“I might be living on tequila and hate, but I’m living!”
— Dan Cummings, comedian
After two years of marriage counseling before our divorce, I can honestly say I learned more about myself—and my former wife—during those sessions than in the twelve and a half years we lived together. We had changed. No kids, then kids. Job changes. Life. The person you are at the start of a marriage is rarely the same person you become years later.
Life gets so full, so fast, that we often lose sight of why we came together in the first place.
One of the most profound things our marriage counselor told us early on was this: counseling would reveal whether we still wanted to stay married—or if we were heading toward divorce. And they were right. The key question became: Do I want this marriage to work?
Sometimes it’s fear—fear of being alone, of being divorced—that keeps us holding on. But the truth is, it takes two people, both fully committed, to make a marriage thrive. If one person is still trying while the other, despite all efforts, just can’t stay… then, as painful as it is, divorce might be the only option left.
Journal Entry from Marriage Counseling I wrote
God, we work so hard as kids—
To impress our fathers.
To make our mothers proud.
We compete.
We push.
We carry the shame of not being the best—
At school, in sports, or in the careers we thought would define us.
And for what?
We end up stressed, exhausted…
Dreaming of a relationship that might save us.
Someone to ease the ache.
Someone to love us through it all—
‘Til death do us part.
But what’s the flip side?
Success, maybe. Recognition, sure.
Yet the demons stay quiet…
Until the thrill fades.
Then what?
We’re left unprepared for life’s curveballs.
So we numb out:
Getting high.
Getting drunk.
Getting reckless.
Chasing something—anything—outside ourselves
To silence the pain.
To feel alive again.
We run after security,
Not realizing:
It’s an illusion.
We do all the “right” things—
But for the wrong reasons.
And still…
No feeling is final.
Thank God for that.
Just keep going!
“What hooks you emotionally are your signposts to freedom.”
—B. Santistevan
This journey takes courage—but it’s already in you. You were built for this. Right now, you’re exactly where you need to be to grow into a version of yourself that’s more connected, more authentic, and more in tune with the love that’s always been part of your true nature.
You’ve got to do the work. Process the pain. Face the emotions rising now. Do it for your kids if you have them. Do it for the planet. But most of all—do it for yourself.
Observe your thoughts as they come. Don’t rush to fix them. Just sit in the space. Feel what you feel. It’s not easy—but you’re not alone. Emotions pass. Let them.
Watch the ones that keep showing up. Notice the patterns. Don’t attach to them. Don’t ride the roller coaster again. Let them come. Let them go.
That’s how the weight lifts. That’s how you clear your path. This is how you walk through pain—without losing yourself, or anyone else.
At first, yes, emotions will catch you. When they do, breathe deep. Ask yourself: Where in my body do I feel this most?
Practice this when you’re alone, in the quiet ache. That way, when you’re triggered at work or with others, you’ll be able to pause. And shift.
With any major life change, there are moments when we’re alone with only memories of what was—or regrets about what could’ve been. These thoughts can make us feel sad, even hopeless. But we keep moving through life. Because we have to.
Still—know this: time alone is sacred. It strips you down to your core. It’s where you begin to see through the layers covering your true self.
It’s uncomfortable. It sucks. You don’t want to face it. So maybe you don’t—you jump into the next relationship. But still, you end up lying beside someone, feeling completely alone.
People go to extremes to escape loneliness. They look for someone—anyone—to rescue them from themselves. But here’s the truth:
You can’t run from yourself.
Even if you find someone who seems perfect, you might still wake up at 3 a.m. asking: Is this it?
Sooner or later, you’ll realize that love found outside yourself won’t fill the void inside. Not for long. True peace begins when you’re at home in your own skin.
We juggle so much—car payments, mortgages, kids, in-laws—while trying to be the “perfect” partner. But perfection is a myth.
It’s ironic: schools teach everything except how to be in a relationship—especially the one with yourself. That’s the real work. The lifelong work. And it begins within.
“The more tranquil a man becomes, the greater is his success, his influence, his power for good. Calmness of mind is one of the beautiful jewels of wisdom.”
— James Allen, As a Man Thinketh
There is no calm in chasing perfection. Because perfection doesn’t exist.
“Perfectionism is a refusal to let yourself move ahead. It is a loop—an obsessive, debilitating closed system that causes you to get stuck in the details… and lose sight of the whole.”
— Julia Cameron, The Artist’s Way (pg. 119)
How often we lose sight of the whole. We get tangled in the daily grind, acting like every moment is life or death. It’s not.
Worrying about what you can’t control? Resisting change? That’s a guaranteed path to suffering.
If you want to stop suffering, allow this process to transform you. You have a choice: let life happen passively—or actively choose to grow.
Either way, you’ll be changed.
But I believe in conscious change. Real change. Choose it. Set goals. Take steps. Learn to love yourself—and others—in a new way. I wrote this to help you do this.
Because the person you were before the divorce? They’ll see the world very differently after.
When you feel untethered, angry, or afraid—that’s your moment of power. You can either react blindly or pause, breathe, and witness the emotion.
That pause is everything. That’s what I call the Shift Frequency—your ability to create change in the middle of chaos.
Trust that your pain is a teacher. It leads to awareness, to compassion, to strength.
Everyone feels fear. But when you tune into trust instead—you become free.
Even for just a breath. That one breath can save you. And it can help the people you love, too.
We spend so much of our lives chasing security, trying to control outcomes—only to discover it’s all smoke and mirrors. True power lives in the present. In surrender. In letting go.
When you stop needing guarantees, joy can rise up from the moment itself.
So: create space between your thoughts and your emotions. Go there. Feel what’s in your body. That’s one path forward.
