Growing up I always thought that the perfect idea of a family was having both of your parents together and that no matter what you went through, you never give up on marriage.

My parents had a short courtship, and had me right away. Six years later my brother Max came into the world and brought me so much joy.

I was 11 and Max had just turned 6 when my world flipped upside down. He was too young to fully understand what was happening but I understood. I became a young woman whose only purpose in the world was to protect my brother because everything around me was collapsing. Suddenly, I wasn’t a regular kid anymore, I had new responsibilities and a change in personality.

Life wasn’t perfect before the divorce, but nobody's life is ever perfect. My parents argued frequently but for the most part we were a happy family, or at least I thought.

The last night my parents spent together confirmed that the separation was final. The divorce itself took three years to finalize. In that time, my parents went to court 8 times, I was diagnosed with depression and severe anxiety, put in therapy, and met around 30 psychiatrists that did nothing but try to solve my problems with pills.

I was a popular girl at school before the seperation. I played basketball, joined choir, was on the honor roll, and had positive referrals from multiple teachers. My friends noticed things were off. I had completely changed. I distanced myself from them because I was angry that their  families were still together. I was angry at God for doing this to me. My grades dropped immensely, I had no motivation, and I was becoming rude and disrespectful. At one point, my principal had me sign an attendance agreement and my anxiety made it hard for me to focus. I was constantly fidgeting or tapping my pencil and was no longer this cheerful and optimistic little girl.

My goals were no longer like my classmates. All the immature things they liked to do I hated and found ridiculous. I had bigger problems to worry about, such as getting through the day, and later on, the night. I felt so out of place.

After the divorced was finalized I had a mental breakthrough. I cried tears of joy for hours. I could finally breathe again and for a moment I had relief. My parents were not together anymore, and I was able to finally recognize that God hadn’t done this to me, but he had done this for me.

I still fantasize about having my family together because obviously having both your parents in the same home is ideal, but then I think about how much worse it would’ve been if they had stayed together just for us.

One day, my mom told me that sometimes letting go hurts less than holding on. It has become my life’s motto.

My anxiety and depression are now managed and though they may never go away, I know that it’s also there to protect me. It reminds me that I thought I was experiencing the end of the world, yet still made it out alive. I can get up and keep fighting for my future.

My parents are happily co-parenting now, and have never stopped loving us. We have new traditions, new celebrations, and different experiences with each of our parents. And though it isn’t the traditional form, we are a happy family. But most importantly I now know that God wasn’t trying to hurt me, he just wanted all of us to be happy. Together or not my parents will love Max and I forever, they did their best, and their best included separating. That ended up being one of the hardest things to go through but with a great reward - our family’s happiness.

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