About a week or two after leaving a 14-year relationship, I found myself standing in a place I never expected to be.
Starting over. At 48 years old.
Even though I was the one who left, my heart was broken. The relationship had become controlling and verbally abusive, and I knew I needed to walk away. But knowing you made the right decision doesn’t make it hurt any less.
I spent a lot of those days wondering what my future would look like.
Had I waited too long?
Was I too old to start over?
Would I ever feel like myself again?
One morning, my youngest two children and I decided at the last minute to drive to Pyramid Point in Northern Michigan. We didn’t have a plan. We just needed to get out for a bit.
Sometimes healing begins with something as simple as saying, “Let’s go.”
On the drive, my daughter discovered that Sheryl Crow was performing that evening at The Cherry Festival in Traverse City.
Just like that, our simple hiking trip became an adventure.
We spent the day hiking Pyramid Point, soaking in the beauty of Lake Michigan, sharing lunch together, wandering along the waterfront and eventually ending the evening listening to Sheryl Crow perform live.
Looking back, I don’t remember every detail of that day. I don’t remember the restaurant we ate at. I don’t remember every song that was played.
But I remember how I felt.
For the first time since leaving, I felt something other than sadness.
I felt alive.
Not healed.
Not whole.
But hopeful.
When I look at the photos from that day, I can still see the sadness in my eyes.
My kids captured several candid pictures of me staring out at the water, lost in thought.
For a long time those photos made me sad. Now they remind me how strong I was.
I see a woman grieving the end of a chapter she never thought would end.
A woman scared to start over.
A woman wondering if life had already passed her by.
But I also see something else.
I see a mother spending time with her children.
I see someone showing up for life when it would have been easier to stay home and hide.
I see the beginning of healing.
Those photos captured something I couldn’t see at the time.
I wasn’t falling apart. I was finding my way back to myself.
Nearly four year later, I realize that day wasn’t really about a hike or a concert.
It was about hope.
It was the first day I stopped focusing on everything I had lost and started noticing everything I still had.
The love of my children. My freedom. My future. A chance to begin again.
My youngest two kids probably had no idea how much that day meant to me.
They simply showed up. They spent time with their mom. They laughed with me when I needed it most.
And in doing so, they helped me through one of the hardest seasons of my life.
If you’re reading this while facing your own ending, wondering it it’s too late to start over, I want you to know something I couldn’t see back then:
It isn’t. It’s never too late.
Sometimes the chapter you’re most afraid to begin becomes the one that changes everything. And sometimes hope arrives when you least expect it – on a random road trip, a scenic trail, a summer evening by the water, and a day spent with the people who love you most.
Leaving a long-term relationship wasn’t just about ending one chapter – it was about learning how to rebuild my life. Hiking became one of the most important parts of that journey, helping me clear my mind, regain my confidence, and begin healing. If you’d like to read more about that experience, visit Why I Started Hiking to Heal.
One of the things that carried me through those difficult years was the love and support of my children. Now that they’re grown and raising families of their own, staying connected takes intention but it’s something I deeply value. If you’re navigating relationships with adult children too, you might enjoy How I Stay Close to My Adult Children.