A New Kind of Anniversary

October 11, 2023
Our wedding anniversary.
But also — 6 months since our separation.

That day used to be sacred.
Every year, we made it count:
New Orleans.
Dallas.
Vegas.
Hotel staycations.
Laughter and intimacy with no distractions.
It was our day.
It was always magic. Always memory-making.

So, when the day rolled around in 2023, I was still processing the complete upheaval of what I thought my life would be. I knew it was going to hit me differently. I braced for it — anticipated the emotional fog that might come. Instead of pretending I’d be “fine,” I did something radical:
I gave that day back to myself.

I chose to reframe what that anniversary meant.
I decided to reset the emotional weight I carried.
And I made a conscious effort to redesign the experience.

Instead of grieving what was, I leaned into who I am becoming.

Because in 2023, it wasn’t “ours” anymore.

It was just mine.

So I did something different — I gave that day back to myself.
I took the day off. I decided to Reframe. Reset. Redesign.

I booked a spa day. Got my first blowout (I felt so soft, so feminine, so renewed).
Then I took myself on a solo date into the city — nervous, but curious.

The universe met me halfway: I won lottery tickets to Harry Potter and the Cursed Child via TodayTix.
Magical doesn’t even begin to describe it.

But it wasn’t all glam.
Later that evening, while walking through Times Square, a photographer stopped me and started taking my photo. I smiled. I posed. I let myself be seen.

And then I broke.

Tears welled up.
Right there — in the middle of one of the busiest places in the world — I cried.
Because the day still hurt.
Because I missed who I thought I was supposed to be with.
Because grief doesn’t disappear just because you’re dressed up and wearing gloss.

He didn’t ask questions. He just handed me the photos for free and said:
“It gets better.”

What a moment.

One photo captured the smile.

None of them caught the tears.

But they all held a woman who chose herself.

So if you’re walking through an anniversary, a reminder, or a date that stings — breathe.
You’re still here. You’re still becoming.
You can always choose to

Reframe. Reset. Redesign.

And you might just find magic again, in the most unexpected places.

Note: This story is shared from my personal lens, grounded in my lived experience, reflection, and healing. Names are omitted intentionally. I write to reclaim my voice, not to assign blame or shame.

This space is for truth-telling, growth, and connection — not conflict.

Thank you for witnessing my journey.