There’s something powerful about creating a life that reflects your values, your goals, and your evolution over time. Being single has given me the space to ask: What do I actually want? What kind of life feels meaningful to me now? And those answers keep changing—and deepening—as I grow.

I’ve done a lot of growing over the past few years, not by accident, but through some of the hardest and most defining experiences of my life. I spent a lot of time in therapy during my divorce, and even more after it ended—especially following the death of my ex-husband. In those periods of intense reflection, I learned a lot about myself. I sat with old patterns, challenged some deep-rooted beliefs, and worked to reimagine what I wanted my life to look like moving forward.

But growth doesn’t just happen in a therapist’s office. Some of the most meaningful changes came through relationships—particularly the new ones I built after loss. When you meet people during a time when you’re rebuilding, they see you clearly. They accept your reality as it is. I’ve grown so much from the honesty, laughter, and support of friends who have walked with me during this chapter. These relationships have shaped me in real and lasting ways.

And then there was the discomfort. I didn’t like this part. At all. But I grew through it. Being newly alone, navigating grief, questioning how my life ended up so far from what I planned—it was painful. There’s no glossing over it. But discomfort forced me to dig deep and find strength I didn’t know I had. It taught me that growth isn’t always graceful. Sometimes it looks like crying on the floor, showing up when you don’t want to, or getting through the day one small decision at a time.

I’m also a fundamentally curious person, and that curiosity became a lifeline. I read a ton of books to get me through the messiness of divorce and the fog of early grief. I looked for ideas, strategies, stories—anything that could help me make sense of what I was going through. That hunger to learn helped me put the pieces of my life back together in a way that felt intentional.

More recently, I’ve leaned into trying new hobbies, exploring activities I hadn’t made space for before. I’ve been adding joy deliberately—not waiting for it to show up, but actively inviting it in. This is where purposeful action comes in. I’m designing a life that feels rich on purpose. Not because everything is easy or perfect, but because I want this life to feel good. I’ve pursued creative outlets, planned travel, invested in friendships, and found ways to enjoy myself again. Purpose isn’t always about productivity. Sometimes, it’s about creating experiences that make you feel alive.

Of course, growth also means confronting old habits. For me, perfectionism and self-criticism are constant battles. I hold myself to high standards, and I can be really hard on myself when I fall short. This is an area I still work on every week. I know it holds me back sometimes, and unlearning it isn’t quick—but it’s part of the process. I’m trying to speak to myself more kindly and give myself permission to be human.

And then there’s the part that used to feel like wasting time: rest and integration. I’ve come to realize how essential it is. I need quiet space to think, to process, to absorb. Sometimes I don’t realize I’m growing until I look back and see how that stillness allowed something to settle and shift inside me. Rest isn’t passive—it’s part of how I heal and understand myself more fully.

Growth happens in seasons. There are times I’ve pushed hard and taken risks. Other times I’ve slowed down and gone inward. Both are valid. Both move me forward.

Being single doesn’t mean life is on pause. It means I get to design the life I want—step by step. I get to explore my own potential, without needing someone else to co-sign every choice. I may not always feel certain, but I trust myself more deeply now. I know how far I’ve come.

In a world that often defines people by their relationships, it feels good to define myself by how I grow, what I create, and how I live out my values. That’s the life I want to keep building—one that feels like mine.