Why did I run 385 miles away? You’d think after a year, I’d have a solid, rehearsed answer for that infamous first date question. But truth be told, it’s the one thing that tarnishes my otherwise near-perfect record. Picture this: here I am, a beautiful, witty, vivacious woman standing before you, only to reveal that I’m divorced with three kids, and guess what? My ex-husband has primary custody, and they live on the other side of the state. Uh huh, I know, it sounds all sorts of messed up, doesn’t it? There’s definitely more to this story that’s not immediately apparent.  Life’s complicated like that.

So, how did I end up here? It’s a question that’s bound to come up, and sure enough, two weeks into dating this incredible guy, he wants answers. After a failed attempt at explaining myself, it hit me—I needed to sit down and really figure it out…for myself!

I mean, seriously, what was I thinking? I had left what seemed like the perfect marriage. Who knew that, later on when the dust settled and the divorce drama died down, people would come out of nowhere saying things like, “I always thought you guys would split up sooner!” But at the time, I thought we had presented what appeared to be a marriage was straight out of a fairytale. We had a successful business together, hardly ever fought, three beautiful and well-behaved boys, a huge house, fancy cars—you name it. I gave all appearances of living the “happily ever after” dream. And here I was, single-handedly blowing it all up in one shot. I wanted to disappear into thin air and never be seen again. I felt like the biggest failure on the planet. Here I had everything, and yet I wasn’t happy?

But you know what else? I was completely terrified that I wouldn’t stick to my decision. See, my marriage was…comfortable. And man, let me tell you, feeling comfortable is like the most tempting thing ever. It’s safe, you know? A part of me was so damn scared that if I ‘d crumble and go crawling back with my tail between my legs, begging for forgiveness and asking him to take me back. But deep down inside, I knew that stepping out on my own was what I needed no matter how tough or downright scary. It was like facing one of my biggest fears—being alone.

So, what got me to this point? Well, let me give you a little sneak peek into my life. I held on tight to the security of that relationship when I was just twenty years old, for a lot of reasons. One of them was the fact that, if I’m being honest, I had some issues. You know, when the curtain of perfection comes crashing down, there I was—a flawed, breathing, and vulnerable young woman. We all have our weaknesses, insecurities, and those hidden dark corners inside us. For me, it was the suicide of my father when I was just fourteen and a mother with bipolar disorder who was not present in my life. Those things left me feeling incredibly fragile and needy. I was desperate for something stable in my life, you know? I wanted a solid ground to stand on, something that wouldn’t crumble beneath me, something to build my sense of self on. And deep down, what I really wanted was a family of my own—my own little haven filled with love and warmth.

But here’s the hard truth: no one person can rebuild that broken foundation for you. Trust me, I’ve learned it the hard way. Looking to someone else to fix all your shattered pieces and make your world whole—it’s a recipe for relationship disaster. Because when it all boils down, no single person can fill those empty spaces inside you. And when you try to put that burden on them, it puts so much strain on the support system that relationships are built upon. You must find that inner strength within yourself.

You know, finding your own voice and courageously walking your unique path in life is the key to truly experiencing character and inner peace. No one can gift you that; it’s something you earn through hard work and resilience.

I still remember that moment when I walked down the aisle, pledging to spend my life with that young man. Deep down, something felt off. It was like I was stealing something from him, something that I lacked in my own life. I wasn’t entering the marriage as a confident and complete person, ready to journey through life hand in hand with an equal partner. Instead, I was lost and stumbling into it blindly, clinging to him desperately, like a drowning girl grasping onto a buoy. It was incredibly unfair, and we were bound for disaster right from the start.

You know, one of my biggest weaknesses is my lack of fight. I knew that divorce meant putting on the gloves and facing the battle of “who gets what.” I’m a people pleaser to a fault, and I’m not saying that to sound self-righteous. It’s something I truly dislike about myself at times. I would do anything to maintain peace and ensure that people like me. It’s tough to confront the uncomfortable truths about ourselves. Even as I broke the heart of the man I had been married to for seventeen years, I desperately didn’t want him to hate me. Guilt, self-loathing, and self-punishment pushed me forward, saying, “Keep the money, keep the business, I won’t fight over the kids”… just please don’t hate me.

For fourteen long years, I wasted my life working as a CFO for a business I had absolutely no passion for. Most of the time, I stood in the shadows as the “woman behind the man.” When I made the decision to leave my marriage, I found myself in a vulnerable position – no job, no money of my own, no college degree, and no clear plan for the future. One thing was certain: the thought of repeating the cycle of dissatisfaction in my career felt like complete self-destruction. I needed to take charge and make a change in the level of satisfaction I derived from my work. Suddenly, I had the chance to shape my career destiny. Why shouldn’t I pursue my lifelong dream of writing and working in the arts? This was an opportunity to step into the unknown, to test my skills and resilience, and see if I could stand on my own feet and make a living as an artist and storyteller.

Honestly, there isn’t much to be proud of in this entire journey. But you know what? It’s about embracing the challenges, learning from our mistakes, and finding the strength to create a life that truly fulfills us.

But here’s the catch: I prioritized my boys’ well-being over my own desperate longing to keep them by my side. See, I couldn’t stick around in Sacramento. No family to lean on, no job, no cash. It would’ve been chaos for them. So, after much soul-searching, I made the tough call. Underneath my doubts and insecurities, I convinced myself that they’d be better off in the comfort of their father’s house, guarded by his family fortune. With grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends to nurture them and a lifestyle I couldn’t offer on my own.

What led me to this decision? Well, it was a mash-up of embarrassment, the fear of standing on my own, the irresistible urge to carve my own path, and my profound love for the ocean. All these factors pulled me 385 miles away from everyone I knew, landing me in a bustling city where I was a complete stranger. No safety nets to catch my fall, standing tall on wobbly legs, ready to conquer the latter half of my life. Crazy, selfish, maybe even ridiculously foolish. But you know what? For the very first time, I felt like I was exactly where I needed to be. This was my chance to truly find myself, grow emotionally, and become the reliable and mature parent my kids deserved.

I’m working everyday to heal myself, forgive myself, and love my three beautiful sons with all my heart so they can heal as well.

Well, there you have it. All my vulnerabilities, frailties, and personal desires laid out in front of you. It’s quite the dating profile, huh?