Untethered: The Freedom and Loneliness of Life After Divorce

“Emergency contact?”

One of my sisters, I guess.

It’s such a simple question. A little box on a form. But sometimes that box reminds me of everything I don’t have.

My mom died in 2015. My dad died in 2022. I’m divorced. I don’t have parents to call, and I don’t have a spouse waiting at home.

The word I keep coming back to is untethered.

There is freedom in that word. There is also loneliness. Depending on the day, I feel more of one than the other.

I have two sisters. I have friends. I have my child, whom I love more than anything. There are people in my life who care about me. But having people who love you doesn’t always feel the same as having someone who shares the everyday responsibility of your life.

Someone who already knows what’s going on. Someone you don’t have to catch up before you can tell them why you’re upset. Someone who expects to hear how your day went.

Sometimes it seems like everyone has that person, and I’m solo.

The part of being solo that I love

I get to make my own decisions.

If I want to budget for a trip to Asheville, I can. I look at my finances, figure out what works, and make the plan. I don’t need someone else to agree that the trip is worth taking.

If my doctor and I decide a new medication makes sense for me, I can make that decision for my health. If the grass needs cutting, I can cut it when I want to.

There are moments when I hear about all the coordinating and negotiating that goes into sharing a life with someone, and I think, I’m good being single.

I understand that partnership involves talking things through, especially when a decision affects both people. I also appreciate the ease of being able to make my own choices. I know my priorities, and I get to decide what works for me.

That freedom matters to me.

Of course, I still have a budget. I still have responsibilities. I’m a mom and a business owner. I can’t just disappear on a vacation whenever the mood strikes.

But within those responsibilities, I get to decide what I want my life to look like. I can spend time and money on something that matters to me without having to convince someone else that it should matter.

There are days when that feels really good.

And then I want someone to call

Then something exciting happens.

I get good news about my business. Something makes me laugh. My son does something I want to tell someone about. And I wish I had a partner to share it with.

Or something sad happens, and I wish I could come home to someone who would listen. Someone who could sit with me while I figure out how I feel.

Sometimes it’s just free time. The responsibilities are handled, my child isn’t home, and I have the freedom to do whatever I want.

Except what I want is company.

I can appreciate my independence and still wish someone were sitting next to me. I can enjoy making my own decisions and still get tired of making every one of them myself.

And without my parents, there is another layer to that feeling. I can’t pick up the phone and call my mom or dad. Whatever partnership I might find in the future, I will still miss them.

Some days, being untethered feels less like freedom and more like wondering who I can lean on.

Am I asking for too much?

I wonder that sometimes.

Are my standards too high? Am I too picky? Am I so used to being on my own that I’m making it harder to let someone in?

There have been times when I questioned my standards, gave someone a chance, and ended up hurt. Those experiences have helped me get clearer about what matters to me in a relationship.

I still want to be open to someone. I also want to trust myself when something doesn’t feel right. Loneliness can make me question what I’m asking for, but it doesn’t mean I need to lower my standards just to have company.

I do know that I want a relationship where I can feel close to someone and still feel like myself. I want to be able to make decisions, have interests, and grow, while also having someone to share my life with.

I want to look forward to being with that person. I want being together to feel good in the ordinary moments, too.

Until I find that, there is a lot about being single that I want to keep.

If you feel this too

If you recognize yourself in this, you don’t have to pretend you love every part of being single. You can appreciate your freedom and miss companionship. Part of rebuilding after divorce is learning what you want to keep about this life and what you hope to share with someone someday.

In my work as a divorce coach, I make room for those mixed feelings. You don’t need to have everything figured out to start building a life that feels good to you. Sometimes that begins with being honest about what you miss, what you enjoy, and what you need next.

Where I am right now

For now, I’m focusing on my personal growth, my child, and my business.

That doesn’t mean I never feel lonely. It doesn’t mean I’ve stopped wanting love. It means those are the places where I want to put my energy right now.

I want to make memories with my son. I want to keep building a business that matters to me. I want to understand myself better, including what I need and what I’m no longer willing to overlook just because I wish I had someone.

I’m still going to have moments when that emergency contact question hurts. I’m still going to wish I had a partner to call with exciting news, or someone beside me when the house feels too quiet.

I’m also going to plan the trip to Asheville.

I don’t know how long I’ll be solo. But this is my life now, and I want to enjoy it, even while I wish some parts of it were different.

Today, I feel untethered. A little lonely. Free to make my own choices. And still hopeful that someday I’ll have someone I want to share them with.

If you’re rebuilding after divorce and trying to make sense of the freedom, loneliness, and everything in between, you don’t have to sort through it alone. Learn more about working with me.