Divorce: The Transformative Power of Crisis
Divorce: The Transformative Power of Crisis
-M’Recia Seegmiller
“Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly.”
― Chuang Tzu
“I want a divorce.”
These four words can make your entire world feel like it’s collapsing. Maybe they’re being spoken by your spouse, or maybe they’re escaping from your own lips. Either way, the reality is the same: the life you envisioned for yourself is ending.
For many, this moment is deeply complex. Most divorces are preceded by a long season of struggle, conflict, or disconnection. Choosing to end the relationship can bring intense feelings of both loss and relief. And while the decision may ultimately be the right one, the process of divorce can be profoundly disorganizing. It can feel like a true crisis.
The bittersweet truth is that crisis has two sides. It unravels the old structure of life while also opening the mind and heart to profound change. The breaking point of divorce can reshape a person from the inside out. Learning to hold space for complex and contradictory feelings and choosing to move forward with intention can help you use the upheaval of divorce as fertile ground for growth and transformation.
Crisis
When you first fall in love, the world feels expansive and full of possibility. Everything seems brighter, richer, more alive. Love brings with it a current of vitality: a creative, life-giving energy that pulls us toward connection, beauty, and hope.
When a relationship ends, that current reverses. The future you once imagined dissolves and life can feel suddenly small and barren - your mind full of question marks instead of a clear picture of what comes next.
Loss has a gravity of its own, pulling us inward toward isolation, self-doubt, and despair. The end of a marriage rarely involves just one loss. Divorce frequently rocks our social, financial, emotional, and spiritual worlds. The weight of so many endings can overwhelm even the strongest coping skills, thrusting us into a true crisis: a disruptive period that demands more resilience than our usual coping strategies can hold.
Transformation
While a crisis probably sounds like a bad thing (and let’s be honest, the overall flavor is bitter), within a crisis there is opportunity for growth and transformation. When things fall apart, there is a chance to reorganize everything in a new way. Endings lead to new beginnings.
I often invite clients to imagine the wreckage of the life they had planned, sitting on the concrete stoop among the smoldering ashes of their metaphorical home. At first, you would be overcome with the shock of what was lost: your grandmother’s china collection and the creaky wood floors where your children took their first steps. Your body feels heavy and everything feels hopeless. After some time, the ground beneath you slowly reveals itself as usable space: you realize that the foundation is still intact and the salvaged boards from the east side of the house can be used for framing. Feelings of devastation quietly ease and in their place grows a desire to begin again. The heaviness lifts, and a small sense of hope returns. The same is true inside us. When the structures that once held our lives together collapse, we gain the rare chance to rebuild.
The Science of Change
When I say a crisis is an opportunity for growth, it is not just poetic, it is scientific. Neuroscientists have found that during periods of upheaval, the brain becomes more open to forming new neural pathways and releasing old ones. This adaptive process, known as neuroplasticity, means that crisis does not only break us down. It also makes us more malleable.
But this opportunity isn’t automatic. Just as fire can purify or destroy, crisis can expand or constrict us. Under prolonged stress, the same neuroplastic potential that allows us to grow can also reinforce fear, defensiveness, and withdrawal. The pathways we rehearse are the ones that strengthen.
This is why the choices we make during a crisis matter. Turning toward intentional healing can help the brain reorganize in ways that foster resilience and integration. Avoidance, bitterness, or self-destruction can deepen the grooves of despair. In this way, crisis holds both the potential for regression or growth: an unstable period when the system is open to change, for better or worse.
So how do we choose growth over regression? How do we use crisis as fertile ground rather than a place of collapse?
One Step at a Time
Years ago, I was driving through a narrow canyon in deep fog - the kind that looks like pea soup and only lets you see a few feet ahead of you. It was terrifying not to be able to see the road ahead. At first I was overcome with fear and anxiety. After a few deep breaths I realized that the only way to make it through was to focus on what was directly ahead of me. I had to trust that if I traveled at a safe pace and stayed in my lane, that the bit ahead of me that I could see would safely get me to the next bit.
The amount of disorganization in a crisis can be overwhelming, causing us to spiral into anxiety or to dissociate or go numb. When the changes feel overwhelming, it is important to keep your eyes on the near future. It’s important to know what direction you’re headed in, but taking things one step at a time can help you stay grounded and make wise decisions.
Two Things Can be True
Grief is what we feel when we lose something we care about. Oftentimes, grief is not experienced all at once, but in cycles. Grieving is complex and creates a constellation of different feelings that can be experienced at the same time. It can be surprising to find that woven in between the losses of divorce are moments of relief, satisfaction, contentment, and even joy.
When two feelings are perceived as opposites, we as humans tend to believe that they cancel each other out. We struggle to imagine that we can feel happiness and sadness at the same time. The process of using crisis for growth and transformation means we must learn that two things can be true. Complex and seemingly contradictory experiences must be held at the same time: anger and acceptance, loss and relief, gratitude and depression, hope and fear, etc.
One of my favorite catch phrases is “On the other side of grief is fertile ground for something new.” Divorce may uncover values you silenced, dreams you postponed, or parts of yourself you forgot you had. Shared custody can provide free time to pursue new interests. Losing the financial support of a spouse may push you to advance your career or further your education. Divorce might mean moving into a new home, starting new relationships, and, most importantly, discovering who you are without a partner.
Another one of my favorite catchphrases: “You’re allowed to enjoy the upsides of something you didn’t want.” You can be devastated about losing your dream home and excited about decorating your new apartment.
Intention
A friend of mine experienced a devastating fire in her home. Fortunately, decent home insurance and salvageable upper floor meant that my friend was able to remodel what was destroyed. And since she was starting over from scratch, she was finally able to move that kitchen island over a few feet and widen that doorway that always felt too cramped. Building and remodeling start with blueprints. Rebuilding your life starts with vision and intention. Take some time to imagine what you want your future to be and take steps to make that future a reality. Start those guitar lessons, take a course on bookkeeping, or finally allow your sister-in-law to set you up with her cute single friend.
Consider the Butterfly
We’re all familiar with the life-cycle of a caterpillar. Countless hours of reading “The Hungry Little Caterpillar” taught me that a caterpillar hatches from an egg, eats and eats and eats, and turns into a fat caterpillar. Pretty soon, it wraps itself in a cocoon and then bam - butterfly! But, a lesser known fact is what happens INSIDE the cocoon. Somewhere between caterpillar and butterfly, the creature inside the chrysalis turns into goo. The caterpillar is dissolved in its own digestive chemicals, leaving only a few essential bits intact. From that pile of goo, the butterfly begins to form. When we admire the vibrant beauty of a butterfly, we rarely think about the realities of what came before. Perhaps those who we admire most have endured reorganizing challenges of their own.
I believe that life is about facing difficulties and allowing them to help you learn and grow along the way. It’s not what happens to us that matters most, but what we do with what life hands us. No one gets married expecting to divorce. Yet when we are able to pivot and move forward with openness and intention, we can allow one of the greatest challenges of our lives to reshape us into wiser, stronger, more wholehearted versions of ourselves.
