After Divorce, Still in Transition

After my divorce, I went through several phases.

The first phase was when I tried desperately to keep myself healthy, both physically and mentally. I worked out, went jogging, and even tried jiu-jitsu for a while. I cooked healthy meals for myself, explored new hobbies, made new friends, and of course, I even found a new boyfriend. But we were not a good fit at all, and the relationship ended.

I also devoted myself completely to work. I worked until almost midnight every day, and on weekends I went to a nearby library to do research for my projects. Looking back, that was my emergency mode. I couldn’t help but try to live every single day as fully as possible, just to convince myself that I was okay — that I was still worthy, still valuable, even after becoming single again in what felt like such a miserable way.

And then I burned out.

I quit almost everything. I stopped eating well, exercising, going out, sleeping properly, and throwing myself into work. I stayed at home, eating mostly convenience store food or ordering Uber Eats. I kept watching short videos on Instagram for no real reason — maybe just to soothe myself, to get through each second without having to feel the hopelessness underneath.

The good balance I used to have disappeared. My healthy body and mind disappeared. My confidence disappeared.

What was left, at least in my own eyes, was only a fat, ugly, incompetent, hesitant, stupid, insecure middle-aged woman.

And now, I think I’m in the third phase.

I have given up some things — or maybe I have let them go, more peacefully than before. Things like the need to always be cool and shiny. The pressure to find someone again quickly. The belief that I have to prove, through work or beauty or discipline, that I am still valuable.

Now I feel like I’m not that cool anymore, but I’m still okay.

I am not as mature as I wish I were. I cannot always take good care of myself. I lack discipline. I cry easily. I am emotional. Sometimes I can barely function.

And yet, sometimes I am happy.

Sometimes, I can still find beauty in the world. I can still feel joy. Sometimes, I catch myself beaming at my own life. I think I still create value through my work, and for the people around me.

Maybe.

I am slowly learning to be at ease with my imperfect self.

Maybe I don’t have to rebuild myself into a perfect, impressive version of me. Maybe I just need to come back to myself, little by little.

Not through punishment.
Not through panic.
Not through proving.

But through care.