This isn’t something I’d usually do — write publicly about something this personal — but the last six months have been the hardest of my life, and I need to mark this moment somehow. I need to document how I’m feeling, so that one day, hopefully, I can look back and see how far I’ve come.
My wife and I are divorcing after 17 years together. It is not something I want or ever thought would happen, but here we are…
We’ve spent the past six months still living under the same roof, trying to work out the practicalities of unwinding a life we built together — for us, and for our boys. It’s been long, painful, confusing, and frankly, torturous.
To love someone deeply, and still not be what they need, or not having been able to show it in the way they need… I don’t think I was prepared for how much that would hurt. It’s a heartbreak I wouldn’t wish on anyone. I’ve spent so much time wishing I’d been better. Wishing I could’ve given her what she needed. Wishing things could’ve gone differently.
But the truth is, I can’t go back. I can only go forward — and that’s what this blog is for.
A place to process it all. To get thoughts out of my head and down in words.
To remember the hard bits, celebrate the good ones, and maybe even laugh a little when I can.
To hear from others who’ve been in this strange, lonely space or others that are currently navigating their way through something similar.
To leave a trail for the version of me that’s still to come.
Right now, though? It’s rough.
I feel lonely in a way I’ve never felt before. The life I thought I had — the one I built around love, family, and a future — has been pulled out from under me, and the emptiness it’s left behind is huge.
I feel sad. Sad for her. And sad for the boys.
I feel like I’ve failed.
Some days I feel unlovable, hopeless, and completely lost.
It’s hard to keep going. Hard to see the light. And it physically hurts.
But I will keep going. For the boys — because they are my everything. They make me smile when nothing else can. They keep me grounded, even when I feel like I’m floating in pieces. The thought of only being with them 50% of the time — not doing breakfast and bedtime every night — breaks me. But I will be there for them, every second I can be. That will never change.
I know in time I will get through this, but it currently feels a long way away. The future looks black and I am longing for some light. I want to feel happy and content again, to feel peaceful and to feel loved.
This blog won’t be pretty or polished. It’s not here to impress anyone. It’s here so I can feel less alone in this, and maybe help someone else feel less alone too.
If you’re a dad going through something similar, or just someone who feels like they’re at rock bottom — please know you don’t have to carry it all alone.
I live in the UK and I’ve been going to Andy’s Man Club, which has been a lifeline. Just sitting in a room with other men who get it — no pressure, no judgement — has made a real difference. I’m grateful to have that. I’m grateful for my friends and family. And most of all, I’m grateful for my boys.
This is day one. I don’t know what comes next, but I’m still here.
Dad Mode: Half Time, Full Heart 