I remember the day that my ex-husband and I decided we were going to separate.
We were sitting at the kitchen table. The same table where we had celebrated birthdays. Paid bills. Helped with homework. Planned holidays.
But this time, we were planning the end of our marriage.
A few hours later, we sat the kids down and told them what was happening. I can still see their faces. Confused. Quiet. Trying to be brave because we were trying to be brave.
I had been a stay-at-home mom for 15 years.
Fifteen years of field trips, laundry, and packing lunches. Fifteen years of building my identity around being “Mom” and “wife.” And in one conversation, I wasn’t a wife and mom anymore.
I was about to become a single mom.
And the clock started ticking the moment we made that decision.
What most people don’t talk about is this: the hardest part of divorce often starts long before the papers are signed.
The moment you know it’s over, your brain goes into survival mode.
What about the kids?
Where are we going to live?
How am I going to afford this?
What about health insurance?
What about everything?
My ex-husband was in the military, which meant we were living on base housing. When we separated, that wasn’t an option anymore. I had to find a place for myself and the kids to live.
Fast.
I remember scrolling rental listings late at night after everyone was asleep. Doing math in my head that didn’t add up. Wondering how I was supposed to qualify for anything when I didn’t have an income yet.
And here was the reality I was facing – In the state we lived in, he wasn’t required to pay child support until the divorce was final.
Our divorce took 18 months.
Eighteen months of figuring it out on my own.
When you’ve been home for 15 years, you don’t just walk back into the workforce like nothing changed. You rebuild your confidence. You update a résumé that hasn’t been touched in years. You try to translate years of raising kids into something employers understand.
And you do it while your heart is breaking.
While your emotions are all over the place.
While your kids are asking hard questions.
You’re grieving the relationship.
You’re trying to stay strong for your kids.
You’re trying to make smart financial decisions while your whole world is in chaos.
Financial stress during divorce isn’t just about numbers. It’s about fear. It’s about the pressure of knowing people are depending on you.
It’s standing in the grocery store wondering if you should put something back.
It’s lying awake at night calculating rent plus utilities plus gas plus groceries over and over like somehow the total will change.
It’s trying to build a brand-new life while you’re still emotionally processing the old one ending.
No one hands you a manual for that.
That season forced me to learn how money actually worked in my life. Not the abstract version. The real version. The day-to-day decisions. The planning. The choices that determine whether you stay stuck or move forward.
I didn’t just learn how to survive financially. I learned how to take control of my financial life.
Because I know what it feels like to sit at the kitchen table staring at numbers that don’t make sense yet. I know what it feels like to carry the weight of trying to protect your kids while rebuilding your own life at the same time.
And I also know that with the right plan and support, things can become far more stable than they feel right now.
That experience is a big part of why I do the work I do today as a financial coach.
And here’s what I learned in that season, both as a woman walking through it and now as a financial coach helping others do the same:
- Clarity calms chaos.
Even when the numbers are scary, knowing them is better than guessing. I wrote everything down. Every bill. Every expense. Every possible source of income. It didn’t fix it overnight, but it gave me something solid to stand on. - Pride is expensive.
I had to ask for help. I had to accept temporary work. I had to make decisions that weren’t glamorous but were necessary. Survival seasons are not the time for ego. - Temporary doesn’t mean forever.
That tiny rental? Temporary.
That first job that wasn’t my dream? Temporary.
That overwhelming fear? Temporary.
When you’re in it, it feels permanent. It isn’t.
- You are more capable than you think.
I didn’t feel strong. I felt terrified. Strength, I learned, is often just doing the next thing while shaking.
Divorce is emotional. It’s relational. It’s spiritual.
And it is deeply financial.
We don’t prepare women for that part. We tell them to “be strong.” We tell them “It will work out.” We rarely sit them down and say, “Let’s talk about cash flow, housing, income, legal timelines, and how to survive the 18-month gap.”
But that gap is where so much of the real battle happens.
Before the judge signs anything.
Before the paperwork is finalized.
Before the world sees you as officially divorced.
That in-between season is raw.
If you are going through a divorce, separation, or a major life transition and trying to figure out your finances in the middle of it, you don’t have to navigate that alone.
This is exactly the kind of season I help people through.
Together, we can look at where you are financially, create a clear plan for the next steps, and help you rebuild stability one decision at a time.
If that’s something you need right now, I’d love to work with you.
Reach out to schedule a free insight session to see if financial coaching is right for you.
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