The Garden Within: Healing Takes Root in Still Places

“I planted peace in the space where love once withered.”

When I filed for divorce, I was angry, disappointed, and scared. More than anything, I felt like everything I had poured into that marriage had been wasted. All the years of building a home, a plan, a future - time I could have been investing in someone who truly wanted to create a life with me - I felt lost. Instead of feeling cherished, I felt used, as if my efforts had helped elevate someone else while leaving me feeling empty.

When I caught my ex-husband cheating, I remember the drive home. I was furious, but also… relieved. For years, I had been gaslit into believing I was imagining things, that my insecurities were the problem, that I was “crazy.” Seeing the truth was painful, but it ultimately set me free. That drive home was the moment the rock lifted from my back.

The early days after the divorce were filled with mixed emotions, freedom and fury, grief and grace. I realized that peace wasn’t going to come from being right or seeking revenge. It would only come from forgiveness. I had to forgive him for his flaws, just as I wanted others to forgive me for mine. I remembered something he once told me: “You have a hard time forgiving people.” And for the first time, I understood what he meant.

Forgiving him didn’t mean excusing what he did; it meant freeing myself from the burden of resentment. I had to accept that we are all imperfect humans, each carrying pain from our own pasts. People hurt people, not because they’re evil, but because they are broken. Once I accepted that truth, something inside me softened.

That’s when healing truly began. I spent hours in my garden, hands in the soil, lost in thought. My garden became my sanctuary, the place where I prayed, reflected, and listened. Every flower I planted felt like planting peace back into my life. The more I nurtured the earth, the more I was nurturing myself.

Forgiveness rooted me. Reflection steadied me. And nature, with all its stillness and renewal, healed me in ways words never could.

“My garden saved me long before I realized I was saving myself.”

Healing is not about forgetting what broke you; it’s about learning to grow through it. Sometimes the most potent healing happens in silence, in the steady rhythm of tending to something outside yourself. Nature teaches us that beauty takes time, that renewal comes after shedding, and that every ending holds the seed of a beginning.

Content Note: Mentions emotional recovery after divorce.