Calm After the Waves
Divorce may calm with time, but the ripples never fully disappear. As mums, we watch our children; even grown and married ones, carry the sting of being pushed aside, and our hearts ache with them. This is for every mother holding steady, reminding her children through love and presence that they are enough and they matter.
Divorce doesn’t end when the final order is signed. At the outset it can hit us like a tsunami. In the aftermath of the storm, at first you’re desperately treading water, frantically trying to keep your head above it all. The waves crash, you can barely breathe, and survival is all you think about.
Then, slowly, the sea starts to calm. You spot a shoreline in the distance. You fight your way there, crawl onto the sand, and finally take stock. The storm is over. You start to rebuild. A new life takes shape.
But here’s the truth: even when the tsunami has passed, the water never lies still. The pebble has already been dropped. Ripples keep rolling in. The sands have shifted. And those ripples; sometimes gentle, sometimes harsh, carry the hidden weight of divorce into everyday life, long after everyone else assumes you’ve “moved on.”
The Ripple that Hurts Most
For me, the hardest ripple has been watching my children get pushed aside while their dad builds a new family. A new partner, a new child, a new life. And my daughters left standing on shifting ground, wondering where they fit.
At first, it was small things; a missed Christmas here, a holiday abroad with the new family there. But slowly, the tide has turned. My daughters see where they stand now. He’s no longer the man, the dad, who was their protector, their safe harbour. And I can’t help but wonder: was he ever? Because if someone truly cares, they simply cannot turn their back on their children. From the moment he walked out of the matrimonial home – telling me to my face there was no one else, while secretly spending time in one of his many other entanglements, his energy went into impressing them. His lack of interest and concern for his own children was evident.
Grown Children Still Feel It
When my marriage ended, my daughters were already young adults. Some people think that makes it easier. It doesn’t.
Now they’re married, with lives of their own. And that’s how it should be. The normal, healthy process of children flying the nest means they don’t need us in the same way they did when they were little. They’re building homes, marriages, families, futures, and that’s a joy to watch.
But here’s the thing: independence doesn’t cut the cord. The connection is still there. And even while they’re busy with their daily lives, the pain of a parent not caring still washes in like an unexpected wave. It may not knock them down like it did when they were small, but it leaves a sting, a chill, a reminder of what’s missing.
Because no matter how old we get, we still need to know we matter. We still long for our parents to choose us.
Connection or Crumbs?
When guilt washes over him, their dad does what he’s always done; he offers money. A cheque, a gift. Crumbs.
It looks generous from the outside, but it doesn’t touch what they’re hungry for. Because love can’t be bought. Presence matters.
And children; even grown, married children, can feel the difference like a stone in their shoe.
The Mother’s Ache
As a mum, standing on the shore watching this unfold is brutal. You see your children brace against the ripples, swallowing disappointment, and you want to scream at the other parent: “Wake up! They’re still your kids!”
And I can’t help thinking: what if it were me? What if I chose a new life and put my daughters second? It’s unthinkable. But for too many children, that’s the reality they live with.
Learning to Stand Steady
So what do we do, when the ripples keep coming? We can’t stop the tide. But we can steady the ground beneath our children’s feet.
Let them feel the waves. Don’t rush them to be “okay.” Sadness and anger are part of healing.
Watch for the quiet ones. The “I’m fine” mask often hides the deepest cracks.
Build new anchors. Traditions, routines, little rituals that remind them they belong and they matter.
Be the steady shore. Show up, again and again. Love is consistency, not a grand gesture.
Remind them it’s not their fault. The shifting sands were never theirs to control.
These are small things, but they matter. They give our children something solid to stand on when the ripples hit.
Finally…
The tsunami has passed. The ripples will always come and go, sometimes catching us off guard, sometimes barely felt at all. But even with shifting sands beneath their feet, our children can find calm if they know one thing for certain: there is a shore they can always return to.
That’s what we give them when we show up, when we love without conditions, when we stay steady. The other parent’s choices may sting, but our presence becomes their anchor.
And so, even after the waves, there is calm. A place of safety. A love that cannot be swept away.
To every mum standing steady in the ripples—your love is enough.
Acknowledgement: I know this pain isn’t one-sided. Sometimes it’s women who walk away from their children, or who punish their ex’s family by preventing grandparents and others from seeing them. The ripples of divorce can take many forms, but sadly, they always reach the children.
