The Day the Papers Arrived
And Why It Felt Like Freedom, Not Finality
Today, I received my divorce papers in the mail.
I’d waited so long for them.
The waiting wasn’t just administrative.
It was emotional. Spiritual. Symbolic.
And when they finally came?
I felt it.
Not dread. Not shame. Not grief.
But relief.
A strange, electric lightness.
Like the final lock had clicked open on a cage I never knew I was still inside.
“I didn’t just receive papers today.
I received permission to step into my next chapter, fully.”
I had a kick in my step.
A quiet celebration humming through my body.
I glided through my Pilates class like my soul had been kissed awake.
Every movement felt intentional — strong, surrendered, alive.
The sauna melted more than sweat.
It melted stories. Memories. Layers of old identities I no longer needed.
Red light therapy? Blissful. Timeless. A cocoon of warmth that whispered:
You made it. And you’re allowed to feel joy.
On the way home, I stopped for salmon. My favourite.
And a bottle of bubbles. Not to share. Not for show.
Just for me.
I lit candles.
Poured a glass.
Ate slowly.
And I celebrated.
Not because divorce is easy.
Not because there weren’t moments that shattered me.
But because I was still here.
Still soft. Still fierce.
Still standing — not in spite of what I walked through, but because of it.
“This wasn’t the end. It was the reward.
For every tear. Every therapy session. Every hard conversation.
For every night I chose to stay with myself rather than run.”
When people imagine divorce, they don’t often imagine joy.
But joy isn’t the absence of pain.
It’s what emerges when we alchemise it.
And that’s what this moment was:
Alchemy.
The woman I used to be wouldn’t recognise me now —
Not because I’ve changed,
but because I finally stopped pretending.
Stopped pretending I was okay when I wasn’t.
Stopped pretending I didn’t want more.
Stopped pretending I didn’t deserve joy, softness, freedom, and pleasure.
A Love Letter to Every Woman Rebuilding:
If your freedom is taking longer than you hoped…
If your healing feels quiet and slow and unseen…
If you’re still somewhere in between the ending and the becoming…
Please hear this:
Your moment will come.
And when it does, you are allowed to smile.
You are allowed to exhale.
You are allowed to celebrate without guilt.
Because no one else can fully understand the mountain you’ve climbed.
But I can tell you this:
“The view at the top is peaceful.
And the woman you’ll meet there?
She’s not just free. She’s sovereign.”
So yes — I danced around my kitchen.
I toasted myself.
I savoured every bite, every breath, every moment.
Because I didn’t just survive a divorce.
I became a woman who chooses herself.
And today, I honoured her the way she deserves.
Want the exact tools that helped me rebuild from the inside out?
💌 Message me the word FREEDOM and I’ll send you my Reset & Rebuild Starter Toolkit — filled with the journaling prompts, body-based practices, and grounding rituals that helped me rise.
Because this is more than paperwork.
This is your permission slip to become.