Anyone who divorces or becomes widowed must begin again. Yes, we build on the foundation we already have. But in a real sense, change is forced on us. And whether we like it or not, eventually we must adapt.

Change comes in many forms:

• Where we live and with whom,
• How we adjust our financial picture to fit our new circumstances,
• Who we spend our time with,
• When we make decisions that point us in new directions.

We have a choice about how we think about these life transitions: we can meet them passively, or we can take charge. In my experience, the healthier way (both mentally and physically) is to anticipate, plan, and act.

Starting over sounds terrifying until you realize the alternative is continuing an old story that needs a new ending. Jane Fonda said it well: It’s never too late to be happy.

Reimagining our lives can be thrilling if we permit ourselves to dream big. There is an epiphany waiting to be discovered: You get to decide who you are now, and who you want to be when you grow up!

Three Ways to Unhook from Your Past

When I divorced after 24 years of marriage (and yes, I saw it coming many years before), I experienced a sense of relief and lightness. That’s not true for everyone, but for me, ending a relationship that did not serve me freed me up to define life on my own terms.

Here are three dramatic ways I became untethered from my past:

• Moving: I lived in Texas for 35 years, including during my marriage. While going through my divorce, I began to visualize making a clean break to put Texas in the rear-view mirror. I needed a brand-new destination to look forward to. But in deciding to leave a place where I arrived right after college and lived my whole adulthood meant putting a chainsaw on all the roots that gave me a stable foundation. Once I got over my fear, I threw caution to the wind and went big, choosing the east coast as my new home. For me, it was New York City or bust!

• Embracing the unknown: Even though it was a mammoth culture shock, the move to New York gave me a chance to test my wings in the biggest way possible. Everything from lifestyle, to customs, to the expense, to finding new friends was daunting. I had to change my daily routine, my habits, even my wardrobe, and build new connections all at the same time. As challenging as these obstacles were, mastering them was also the first step towards my re-invention. My past was just that – in the past. I became a new version of myself.

• Capitalizing on the old to usher in the new: When I left Texas, I also left behind the professional work in higher education that was my career. I said goodbye to my community involvement and my many connections in a place where I had influence and name recognition. But I quickly realized those credentials were still mine and allowed me to walk through new doors. I started my own nonprofit consulting business and leveraged my existing relationships to build new ones. There were predictable stops and starts, but mostly it was full steam ahead. My past was on my resume — I was now living the future.

Why Saying Goodbye isn’t as Challenging as You Might Fear

Think of it this way: making big changes proactively means you aren’t bringing your old life’s luggage on your new life’s adventure. By letting go, you eliminate emotional baggage and dragging around a virtual suitcase of things that no longer fit the new you.

• You’re in the driver’s seat, calling the shots on how you leave, when you leave, and what you say to explain why you’re going. That’s empowering!
• It’s exciting to go somewhere new. If the memories of your former life felt heavy, changing things up can feel positively exhilarating. And going a long distance away created helpful boundaries to take full advantage of the new life and the new view.
• You can always go back to visit. I discovered that once I had moved on (both figuratively and literally), my thoughts didn’t toggle between the old and the new. I shed the skin I wore before. And even which I visited Texas, I returned as a resident of New York. I had an Empire state of mind. New York was now home.

I’d love to hear your second chapter adventures. write to me at kate@katesomerset.com.