Everybody loves to tell their story once they’ve made it through. They talk about the healing, the lessons, the glow-up after the storm. But what about the now? What about the messy middle—when you’re still raw, still trying to figure out how to breathe, still waking up every day in a life you didn’t choose? Nobody talks about that part.

When my 15-year marriage ended, I didn’t just lose a husband. I lost the version of life I thought I’d always have. I went from wife to single mom overnight. And let me tell you—living in that shift isn’t some quick, inspirational montage. It’s day after day of trying to hold my kids together while quietly falling apart myself. It’s learning to pay bills on my own. It’s sitting in silence after they’ve gone to bed, wondering how the hell I got here.

This is what acceptance looks like in the now: it’s ugly, heavy, and flat-out bullshit. It’s crying in the car so the kids don’t see. It’s putting on a strong face when you’re breaking inside. It’s carrying the weight of regret, anger, and disappointment, while still getting up every morning because people depend on you.

And yet—even in the middle of this bullshit—there are glimpses of blessings. Not the kind that make everything better overnight, but the kind that remind me I’m still growing. Freedom is starting to peek through in little ways—like realizing I don’t have to compromise my peace anymore. Perseverance shows up every time I keep going when I feel like quitting. Growth is slow, but it’s happening. And maybe, just maybe, peace and joy are waiting somewhere further down this road.

I’m not on the other side yet. I can’t package this up as a pretty testimony tied with a bow. I’m still living it. And maybe that’s the part people need to hear most: acceptance isn’t a destination. It’s a process, a daily grind, a mix of bullshit and blessings. And some days, the only victory is simply making it through.