And Somehow… I’m Smiling Again

There’s a quiet shift happening inside of me, one I can’t quite put into words—but I feel it. And for the first time in what feels like forever, I’m smiling. Not to cover up the pain or pretend I’m okay. It’s a real smile. An honest one. A reflection of a heart that’s been broken… but is starting to believe in wholeness again.

I feel incredibly blessed. Not because everything in my life is in place—far from it—but because God gave me the most loving and supportive children I could ever ask for. They are my reason. My purpose. My breath. They don’t even realize how many times they’ve kept me going without saying a word. The strength they pull out of me when I feel like I have nothing left is what saves me daily. I look at them, and I see love in its purest form. I created them. We shared a heartbeat. And I can’t imagine my life without them in it.

There was a time, though, when I felt that way about my husband. A time when I honestly didn’t believe I could live, breathe, or even function without him. My world revolved around our relationship, around the love I poured into it, and around the hope that things would get better. When it all started to fall apart, I felt like I was falling with it.

But something feels different now.

For the first time in six months, I can truly picture a life without him—and I’m not afraid of that image anymore. I’m not broken at the thought of him moving out in July. In fact, I’m starting to look forward to it now. Not because I don’t love him, and not because I stopped wanting our marriage to work, but because I’ve come to realize something I wasn’t fully ready to accept before: I deserve more than being tolerated. I deserve more than confusion or indifference. I deserve to be chosen, seen, and valued by someone who genuinely wants to share life with me.

And if that’s not him, then that’s okay.

I’m not fully healed, and I’m not pretending to be. But I’m finally ready to do life on my own, and that’s something I didn’t think I’d be able to say out loud. I’ve spent so long fighting to be loved by someone else, but now… I’m choosing to fight for myself. Because I trust that I won’t leave me. I won’t give up on me. I know what I bring into a relationship, and I know my heart. I know my capacity to love, to nurture, to build something beautiful. And if someone can walk away from that… maybe they were never meant to stay.

Lately, I’ve been talking to God a lot. And I’ve questioned Him more times than I can count. Why so many storms at once? Why the emotional pain and financial pressure? Why now? His answer has been the same every time: “I got you.” And I have to believe that. I have no choice but to believe it—because even though everything feels shaky, I know He heard the one prayer that mattered most to me.

I asked God not to let me die from a broken heart.
And He didn’t.
I’m still here.

Still healing. Still standing. Still waking up each day, trying to find myself again. And now, I can see my husband without falling apart. I can remember the good moments without drowning in them. I can imagine joy that doesn’t include his name. And I can dream of peace that isn’t tied to someone else staying.

God is shifting my focus. He’s showing me that my identity was never meant to be solely defined by being a wife or even a mother. My identity is rooted in me—in being whole on my own, in being intentional, and in choosing myself even when it’s hard. And that realization? That quiet becoming? It’s saving me.

My story isn’t over. It’s just finally becoming mine.

“I thought I needed him to breathe. But I’ve never felt more alive than I do choosing myself.”

With love + truth,
💔 Aria Monroe 💗
Healing in real time. Choosing herself on purpose.