6. Five Posts one Goodbye!

 

A Prelude to Healing!

Some things are too heavy for a single post. These five were part of one long goodbye—a raw and honest chapter of my healing. Now that they’ve been shared, I want to give them the closure they deserve.

I didn’t plan to write them.

They came like a flood—uninvited, unstoppable, but undoubtedly necessary.

Each post was a wound reopening, but also a stitch closing. When I look back at them now, I see not just pain—I see clarity. I see growth. I see the woman who made it through.

What follows isn’t more pain. This post is here to mark what’s already been said, already been felt, already been released.

Because those five posts weren’t just writing—they were my farewell.

“Tot hier toe en nie verder nie.”

This far, and no further.

Here are the five that closed that chapter:

1. When Healing Feels Worse Than Breaking – When clarity, confusion, and grief collide and tear you open deeper than you thought possible.
2. The Ache of Nightfall – The quiet grief that creeps in at dusk, when the day has gone and all that’s left is memory.
3. What No One Tells You About Divorce – The aftermath we don’t talk about: the invisible wounds, the shattered expectations, the silence.
4. Trust, Broken Mirrors, and Love – The weight of doubt, the craving for trust, and the hard road of turning back to your own heart—and back to God.
5. The Last Time I Cry Like This – The line in the sand. The decision to rise, to close the book, and to walk forward—stronger, clearer, free.

I may still speak about pain in the future, but never like this again. That part of me has been heard, honored, and set down.

From here, my story changes.

My mother and I will travel the roads in our caravan. I will explore my calling as a death doula. And I will live fully, as a woman who knows her worth and walks with both softness and strength.

Thank you for reading.

Thank you for holding space.

This was the goodbye.

The next chapter already waits—with open skies and a steadier heart.

Did something here speak to you?

Leave a comment if you feel moved, or simply sit with me in quiet.

If you’d like to walk this road with me, follow Nomadic Grandmother for new stories.

— x Elsabe