Whatever you’re going through right now, I have no doubt that it totally sucks. How do I know? I’ve been there.

Seven years ago, I experienced a devastating miscarriage that left me too afraid to try to have children again. Two years later, my marriage collapsed. Then, a year after that, I got fired from my job at a major television network, a position I had dreamed about since I was a kid.

And then, three years ago, I left the United States, seeking emotional refuge in Spain, a country where I had no friends or family and didn’t even speak the language. Foolishly, I thought that a change in geography could fix everything. Not the best move.

Today, I can admit that I’m not okay.

I lost everything I thought would define me: motherhood, marriage, career. And once in Spain, I plunged into a darkness so profound that, for a brief moment, I considered doing the unthinkable. 

But then I heard her, my inner voice telling me my story wasn’t meant to end that way. You know that voice, the one inside of you. The one telling you to get off your ass and back into the game. The voice we’ll call Intuition.

She’s the one that tugs at you quietly when you’re lying alone crying in bed. You’re going to be okay.

She’s the one who makes you pause before you order that third glass of chardonnay. Numbing the pain now will only make you feel worse tomorrow. 

She’s the one that fights for you when he’s yelling obscenities because you were a few minutes late. You deserve better than this.

She’s the one who drops a hint — you have something to say. Write. You know you’re capable of doing so much more. 

But do you listen to her? I didn’t. At least not for a long while.

First, I spent a lot of time making Self-pity my best friend. And Self-pity loved to hang out with Shame and Self-doubt. Together the four of us would bully Intuition into quiet submission. We’d make up excuses for our bad behavior and rationalize that Intuition didn’t know what she was talking about. If she had, would we all be in this situation? Nope. She wasn’t to be trusted.

I grieved and ugly cried every day for what felt like years. I drank bottles of wine alone at least three or four times a week. I met someone as broken as I was who served up the pain I thought I deserved for ruining everything that came before. In this abusive relationship, I succumbed to Fear and convinced myself I’d never be happy or successful again.

Then, remarkably, the world stopped for months. There was nothing to do except sit still and listen. Very faintly, I felt a vibration within. Intuition wasn’t playing around anymore. She was screaming and banging on the walls, ringing a bell so loudly that I had no choice but to answer her call. She showed up with Anger, who had no patience for Self-pity. Anger demanded to know…who was this person that I had become? Get up. Get up. Get UP.

I finally did.

But I started slowly. One small change at a time until I trusted my footing. Then, I had to do the hard work. I had to examine myself honestly but with compassion. I stumbled a bit, but I never quit searching for hope. And once I found it, I learned how to ask for help. I prayed and found the strength to tell the woman in the mirror, “I forgive you.” Only then could I fully welcome Intuition back into my life.

Now, I listen to her and honor her. She is the part of me I ignored for far too long.

But don’t get me wrong. The show erosion of my former life still haunts me sometimes. I can see glimpses of it hidden under the bed and behind closet doors — the wedding album I won’t throw away; the designer handbag I bought when I earned that promotion; the tear-stained fleece blanket I curled into when I realized her heart was no longer beating inside of me.

These tangible reminders of distinct moments in my life still carry a lot of pain. But they also represent who I was and had planned to be. They are a part of my history, and my inner voice tells me my experiences are worth sharing.

But don’t do what I did. Don’t wait too long to start trusting your Intuition. Sure, the process takes time. Nothing will ever be the same. But, perhaps, if you open yourself to the possibility that your change is actually an evolution, you’ll find yourself on an unexpectedly joyful path.

How do I know? Because I’ve been there, and now I can tell you that I’m not okay. I’m better than okay.

I’m finally happy.