Today would have been my 13th wedding anniversary. Instead I went on a first date last night that went okay. It’d be a happier ending to say it went fantastic as if it’s a new beginning. But it’s probably not and that’s okay, too.

I have a flame ignited in me today that makes me realize just how dead I was inside during my marriage. Like a complete flatline. If you would have taken me to the hospital, there would have been no life saving measures; no paddles, no urgency, no electrodes. I may have even presented as nothing more than a pile of dust.

What’s worse is that I normalized that feeling – “this must be what marriage is like” – was a repetitive soundtrack that played in my head.

It really killed my creativity; I stopped imagining our marriage could be anything different. It felt like a box I had to settle into but no matter what corner I found myself in, I couldn’t get comfortable. I felt like I came with a garden and left with a cemetery. Morbid, I know.

I look at love so differently now and while I’m less interested in dissecting what was missing from my marriage and why, I will say that the experience as a whole – complete with the exploration that’s come post-divorce – has taught me the following:

I want a partner who reminds me of my power; not a partner who wants me to exist under a label and fit into a box. I want a partner who sees my wild femininity and allows it, embraces it, and is seduced by it. I want a partner who recognizes my individuality; a partner who can truly see ME beyond what I bring to them or how I make them feel about themselves. And I want radical honesty, where feelings – even when they bring conflict – are always welcome and always seen as an invitation for connection. I want freedom to be, the freedom to have been, and the freedom to become.

The day we got married there were fires raging in what felt like all directions. It was triple digit heat and horrible air quality. I think now about all the times the universe knew before I did and the patience the universe grants us to figure it out on our own. What a blessing.

Some things are meant to go up in flames.