There was a point when life felt like a never-ending storm. I’d just finalized my divorce, and while I had told myself I’d feel relief, what came instead was overwhelming exhaustion. My energy, optimism—everything felt drained. I found myself alone, not just physically, but emotionally. My once-clear goals were now a haze, and I couldn’t seem to find the ground beneath my feet.
I remember sitting in the car, parked outside my kids’ school, staring blankly at the steering wheel. I had time before I needed to pick them up, but instead of savoring the rare quiet, I felt panic creeping in. What am I doing? What do I even want anymore? Those questions looped in my mind like a broken record.
The divorce had left me with a sense of loss far greater than I’d expected. It wasn’t just the marriage ending—it was the life I thought I’d have, the identity I had wrapped around being a wife, a partner, and the expectations I had built for myself.
That day, sitting there, something snapped. Not in a dramatic, life-altering way, but more like a whisper. “You can’t keep spinning like this.” It was a realization that no one was coming to save me—not my friends, not my family. I had to do it myself.
So I did something so simple it almost sounds silly: I wrote down what I could control.
I started with little things. I made a list, not of the big dreams, but of the small wins I could have. I could make it through the day. I could pick up my kids with a smile, even if it felt forced at first. I could go to bed early and get enough rest. I could reach out to that friend I’d been avoiding and say, “I need a chat.”
Slowly, those small, seemingly mundane things started to build momentum. I started to feel the fog lift. I wasn’t making sweeping changes, but I was regaining a sense of control over my life. There was no magic trick to it. It wasn’t about becoming a different person overnight. It was about doing what I could with where I was.
That list became a lifeline. Every day, I would add a few more things, some still small, others a bit more ambitious: start reading again, go for a walk, get my finances in order. I wasn’t chasing a perfect life. I was just reclaiming my power, one step at a time.
Looking back, I see that it wasn’t the list itself that changed me—it was the act of acknowledging that even in the midst of chaos, I had choices. And with each tiny decision, I was rebuilding. Little by little, I felt like myself again, but stronger, wiser, and more attuned to what I wanted out of life.
Now, whenever things feel overwhelming, I remember that day in the car. I remember that I have the ability to change things, even if it’s just one small step forward. That’s all it takes to start turning things around.