It’s August now and here’s a snapshot of what’s happened:

April – initiated the divorce process

May, June, July – fell into a deep despairing place because of the divorce process

August – slowly picking myself back up

The emotional and physical funk I fell into was a sharp left turn I did not expect. The months leading up to April felt like a time of deep restorative work. I recovered parts of me that I thought had fled for good after years of abuse. I felt stronger physically, emotionally, and even spiritually. I could feel my feet stand firmer on the ground, like deep roots planting in.

And then I initiated the divorce. Once that process began, a torrent of migraines, exhaustion, and hopelessness set in. It wasn’t until a few weeks ago that my therapist helped me connect the dots to this sudden change. After months of being independent and discovering the health of newly formed boundaries where I could have a lot of space away from my old partner, this divorce suddenly put me back into proximity with him. My pursuing the divorce now meant that I needed cooperation/collaboration/interaction with my soon-to-be-ex (stbx). I was back in the wasp’s nest after a year of being out of it. And within days of that process beginning, my body HATED it. Cue the migraines and sleepless nights.

This entire process feels like resilience bootcamp. Though if this were a movie, I’m in the montage where the main character keeps falling face first in the mud, unable to climb the rope, and tripping over oneself. As a therapist, I often tell my clients that growth is not a linear line. Our growth comes in loops, plateaus, steep slopes, and the most gradual of curves. And while that’s great to say to someone, it’s terrible to have to live through. In my journal, I’ve been tracking my pull-up exercises to have a better look at my progress. A rather discouraging view is seeing the great gains I was making leading up to April, and then a 3 month blank. I stopped going to the gym because of the emotional and physical toil I was going through. And so when I finally came back in August, all I could see were the setbacks. I had given myself a year to get a pull up, and I feel so far away from that goal.

The critic in me says, “what were you thinking? Of course you can’t get a pull up. you wimped out for a few months. you should have kept showing up. This is embarrassing.”

These days, I’m trying not to give the mic to the critic so much. That critic tries to motivate me by tearing me down – and for where I am, that’s not productive nor helpful. I choose to give the mic to the older, wiser, self in me that says, “You showed up AGAIN. And you’re still trying. You’re doing the thing. THIS is resilience-building. You’re learning deeper lessons in boundaries, faith, and acceptance through this process. Just by showing up, you have not failed – you are learning and growing.”

I haven’t gotten the pull up yet. I’m not divorced yet. I’m not a master at boundaries yet. But I have not failed. I may be muddied from falls, but I continue on. I imagine a lesson learned in the mud holds deeper roots than an easy/accidental success. And I would much rather be dirty and whole than broken and pristine.