Clarity Over Noise
One of the most important lessons I’ve learned post-divorce is the difference between information and influence. Information helps you make decisions. Influence, when driven by fear or urgency, is often intended to narrow your options rather than clarify them.
No one can predict, with certainty, how things will unfold. When someone speaks in absolutes about unknowable outcomes, it’s rarely about clarity. It’s about control. And I am no longer afraid of losing control. Nor do I desire to have control over things that are beyond me.
There was a time in my life when certain conversations could completely destabilize me. Those were times when strong opinions were presented as facts, hypothetical outcomes were framed as inevitable, and urgency was used to push decisions before I felt grounded or ready. I didn’t always recognize the manipulation that was at play in the moment, I only felt the anxiety it created.
What I recognize now is how much I’ve grown. Earlier versions of me would have internalized the fear. I would have questioned my judgment, searched for reassurance, and tried to reason my way out of discomfort, often at the expense of my own clarity. And sometimes bubbling into full-blown anxiety attacks. I accepted emotional intensity as truth, and pressure for certainty, even when I knew in my heart and mind it wasn’t right.
I don’t do that anymore.
One of the most meaningful shifts in my healing has been learning to sit with uncertainty without trying to control it. I have realized that I don’t need definitive answers about how things might unfold in order to make thoughtful, values-aligned decisions in the present.
Let me repeat… No one can predict outcomes with certainty, especially in complex, emotionally charged situations. When people speak in absolutes about the future, it often says more about their need for control than about what’s actually knowable.
These days my focus is steadier and simpler.
I am preparing mentally, emotionally, strategically and practically for the next chapter of my life. That preparation includes being intentional about where I place my energy, what conversations I engage in, and when silence is the most responsible response.
I’m not driven by punishment or retribution, even when those emotions would be understandable. I’m driven by sustainability, financial responsibility and choices that allow space for stability and healing—not just for me, but for my family as a whole.
That doesn’t mean I avoid difficult decisions. It means I refuse to make them under pressure or fear.
I understand the cost of prolonged conflict can be emotionally, financially, and relationally taxing. I also understand the cost of abandoning myself in order to make a situation “easier.” I’ve paid that price before, and I’m no longer willing to pay it again.
What I value now is clarity over chaos. Thoughtfulness over urgency. Discernment over reaction.
Growth doesn’t always look like confrontation. Sometimes it looks like quiet confidence. Sometimes it looks like restraint. And sometimes it looks like trusting yourself enough to stop engaging in conversations that only exist to pull you off center.
That, for me, has been the most powerful shift of all. I am calm. I am clear. And I am paying attention.
If you’re navigating a situation where confusion is being used as leverage, I hope this serves as a reminder: you are allowed to pause. You are allowed to seek counsel. You are allowed to step back and observe before responding. And most importantly, you are allowed to stop negotiating with people who benefit from your confusion.
Sometimes, the most strategic move you can make is simply refusing to step back into the tornado.
