I’m trying to be okay with this change, I really am. I’m trying to be happy for them, to believe that they deserve a second chance at love, that new beginnings are a beautiful thing. I’m trying to smile when they talk about wedding plans or future dreams, I’m trying to be present, to connect, and to listen and say all the encouraging things.

But deep down, there’s a knot in my chest I can’t seem to rid myself of.

It’s not that I don’t want them to be happy — it’s just that a part of me feels left behind in the life that fell apart. A part of me is still grieving the family that once was, even if it wasn’t perfect. Even if it needed to end. Even if it was the right decision logically. My heart doesn’t work on logic, God. It grips. It holds on to the past. 

And now, with this new marriage, it feels like another door is closing. Another chapter is ending and I’m still in the middle of the page. There’s another reminder that the life I once knew, the family I once belonged to, isn’t just broken — it’s been rebuilt into something I’m not fully connected to.

God, I don’t know what to do with all these messy-hearted feelings. I don’t know what to do with the sadness. With the resentment. With the guilt for feeling anything other than pure joy for them. I don’t want to be bitter. I don’t want to let jealousy or sadness take away from this moment. But I also don’t want to pretend I’m fine when a part of me is still hurting, when a part of me still aches.

Please hold me here, God. In this disorienting grey area where grief and hope are trying to exist together. Help me to honor these complicated emotions without letting them harden my heart. Help me to find space for all of it inside of myself —the happiness for them, the sadness for me, the nostalgia that is roped to what’s been lost. Help me to understand that all of these feelings can coexist while I move through this journey.

Teach me how to show up with honesty and grace, God. Teach me how to let go of the life I thought we would always have, without losing the pieces of it that shaped me. Teach me that it’s okay to grieve a good thing while still celebrating something new, and hopeful.

God, if I’m being honest, I think this is so difficult because part of me worries about where I fit now. Part of me worries about being forgotten, worries about being replaced. Part of me worries about becoming a visitor within the places that once felt like home.

Please remind me that I am still loved. That my place in their life is not discounted or stamped out by someone new. That even when everything feels unfamiliar, you are the steady place I can always return to.

Thank you for being patient with me while I sort through feelings I don’t always know how to hold. Thank you for understanding the immense, quiet grief that comes with change.

I trust you to hold the parts of me that are still mourning, still adjusting, and still learning how to let go and love at the same time. I trust you to be by my side through this season, God. I trust you to anchor me within this next chapter.