Divorce Stole My Voice, And I'm Taking It Back

by Amanda Cantrell 15 days ago in divorce

I don't know if you've ever been through a divorce, maybe you have, maybe you haven't, but if you have you'll understand exactly what I mean when I say my divorce stole my voice.

Divorce Stole My Voice, 
And I'm Taking It Back

I don't know if you've ever been through a divorce, maybe you have, maybe you haven't, but if you have you'll understand exactly what I mean when I say my divorce stole my voice.

In actuality, my literal voice is doing just fine, but the "voice" I was referring to earlier was a euphemism for my spirit, way of being, and confidence. Like most marital dissolutions, mine hasn't been a walk in the park by any means, more like a belly-crawl through barbed wire mud, and as you can imagine, it takes a hefty toll on the brain and body fairly quickly (not to mention the pain & suffering my checkbook has experienced).

November 2019 will mark the second year post-separation, and though my divorce has yet to become finalized legally, I find myself a lot less exhausted with the process than I was a year ago.

Emotionally turbulent, physically exhausted, mentally frazzled, and spiritually broken would describe my existence a year ago. No longer was I the risk-taking, confident, sex vlogger on her way up. I had to change myself, stop writing for sex blogs and reviewing sex toys for a living because my ex was suddenly using my career against me in the eyes of the court. I shed my sexy exterior and donned the PG "mom" persona that would keep me from potentially losing custody of my daughter in the conservative state of Tennessee. I dismantled my YouTube channel ("DirtyMilfNextDoor"), deleted all of my sexy carefree Instagram photos, and essentially destroyed my freelance business brand which took me years to build. After erasing the old me, I shut myself off from the outside world and I stayed quiet. I stopped writing, I stopped vlogging, and I certainly stopped talking about sex. My ex had won, he accomplished his mission; not only had his threats of legal action shut my business down, they shut me up. They took my spirit, they took my voice.

As the days turned into weeks, then months, that tiny voice in the back of my head refused to remain silent forever. "You need to write, you're a writer," it would say. Just as quickly as I'd heard that faint voice pep up my spirit, the fear would set in. The guilt and shame of retreating from what felt like my calling, to write and connect with others, would swallow me whole. Just recently I one day had the realization that if I don't free myself by using my voice to share my story with the world, I would suffocate. I couldn't allow that to happen. How could I look at myself in the mirror knowing I gave up my voice? How can I raise my daughter to use her voice and stand in her truth if I couldn't in mine?

So this is me taking my power back, speaking up and out, and reaching across the vast black etchings of space (a.k.a. the internet) to talk about me, my divorce, and both the ugliness and beauty it's taught me thus far. If you find yourself unlucky (or lucky depending on how you look at it) enough to ever go through a divorce, believe me when I say it gets better, you will get through it. And remember to wind up on the other side with the most important part of yourself, your spiritual essence, intact.

divorce
How does it work?
Read next: 'Chocolate Kisses'