When do we know it’s over?

When we talk more about the past than the present—and no longer about the future.

When the nostalgia of who we used to be together feels stronger than who we are now.

It’s hard to break up, to separate, to divorce—especially with young children. But if there is one thing I’ve learned in my eleven years of practice, it’s this: children suffer more when parents stay together for them. That belief is a lie. You don’t stay for your children. You stay for the little boy or little girl inside you who suffered because of their own parents and is still trying to make it work.

But hopeless love is endless. And as painful as it is, you must choose your destiny—your alignment, your happiness. Why make yourself, and the person you once loved and admired, miserable?

What is it about divorce that feels so hard? Not the new way of being or living—but the inability to leave even when you know your hearts are no longer aligned.

Divorce is not a failure to me. It is an act of love: accepting that I can no longer be part of your happiness, and loving you enough to let you be loved the way you deserve. So I give you permission to find that—with someone else.

With love,
Marine Sélénée