t just for you—it’s for your kids. It’s for the life you’re building now. It’s for the version of yourself you haven’t met yet. 

When You’re Ready to Start Grieving, Here’s Where to Begin:

• Create an Intentional Grieving Ceremony. Find some alone time. Gather photos and mementos from your time together. Play songs you both loved. Write a letter to the version of yourself who believed in this relationship. Allow yourself to feel the tenderness of what was. This is about honoring the life you shared and acknowledging all the pain that let to the end of that chapter. Cry, scream, or just sit in the sadness. Practice Pema Chodron' s 90-second guide to feeling emotions: if you courageously allow a hard feeling to come up and be alive in you, it will shift in 90 seconds or less. Try it. 
• Name What You’ve Lost. Write it all down: the marriage, the dream, the family you thought you’d have. Put words to it.
  
• Find Resources that Speak to You. Tara Brach’s Radical Acceptance and Pema Chodron’s When Things Fall Apart were my lifelines. Find what resonates for you.
• Ask for Help. You’re not supposed to do this alone. Lean on a therapist, a coach, or a trusted friend who can listen without giving you unsolicited advice.
• Be Patient With Yourself. There’s no timeline for grief. Let it unfold at its own pace.

Ready to Take the First Step Toward Healing?

Grief isn’t just about letting go—it’s about making space for the life you’re meant to build. If you're ready to stop feeling stuck and start moving forward with clarity and confidence, join me for my FREE webinar:

From Chaos to Calm for Divorced Moms: 3 Secrets to Reclaim Strength and Thrive—Cooperative Ex NOT Required.

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