If you weren’t the one who chose the separation, this letter is for you.

(assuming we’re all good parents and we all want what’s best for our children)

For the days when you wake up and still think this can’t be happening. For the days when you look at your life and feel as though someone has pressed the destroy button. For the days when you’re still searching for an explanation that somehow makes sense. There’s probably one question that keeps following you around. “Where did I go wrong?” Maybe you ask yourself every single day. Maybe while you’re driving. While you’re in the shower. While you’re trying to fall asleep. While you’re looking at your children. “What could I have done differently?”

But let me tell you something you may not be ready to hear just yet. Not every separation happens because someone failed. Sometimes it happens because two people can no longer walk the same path together. And no matter how hard you search, you may never find an answer that truly eases the pain. Because there are losses that cannot be fixed. They can only be carried.

You’ll also feel guilty. Very guilty. Guilty because of your children. Because of the two homes. The goodbyes. The backpacks. The days you won’t be there. The moments you’ll miss. But there’s one kind of guilt you have to let go of. The guilt of not having been able to save a relationship on your own when it needed two people to survive. Because love cannot be built by one person alone. A marriage cannot be built by one person alone. A family cannot be built by one person alone. And neither can a separation.

One more thing. Don’t turn your pain into a war. I know you’ll feel like it sometimes. I know there will be days when everything feels unfair. I know there will be days when you’re angry. But your children don’t need you to prove who was right. They need you to show them that they’re still safe. And that takes far greater courage.

It may also be hard to watch the other person move on. Smile. Travel. Breathe. As though they’re doing better than you are. But remember this: the fact that they were the one who made the decision doesn’t necessarily mean they aren’t suffering. It doesn’t mean they aren’t afraid. It doesn’t mean they don’t cry when nobody is watching. It doesn’t mean they haven’t lost important things too. Trying to understand that won’t make your pain any smaller. But it might stop it from destroying you.

If you’re the mother of a baby and you feel like nobody truly understands what you’re going through, I want you to know something too. It’s completely normal not to feel ready. Because you didn’t just go through a separation. You went through a pregnancy. You gave birth. You survived sleepless nights. You experienced a complete transformation of your identity. And now you’re being asked to accept a new life while you’re still learning how to live the one you had before. It’s only natural that your body and your heart need more time. Give them that time. But don’t stay there forever. Because your children don’t need you to remain broken to prove how much you love them. They need you to rebuild yourself. They need to see you smile again. They need to realise that life goes on. Even when the dream comes to an end.

And perhaps that’s the hardest part. Accepting that your story didn’t turn out the way you imagined it would. That the future you had pictured no longer exists. But that doesn’t mean your story is over. It simply means you don’t know the rest of it yet. There are chapters that, while we’re living them, feel like the end… when in reality they’re simply a change of direction. Your children don’t need you to win this war. They simply need you to make it through. To survive it. And that alone is already one of the greatest acts of love you can give them.

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