What Divorce Taught Me About Redefining Wellness

Growing up in both American culture and the wellness space, I was taught that I was an individual boat responsible for trimming my sails and setting my own course.

It was my job to work through limiting beliefs, improve my habits, honor my preferences, and go for my goals.

And if I did that, I’d have a great life.

I took to this philosophy and applied it to my life with dedication.

I cleaned up my mindset. I designed a hefty morning routine. I built a business.

It was overall fun to see progress and grow! I thought I was living a most excellent life complete with accountability buddies and vision boards.

I didn’t understand what I was missing.

Though I did notice that I regularly wished I had more friends.

I found that I was more susceptible to extreme thought patterns without any people around to check me.

And I wasn’t sleeping well or feeling relaxed in my old home with my ex-husband.

When my ex and I divorced there was a yawning chasm of space in my life that I didn’t know what to do with.

That first summer alone was so slow. I didn’t know how to fill my time, and the friendships that I’d built while in my marriage didn’t quite translate to single life. I was also taking a break from watching tv.

I initially threw myself into online dating and learning how to date.

And then to maximize my chances of meeting someone I increasingly increased my participation in different hobbies and communities.

Now I know what I was missing with my individualistic pursuits.

I was missing being fed socially by healthy networks of people.

I was missing regularly being treated with care and consideration.

I was missing seeing friendly faces who know me and are happy to see me.

Have I met someone that I’m currently in a great relationship with? Nope!

But by participating in community at a higher-level my life has expanded and my happiness has increased in a striking way.

I started being friendlier at my gym, chatting with folks most mornings.

I built into meditation, dance, and improv communities and found friends in all of them.

Over time I learned more about what caring treatment from people feels like, and with that benchmark I am getting better at not tolerating poor treatment from men.

So from where I’m now standing, I want to paint a broader picture of where we look when we look to building a life we love.

There’s definitely a place for paying attention to our individual actions, self-improvement, and going for our goals.

But it’s not the entire puzzle of living a great life.

We have to look at the environments that we’re in and what levels of trust are present in them.

We have to look at our relational health.

What I keep hearing from disciplines ranging from economics to political science to urban planning to early childhood development to couples therapy is that a cornerstone of our well-being is related to our levels of relational trust.

When we trust our neighbors, we feel better.

When we go into spaces and are treated well and see friendly faces, we relax more.

When our partners answer the question, “are you there for me?” with a clear and consistent yes (and repair when they miss), we feel safe.

We’re built to be social. We’re happiest when we’re regularly part of healthy social environments.

Want to improve your life and your levels of relational health? Check out the community events I’ve got coming up this year!