The Quiet After Choosing Myself

And then it hit me
no longer being married
means being alone.

And being alone
means choosing myself.

And choosing myself..
God, it’s beautiful…
but it’s also quiet.

Too quiet sometimes.

Because in the stillness,
there’s nowhere to hide
from the truth I carry…

that if love is ever going to find me again,
I have to let it.

I have to open the very thing
I spent so long trying to rebuild.

A once shattered heart..
in pieces I didn’t know how to hold,
let alone heal.

I just got it beating again.
Soft. Careful. Mine.

And now I’m supposed to…
offer it?

Place it in someone else’s hands
and trust
they won’t hurt it?

I guard it..
not because I don’t believe in love,
but because I finally believe in me.

Because I know what it took
to bring myself back to life.

And still…
there’s this ache.

This quiet, steady ache
to build something with someone.
To laugh in a kitchen that’s ours,
to dream out loud
and not be the only one listening.

To not always walk the line alone.

And some nights,
I find myself there again..
on the floor,
whispering to God,

“Either take this desire from me…
or bring me the one
who can hold it.”

– Heather Dyan Morgan

If you enjoy this, find my podcast “Wandering the Wild Mess” all streaming –

links at http://www.wanderingthewildmess.com

#startingover
#selflovejourney
#healingafterdivorce
#choosingyourself
#emotionalhealing

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About Me

I’m Heather Dyan Morgan, a writer, speaker, and podcast host who left behind everything I knew to start over from scratch.
Literally the definition of wandering the wild mess.

Born and raised in Utah (yes, I grew up Mormon), I walked away from the only life I had ever known—including a good man who simply wasn’t meant for me, and moved to Tennessee with no friends, no family, and no place to call home. I had spent over a decade climbing the corporate ladder, and one day I simply told my boss: “I’m moving. Keep me or don’t.”

A little wild? Maybe. But I’ve always felt like a caged bird waiting to be free.
And once I finally jumped, there was no turning back.

Those early months, bouncing between Airbnbs, navigating heartbreak, identity shifts, and deep solitude, were more than a leap. They were a rebirth.
And somehow, they became the beginning of everything.

Now I share my journey through my podcast (Wandering the Wild Mess), I’m working on an aligned project of digital healing guides, and continue to pour into the written word—because storytelling has always been my way of making sense of the chaos and helping others feel less alone in theirs.

I’ve been writing since I could hold a pencil and asking deep questions since I could form a sentence. I’m endlessly curious about the human experience—how we think, feel, and move through this world. I believe we don’t fail; we just evolve.

I’m here to remind you that it’s okay not to have it all figured out. You’re allowed to grow, grieve, start over, and still be wildly worthy of love and joy.

I enjoy deep conversations, acoustic music, mountain views, and campfire moments that make you feel something. And I believe that if you’re reading this, you’re here for a reason.

Thanks for being part of my wild mess. Let’s wander it together.

And in case no one told you today—you matter