This week was the big D‑Day — the day the divorce became official. For anyone who’s been through it, you know what I mean: separation and divorce finalized on the same day. No buffer. No limbo. No going back.
All these years later, it’s strange to look back on a day that ended one version of my life and started another — not just for me, but for the creatures too. If I’m being honest, it was one of the best decisions I ever made. I think about what my life had become, how easy it is to lose yourself in a toxic situation, convincing yourself that this is just how life is supposed to be. Since then, I’ve worked hard to build something better — not just for me, but as a dad.
Sometimes that means the small things: going to the gym every day, taking a walk without feeling guilty for thinking about myself. And sometimes it means the big things: therapy, reflection, and doing the work to make sure this chapter is healthier than the last.
But divorce guilt is real. It doesn’t disappear just because you’re happier. It gets louder sometimes, especially as the kids get older and start asking questions about the life that used to be. I still catch myself wondering if I should’ve tried harder, or just sucked it up. And there’s always that quiet ache — the sense that I took something away from them that they’ll never remember but will always feel.
It’s not easy to answer questions like, “Why did you and Mom break up?” or “Will you and Mom get back together?” They’ll never get the full truth, and maybe that’s just how it has to be.
So here I am, looking back on D‑Day with a beer in hand, thinking about the life I’ve built since. Am I happy I did what I did? Yes. My life is better. I’m happier than I ever was during my marriage. I’m a better man — and believe it or not, a better dad. I truly believe that.