I am not the person I was this time last year, and thank God for that.
This time last year, I was a version of myself I never imagined I would be – incredibly lonely, grieving, lost, with zero self-confidence and feeling like an absolute failure. I was about to file for divorce and, as dramatic as it sounds, it felt like my world was falling apart and there was nothing I could do to save it.
I moved to the UAE nearly 12 years ago to be with my partner, whom I was dating at the time. When I came to this country, I made the classic mistake of entirely embracing his world, instead of making one of my own.
So, when the split happened after 13 years of being together, I found myself all alone without my partner or people I had called friends, trapped in an apartment that was full of good and bad memories.
I didn't know what to do because everything that was familiar, known and safe was either tainted or simply did not exist anymore.
A friend recently pointed out that healing from a relationship that was healthy and happy for the most part is harder because walking away from a toxic relationship makes you feel like a weight is off your shoulders. It took me a long, long time to pick myself up again. I was constantly doubting myself and my abilities. I gave in to the crippling loneliness and cried myself to sleep for months.
Sometimes I got out of bed only because I had two cats to keep alive. I had to slap on a smile and head to work, which was the only thing keeping me going at the time.
Everything seemed overwhelming, from visiting the restaurants my ex-husband and I frequented to seeing happy couple pictures on social media. Even some songs and films would bring back those familiar memories. Cue more tears.
My partner and I had compartmentalised our lives in a way where we took care of specific things separately, and I was petrified I would make a grave error during the eventual moving process without him around to fix it. The cars, which were usually his department to deal with, felt like a liability, and the process of selling one felt overwhelming. As luck would have it, there was even some legal drama involved with the buyer, but it was ultimately resolved without my ex needing to get involved.
The hardest part, though, was moving to a different, and smaller, apartment. It took me an exceptionally long time because every little thing had a memory attached to it, and disposing of it made it increasingly apparent that I had to move forward by myself now.
And move forward I did.
Yes, I made mistakes along the way, but each one came with a lesson, that I could move on and tackle situations without falling back on him. I went into survival mode, remembering how independent I was before I met him, and constantly reassured myself that being alone wasn't the end of the world.
I had immense support from my parents, sister and friends back home – and I felt like I had to become a better version of myself if only for them.
It is only May, but this year has been life-changing. I've made a fresh start by moving into my own apartment; I have become more social; and I have set out to do things I’ve never done before – such as planning my first solo trip next month and signing up for salsa lessons when I am back.
I have also been slowly building my own circle of girl friends, some of whom are in a similar situation as me – single after long-term marriages. We check in on each other, on good days and bad, to ensure the other is never lonely, and do things we would probably do with our partners in our past lives.
Now I go to sleep reassured that I might have lost a life I had known, but at 39, I am building one that is brand new and full of exciting possibilities. I may have lost a soulmate, but I’ve found myself again.
