When you start writing, one of the most important things to ask yourself is “who am I writing this for, and why do I want to write?”
Over the past two and a half years my family and I have been to hell and back. Divorce is hard. Surviving divorce within the church is a Herculean effort that will almost kill you.
And here’s the thing, I have had so many women with backgounds in the church contact me. They are wounded and bleeding and terrified out of their ever-loving minds that if they ask their husband to leave, if they ask for a divorce, they will be dropped like a hot potato. They will be shunned. And condemned. And gossiped about. They will lose their friends, their support systems, their roles within the church. They might lose their family. And they might lose the God they thought they knew.
I’ve had women contact me who have asked their husband to leave, and they’ve come to realize that all their fears and more have come true.
This blog is about my journey through the past three years. I will write about my divorce, my children, my church, my new husband and what it’s been like for me to become a step mom to teenage boys. Most importantly this blog is about losing my faith in the God I thought I knew, and slowly learning that he’s still the God I thought I knew, but he’s so much bigger than I could have imagined.
It’s worth it. All the pain, all the suffering, all the days you think you’re not going to make it. It’s all worth it in the end.
I’m writing this for all the women out there who think they’re trapped in a marriage that’s killing them, but they’re too afraid of the fallout to leave. I’m writing this for the women who have taken that courageous step towards change, and they’re feeling alone and afraid and wondering if life will ever look or feel normal again.
And I’m writing this for me. For my own mental health and my own healing.
Feel free to leave me a message in the comments. It’s good for women to know that they are not alone.
Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton