In the beginning, I made it all about him.
It was an escape of a sort. A distraction. If I stayed focused on him, I didn’t have to think about me.
What I was going to do now that my life was washed away.
How I was going to survive and rebuild.
Where I was going to live.
And who I was without him.
But at some point, I had to decide to make it all about me. To turn my energies towards what I could change rather than curse what I could not.
When you first step upon a nail, the sharp steel tearing through tender flesh, it is prudent to focus on the nail. First by removing the offending stake and then by examining it for any signs of rust or fragments left behind.
And then at some point, the nail no longer matters.
Only the wound is of consequence. And your attentions must turn to the ministrations of puncture care, ensuring that it heals fully without infection to poison the blood.
A difficult divorce is much the same. Once the distressing person has been removed, focus on them only leaves your wounds unattended.
Because at some point, the nail no longer matters.
Only you do.