the soft waves before the storm

when love stops feeling like love

I was talking to my younger sister the other day—my sister who always felt more like a brother—telling her about my divorce journey when I suddenly felt compelled to ask: "Doesn't it make sense that I'll be divorced in my 40s? If it's going to be anyone, it'll be me, right?

She chuckled and agreed with a soft yes.

Many mistakenly believe that divorce hits you like a sudden storm. Don't get me wrong—it absolutely can for many people. But more often, it comes like soft waves against the shore of your consciousness, a slow internal movement that grows stronger with each tide.

I have moments from my early motherhood that I still recall with perfect clarity, moments when I knew in my gut that this isn't how marriage and motherhood are supposed to feel. These weren't the monumental moments others envision—no infidelity or major loss—just tiny interactions between two ordinary people that didn't feel like loving acts.

When I talked to a few people about it, mainly older women in my life (I was one of the first in my friend group to become a mother), I was often met with a series of minimizing comments: "Oh, all men are like that." "You should see so-and-so's husband," “But the kids!”

These well-meaning words continued to perpetuate and normalize behaviors that kill intimacy and connection between two people.

I truly believed I was asking for too much, wanting more from my marriage and from my partner in motherhood.

I don't believe these older women meant any harm. But I now understand that our society normalizes behaviors and perspectives that are symptomatic of larger, more toxic masculine and feminine dynamics in our culture.

My advice to any woman out there who is slowly becoming consumed by these soft waves of pain, resentment, and silence: please know they don't get better with time, kids, or prayers. They only solidify what you're willing to withstand and withhold.

Over time, these patterns teach others what you will tolerate.

Without you even becoming conscious of it, these soft waves eventually gather force, becoming a series of louder storms that consume your entire being—storms so overwhelming that you have no choice but to burn everything down to the ground.

The burning is absolutely necessary. The storms will come. But you don't have to suffer longer than you need to.

Trust those early waves. They're trying to tell you something important.

You are not too much for wanting love that feels like love. You never were—and you never will be.