No one just rolls out of bed one morning, stretches, yawns and says, “Right, I think my marriage is done.” At least, not in my book. I believe endings creep in like dust – quiet, subtle and only obvious when the light hits just right.
I come from a background soaked in love… and a fair bit of chaos. My childhood was sweet in the early days – both my parents present, our needs and (most of our) wants met. But as we grew older, the storm clouds rolled in. Their marriage collapsed just as I was stepping into my teenage years, which, if you’ve been around my digital corner for a while, you’ve heard me speak about in passing.
Watching it all unfold, I made a vow: Not me. Not my home. I was going to do things differently. I was going to build the unshakeable.
So there I was in my early twenties, marching down the aisle, sparkly-eyed and full of dreams. I was going to get it right. I would fix what my parents couldn’t. I was the eldest, already familiar with looking after everyone else, so caring for people was my default setting.
I grew up in the kind of Seventh-day Adventist home where “potluck” actually meant my mother cooked for almost the entire congregation. After the church service, the elders, deacons, pastors – and probably a few other congregants and visitors – would follow us home like a holy UberPool. Mom cooked, served, cleaned… then we’d all trot back for the afternoon service, house immaculate.
And while a part of me admired that woman so deeply, another part resented the invisible cape she wore – and made us wear too. That balance of awe and exhaustion stayed with me my entire upbringing and still looms to date.
Naturally, when I entered marriage, I went into full-service mode: apron metaphorically on, soul wide open. I gave. I poured. I denied my own needs because that’s what love is, right? Self-sacrifice. Service. The Word says so! But then life taught me something the verses don’t always say out loud – you just can’t keep pouring from an empty teapot, darling. Not even one with gold trim and the finest porcelain.
True service has to come from overflow, not depletion. To serve well, you need to be well. The empowered empower. The liberated liberate. The well-fed feed.
At some point, my therapist (bless his velvet-gloved honesty) looked me dead in the eye and said, “Reframe, Olwethu. Have you failed, or are you free? Who gets to define the story – you, or the echo of expectations?”
Whew.
I had clung so tightly to the idea of holding it together for the kids, but guess what? Kids grow. They start watching you more than listening to you. They start asking questions. And suddenly, I ran out of “baby.”
That’s when I realised I had been serving from fumes. I wasn’t creating a family rooted in intention – I was performing one. Not because I didn’t love, but because I hadn’t yet learned how to love myself, for myself.
Now don’t get it twisted – there were glorious moments. We built a life, a home, a rhythm. We created memories that will live forever in the hearts of our children and in the warm halls of my own. There were years of beauty, laughter, soft Sundays in pyjamas and beautiful random weekday movie nights.
But growth has a sneaky way of bringing both clarity and courage. And with courage comes questioning. I started asking: Was I showing up in love or simply clocking in for duty? Was this performative?
Duty isn’t inherently bad – but it’s incomplete without joy, self-awareness, and mutual nourishment. I hadn’t done the inner work. I hadn’t quote figured out how I needed to be loved. I didn’t even know how to ask.
Looking back, I can say this without hesitation: I had the perfect husband for the girl I was then. There was stability, safety, structure. And I will always be thankful for that chapter.
But then I ran out of baby. And this new woman – the wiser, sassier, slightly more moisturised version of me needed to find herself. And completely lean into her.
Some women find themselves within marriage. Some of us don’t. We need to step back and heal. When the children no longer need nappies and you can’t hide behind bedtime routines, packed lunchboxes or chasing down little people for bathtime, you’re left with one essential question: Who am I when I’m not serving everyone else?
And let me tell you, for a group of women who are always finding things – shoes, socks, misplaced homework – we moms are surprisingly bad at finding ourselves.
But when we do? Oh, the magic. I love that my kids get to get this fuller and more fulfilled version of me.
This journey of rediscovery may just be my greatest accomplishment. I may have run out of baby – but I didn’t run out of me. I’ve run to me and she’s amazing!
And that, my friend, is the very definition of being self-full. 💛
I hate that we have to feel the pain before the storm passes. But we truly find ourselves when it’s quiet.
Love this and hoping that it is a glimpse of a book please Olwethu.
I would buy this book in a blink of an eye cause ma’am yes! Oh yes!!
Beautiful piece and beautifully written
This was such a beautiful read. I’d buy the book and finish it in a day.
I just bumped into this page
This is such an insightful read.
Thank you for sharing, it’s amazing how one sees pieces of their own life from other’s stories.
Loved this so much, a lot of us are still unaware of how much we need to find ourselves…
Wow! This was so beautiful to read. You’ve given us women a whole new perspective in how to approach and look at the ending of a marriage. It should not be death but more rebirth. Most times we grieve the end of a marriage because there’s a sense of loss that is felt, loss of everything you’ve built together with your husband, the family you’ve created into this world, the home you’ve built and created together but when you look at everything, the true question is, does happiness lie in that home?
So proud of you my friend. I wish you all the best on this beautiful journey you are on.
What a beautiful read!! Also what a timely reminder that endings are beginnings. I think we get too caught up in how daunting a setting sun can be! And even in the night of things, it gets so easy easy to forget the light. The self. That in the day that follows, we are sun. We are rising.
Thank you for using your own experience in this way, to remind us that endings usher us into who we aught to be. Dawn.
And with each ending, may you, Olwethu, be unwavering in your resoluteness that beckons new dawns.
Beautiful Olwethu, just beautiful … we need/want a book!! Stunning … goose bumps. I so love and admire how you live your life … and share and inspire others to be better people. For ourselves first and then for others.
Loved this.
Yhoo Olwethu! So much Power in your voice. What a time to be alive when we as Women of the 21st Century. I am so proud of you for taking care of SELF sana. Continue to preserve SELF!!!
You broke your silence is such Grace, softness and yet so much courage. May your journey be filled with peace, blessings and joy. I love you MaDlomo.
“We moms are bad at finding ourselves…”
I really navigated so far through the jungle to meet with my lost soul.
What a thought probe
Thanks so much for sharing your journey with us. I do relate with you so much, not from a point of marriage but from a near-marriage situation that broke me beyond measure – I was a new mom at the time during Covid.
I am more motivated to share my journey, I think my story too will help someone as much as yours has helped me.
Enkosi!
Samu! Your situation sounds like mine. I’m sometimes still struggling to let go & in the process, I’ve messed up tremendously. I would really love to get to my own dawn. Let’s connect if you don’t mind, @isthatall_yours on instagram.
Wow 😍🔥🥵
Wow🥹🥹🥹
Such a beautiful read. Thank you for sharing this Olwethu… endings can truly be the most beautiful beginnings
Im out of words, i loved reading every word in this piece of writing but found myself so overwhelmed 🥹🥹.
This is so absolutely warm and beautifully written. It is honest without being boisterous. It is definitive without being rigid. It starts a new chapter of self discovery that we all have felt (or will feel!). You are many women. You are me. I understood myself a little deeper after reading this. Thank you.
Beautiful, such a beautiful read.😍
My concomitancy to this piece is deepened by the fact that I’ve lived through some things as a “jita”… My understanding of certain elements would have been pale in my formative years. Thank you for your well structured vulnerability.
I must confess, as a father, I came here expecting to read about how you’re dealing with the growth of your kids and them needing less of you since it was Maliks birthday just the other day — “I’ve run out of baby” — but the body of words took me to another place.
Enkosi.
This is well articulated and thoughtfully expressed. Every word feels like it’s stemmed in introspect. Thank you for your vulnerability.
Sending you bucket loads of love💛💛💛.
You were, are, and will always be my hero. Finding yourself is a lifelong journey – well done on this leg of it.
This is beautifully written. I found myself in some of the words and it’s a kind reminder that I should continue ‘worrying about myself’ just as I am concerned with others. Oh how we easily forget ourselves with all these hats we wear 🙁
Oh my goodness, enjoyed reading this so much. Happy for your new journey of healing and self love.
God bless your new journey ❤️. Thank you for this 🥹
Oh MaDlomo! This was such a beautiful read. Forces one into a self-reflection mode.
Dear Olwethu,
I am writing this with a grateful heart. Infinite gratitude for how beautifully you have written the above, and how much I resonate with it.
From one mommy that has been ridden with so much guilt for actually choosing myself – FINALLY!
Thank you for penning this with conviction, the very conviction that I myself needed in order to see that I have harmed no one by choosing myself.
Subtle signs from the universe – and this is definitely one for me.
Wow, I thought I was writing this feed it’s so extremely overwhelming how similar this story is and how it hits home(heart) thank you Olwethu, I too am Seventh Day Adventist and having to do and be the most regardless of fatigue and depression. Thank you for your motivation, God bless you and those who are reaching out to you 🙏
I loved reading this. When are you dropping the book?
Apply enough pressure – I might🥹