The Day I Chose Me

There’s a moment when you realise that staying the same hurts more than the unknown—and that was the day everything in my life changed. After 11 years together, 9 of them married, I chose to leave. Not because it was easy, but because staying in a relationship where I wasn’t in love felt like a betrayal of everything I wanted for myself and my daughter.

For generations like so many, the women in my family stayed in marriages that didn’t bring them joy—out of duty, out of fear, out of a belief that their happiness wasn’t as important as keeping the peace, but I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t pass down a legacy of settling for less than we deserve, of sacrificing our own light, of shrinking ourselves to fit into someone else’s expectations.

I chose to break that cycle. I chose me. I chose my daughter.

The Day My Life Blew Up

Some days crack you open so wide, that you wonder if you’ll ever piece yourself back together. For me, that day arrived in an unstoppable wave of realising that I could no longer keep living a lie - an unravelling that left me standing on shaky ground with my 5-month-old baby in my arms. The lifeline I had always counted on—my relationship with my mum—had also fractured in ways I couldn’t see a way back from. My world imploded, leaving me with nothing but silence, emptiness, and a single, terrifying question:

Who am I now?

The Crash and the Chaos

For as long as I could remember, I had lived for others. I was the loyal wife, the dutiful daughter, the woman who shaped herself around the needs and expectations of everyone else. When my daughter was born, I embraced motherhood with every fibre of my being—pouring myself into her care, her laughter, her safety. And yet, somewhere in the midst of it all, I lost myself. I had ignored my own needs for so long that by the time the cracks turned to chaos, I barely recognised the woman staring back at me.

My marriage wasn’t working. The truth is, it had never really worked. I had settled into a relationship with a kind man, but not the right man—not for me, not for the life I envisioned. But deep down, I knew something they never got the chance to act on—I wanted more. I deserved more. And when I looked at my daughter, I knew I couldn’t pass that pattern down to her.

The decision to leave wasn’t easy, but it was necessary. I chose myself for the first time in a long time. More importantly, I chose my daughter. I refused to raise her in an environment where love wasn’t alive, where her mother wasn’t truly happy, and where she might learn to silence her own desires for the sake of others. Leaving wasn’t just the end of a marriage, It was a revolutionary act, a break from the cycle but even revolutions come with a cost.

Suddenly, I was a single mum to a baby who depended on me for everything. Every smile, every tear, every late-night feed—it was all on me. The weight of that responsibility was crushing, but beneath the exhaustion there was something unexpected—freedom. For the first time in what felt like forever, I could breathe.

And yet, the freedom came with its own price. My relationship with my mum fractured under the weight of everything happening, splintering into silence. It felt like we were strangers, two women standing on opposite sides of a chasm, unable—or unwilling—to meet in the middle. When I became a mother, I longed for my own mum more than I could explain, but she wasn’t there. At a time when I needed her most, our bond seemed irreparably broken.

Without my husband, without my mum, I was alone in a way I had never experienced before. The stillness was painful. It forced me to confront questions I had always avoided. Would I be enough for my daughter? Could I make it on my own? Did I even know who I was anymore?

The stillness shook me to my core, but it also gave me space—the space I needed to rediscover myself. It was in that silence, in those quiet moments of fear, that I began to unravel the old stories that had held me back. Piece by piece, I started to remember who I was before the roles, before the expectations, before the compromises. I wasn’t just surviving—I was slowly learning how to truly live.

What began as the most difficult and chaotic chapter of my life became the foundation of my transformation. The crash, the chaos, the stillness—it all brought me back to myself. And for that, I’m endlessly grateful.The Unpacking and Relearning

I began the painful but necessary task of unpacking my life. All the stories I had told myself about who I was supposed to be, all the reasons why I had stayed quiet or settled or afraid to ask for what I needed. I uncovered things I didn’t even know were buried beneath the surface—old wounds, patterns of people-pleasing, and deep-rooted beliefs about my worth that no longer served me.

They weren’t easy truths to face. But they were mine, and acknowledging them was the first step to reclaiming my power.

Hypnotherapy became one of the most pivotal tools in my healing. It’s incredible what we store in our subconscious—things we think we’ve forgotten but that still guide how we show up in the world and in relationships. I went back to those stories through hypnotherapy. Stories of not being good enough. Stories of avoiding conflict, even at my own expense. And slowly, I started rewriting those scripts into ones that felt aligned with the woman I wanted to become.

Embodiment and somatic practices became the second most important tool in my healing. I had spent so much of my life disconnected from my body, treating it as if it were just a vessel to carry me through the day. But when I began to listen to what my body was holding—the tension, the unease, the memories—I realised it was guiding me toward truths I had ignored. Through gentle movements, breathwork, and practices that brought me fully into the present, I started to release the emotions and traumas I had carried for so long. Tears would come, sometimes out of nowhere, as years of suppressed pain softened and found a way out.

These practices didn’t just help me process my past—they also gifted me a sense of safety that I hadn’t felt in years. I began to trust my body again, to see it not as a site of pain but as a partner in my healing and empowerment.

Bit by bit, I rediscovered myself. And the discipline I built from this inward reflection didn’t just heal me—it made space for healing with the people in my life that mattered most.

Reconnecting with My Mom

Healing my relationship with my mom was one of the hardest things I’ve done. But reconnecting with myself gave me the clarity and strength I needed to approach her from a new perspective. I realised that we both deserved a relationship rooted in respect and love—without the guilt, resentment, or misplaced expectations that had plagued us for years.

We didn’t pick up where we left off. We started fresh, with small, intentional conversations. I was honest with her in ways I never had been before, and I learned to listen without trying to fix. Slowly, through honest communication and boundaries, we rebuilt something even stronger than what had existed before.

Meeting the Love of My Life

Almost two years after leaving my marriage, I finally felt ready to try something I had been avoiding—online dating. It wasn’t without resistance; part of me dreaded the idea. But I also knew that stepping into my new identity meant facing my fears and pushing myself out of my comfort zone. My only goal was to relearn the art of dating, as I had met my ex-husband when I was 23, long before online dating was even a thing. To start with intention, I sat down and wrote a list of everything I truly desired in a partner and in a relationship. Then, with equal parts hope and hesitation, I signed up.

Fast forward one week, three dates later, and there he was—the man who met me as an equal from the very start. He saw all of me, loved every part of who I was, and, perhaps most importantly, showed up for my daughter with the kind of love and care I had always hoped for in a partner. He didn’t just step into my life, he embraced everything about it, including her.

Building our blended family has been no small task—it’s come with its share of challenges, adjustments, and lessons. But through it all, it’s been the most beautiful and rewarding experience. Together, we’ve created a home filled with laughter, respect, and a love deeper than any of us could have imagined.

The Transformation

If you had told me on that day—the day my life blew up—that I would one day feel at peace, I wouldn’t have believed you. If you told me I’d create a life so full of love, respect, and authenticity, I might’ve laughed through my tears. But here I am.

Looking back, I see the pieces of myself I thought I’d lost weren’t really gone. They were waiting for me to come back. Waiting for me to uncover the strength I’d had all along.

And now? I know that when you find your truth—when you honour your boundaries, your wounds, and your hopes—you create the foundation for the life you deserve.

If you’re navigating your own implosion, if it feels like everything has crumbled, know this—it’s in those cracks that you’ll discover who you were always meant to be.

With love and gratitude

Brooke