Starting Over at 38: A New Home, A New Life

Three years ago, I walked away from an abusive marriage with my then 1-year-old son in my arms and a determination to build something better. I knew leaving wouldn’t be the hardest part—what came after would test me in ways I never imagined. The road ahead was filled with battles, from emotional turmoil to legal fights, but I refused to give up. My son deserved a safe, stable home, and I was willing to do whatever it took to make that a reality.

The court battle for custody was grueling. I fought tooth and nail, pouring my heart into proving what I already knew: that my son needed me. I hoped for full custody, believing that would give him the security and peace he deserved. But in the end, I was granted shared custody. It wasn’t the victory I had envisioned, but it was something. A step forward. A chance to move on, even if it wasn’t on my terms.

The divorce itself was another blow. My ex-husband had no assets to split, so the court divided what I had built. My liquid cash, my 401k, the home we had lived in—all up for negotiation. In the end, he got the house. He walked away with most of our furniture and belongings as well, leaving me with nothing but my son, my depleted savings, and the sheer determination to start over. He never paid me a dime to offset my savings and retirement, but I refused to let that injustice break me.

Fast forward to today. I’m 38 years old, my son is 3, and I just closed on my second new construction home. To most, it might seem like just another house, but to me, it’s a symbol of everything I have fought for, everything I have rebuilt. It’s proof that no matter how much was taken from me, I could still rise.

After the divorce, I didn’t sit in the wreckage. I refused to let bitterness consume me. Instead, I put my head down and worked. I took a leap and made a career shift, one that paid more and opened doors I never even knew existed. That job gave me financial stability, and with that stability came the ability to dream again. It qualified me for this home—a fresh start, one where the walls hold no painful memories of the past.

I won’t pretend it’s been easy. Shared custody means I have to coordinate constantly with someone I’d rather forget. There are moments when the injustice of losing the house still stings, when I think about how unfairly everything was divided. But I refuse to let those losses define me. What defines me is my resilience, my refusal to stay down. I turned a paycheck into a foundation, a career into a lifeline, and a dream into a set of keys.

This home is more than just a structure—it’s a place where my son and I will make new memories. His laughter will fill the backyard, our quiet nights reading stories will become cherished routines, and every little milestone will be celebrated in a space I built for us. At 38, I’m not just starting over—I’m starting better.

I’ve learned that resilience isn’t about grand gestures or dramatic comebacks. It’s about the quiet decision to keep moving forward, even when everything feels stacked against you. It’s about betting on yourself, even when the odds seem impossible.

If you’re reading this and you’re in the thick of your own storm, please know this: the life you want is still possible. It may not look exactly how you imagined, and it may take everything you have to get there, but it exists. It’s waiting for you to claim it.

For me, it’s this new home, with my son’s tiny fingerprints already marking the walls. For you, it could be something entirely different. But whatever it is, don’t stop fighting for it. Keep going. Keep building.