When Forever Ends and Healing Begins

Tonight, I find myself asking a question I’ve been asked more times than I can count: Am I ready for the dating world?
Some days I believe I am. Other days, I’m not so sure.

People say it’s too soon. But is it really? I grieved my marriage while I was still in it. I mourned the loss of us long before it officially ended.

Before my husband ever told me he was unhappy, I prayed a dangerous prayer. One night, I asked God to expose anyone who was not meant for me. I never imagined that prayer would include the man I married—the man I supported without question, the man I believed was my forever. Our entire marriage wasn’t bad; we shared real joy and genuine memories. I still don’t fully understand what changed. All I ever asked for was his time.
I’ll save the rest of that story for another blog.

I’ll be honest—I haven’t always made the best choices in friendships or relationships. I see the good in people, sometimes to my own detriment. I love deeply, care wholeheartedly, and give others what I so desperately hope to receive in return.

My greatest fear in this dating world isn’t rejection—it’s starting over.

For years, I was made to feel like I wasn’t good enough. Not pretty enough. Like my very existence—my breathing—was an inconvenience. That kind of damage doesn’t disappear when the relationship ends. It settles into your bones. It makes you question your worth, your voice, your right to take up space.

I’m afraid of failing again. Afraid of opening up. Afraid of letting someone see the most fragile, unguarded parts of me—the parts that were once dismissed, minimized, or ignored.

So how do you start over after ten years with someone you thought would be your forever?
How do you trust again after trust cost you so much?
How do you heal trauma that rewired how you see yourself?

I don’t have the answers yet.
But I do know this: asking these questions doesn’t mean I’m weak. It means I’m aware. It means I’m healing. And maybe—just maybe—it means I’m learning to choose myself this time.

And perhaps readiness doesn’t mean being fearless…
maybe it simply means being brave enough to try.