Six months on, forever to go

Elizabeth Anile-133.jpg

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” I pleaded with my friend sitting next to me, praying she could somehow alleviate the pain.

“It’s just too excruciating. How the hell am I going to get through this?”

She turned to me.

“You’re not going to like this. But the next six months are going to suck. You’re in for a really bumpy ride. But I promise you, I promise you by October… everything will feel different. Everything will look different. You will be a different person. And you’ll look back at this in awe you were able to pull yourself together, put one foot in front of the other, and get through it.”

“… six months,” I winced.

It had only been a few hours. The fog clouding my head was thick with shock. I couldn’t see past that night, let alone in six months time.

“But I don’t want to.”

“I know. But you have to.”

And just like that, it’s October.

In some ways, the months ticked by excruciatingly slow. Hours bled into days, which somehow morphed into weeks. 

But mostly, I feel like I’ve blinked, and here I am. I’m alive. I made it through the toughest six months of my life. And I’m still smiling. 

So, who am I now?

Who I am isn’t defined by what happened to me. It has played a role in shaping me, but that’s it. 

We don’t realise the depth of our resilience until we are stripped back to our core. It’s only then we can begin to rebuild ourselves through intense self-discovery, retaining facets of our old life that serve us, and letting go of everything that doesn’t.

I’m not the same woman I was then, 3 months ago, even 1 week ago.

I’ve shed my skin. I hardly recognise the girl I was in April. She was insecure, defeated, rejected. Poor thing. Her life was so exhausting, always pushing against the tide, hoping he’ll fleetingly look at her the way he once did so she could cling to it as reassurance he was still the man of her dreams.

Now, I know exactly what I want from my life and a future partner. I’ve been through too much to let anyone in that isn’t good enough. 

I will never settle for what’s easy, convenient, or superficial, or give anyone the power to chip away at my self-worth again. 

I will never lose myself in the labyrinth of insecure love or fight for someone who isn’t fighting for me. 

I will never be played to be a fool again or accept mediocrity in life, love, career, friendships. 

I deserve the world. I know my worth. And despite everything, I love myself more than ever. And so I should, and so should you! Any woman who has been through the wringer and emerged a fighter is a warrior. Never, ever let anyone define your happiness but you. A partner should complement you, not complete you.

It’s through knowing what you will no longer accept, an image forms of what you will, and this opens up your soul to manifest all of your hopes and dreams into existence. 

I still have my moments. 

Anger. Grief. Sadness. They still pop by for a catch up. But instead of slamming the door in their face, I let them in, see what they want, sit with them for a little bit, then show them out. When they realise their presence doesn’t consume me like it used to, their visits will become less frequent, until eventually, they’ll move on. And so will I. 

The past has happened. There is no changing it. It now only exists in my mind. The sooner I quit overthinking and replaying failed scenarios, the sooner I can release it, and the quicker it will become part of the story of how I evolved into the most amazing version of myself. 

My son is my greatest achievement.


The second is finding a strength, resilience, and determination that roared inside me and I never knew existed until I was stripped of my family, my fiance, and my future as I knew it. 

In the darkest hour of April 10, the universe told me to pick myself up off the floor and crawl into bed. Then, it whispered “so, what are you going to do now?”

Well, universe, thank you for the lesson. Boy, did it hurt. But my god, have I come out swinging… and I’m ready for a life I could never have dreamed of six months ago. 


Elizabeth AnileComment