Between Breaking and Holding On !!!!

 Last week, my heart felt heavier than usual.

The news was hard to ignore. 

A prominent Virginian had shot his wife and then taken his own life. 

Their teenage children were in the house. 

I remember pausing, unable to move past the headline. Not because it was unfamiliar — we hear stories like these far too often — but because something about it settled deep within me. Maybe it was the children. Maybe it was the silence that must have followed.

And then, quietly, my mind wandered.

I want you to meet the man behind the scenes.

Not the one in the headlines. But the one I know — the one I built a life with.

When we met, we were young and, if I’m being honest, a little foolish. We didn’t have all the answers. We didn’t even have most of the questions figured out. We had our differences, our share of arguments, our ups and downs that sometimes felt bigger than us. There were moments when walking away might have seemed easier.

But we didn’t.

We stayed.

Not because everything was perfect, but because somewhere in the chaos, we chose to figure it out. Again and again.

We had no village. No backup plan. No one stepping in to carry the weight when things got heavy. It was just the two of us, navigating adulthood, marriage, and parenthood all at once — learning as we went, failing sometimes, growing often.

And then there were our children.

Three beautiful souls we had created together.

When it came to them, something shifted. Whatever disagreements we had, whatever storms we were weathering, we found our way back to the same page. Not always easily, not always gracefully, but intentionally.

Because they deserved that.

They deserved stability, even when we felt unsteady.
They deserved love, even on the days we were struggling to understand each other.
They deserved two people who, despite everything, chose to stay present.

But I also want to say this — gently, and with honesty.

Not every story is meant to be held together.

Sometimes the bravest, safest, and most loving choice is to walk away. There are circumstances shaped by pain, by fear, by harm — where staying is not strength, but risk. Where silence protects no one. Where choosing distance is the only way to protect yourself, and sometimes your children.

So this is not a story that says “stay no matter what.”

It is a story about choice — the kind that is rooted in safety, respect, and the willingness to keep trying when both people are able to.

That’s what stayed with me after reading that news story.

Not judgment. Not assumptions.

Just a quiet, aching realization of how thin the line can be between holding it together and falling apart.

Because behind every closed door, there are stories we don’t see. Struggles we don’t hear. Battles fought in silence.

And yet, there are also choices.

To pause instead of react.
To seek help instead of withdrawing.
To stay, to talk, to try — even when it feels impossibly hard.

We were not perfect. We are still not perfect.

But we chose to keep showing up.

For each other.
For our children.
For the life we were building, one imperfect day at a time.

And maybe that is what I hold onto the most — not the absence of struggle, but the presence of effort.

Because sometimes, the difference between a story that breaks us and one that builds us… is simply the decision to keep trying.

Before I close, I want to say this clearly — these are simply my ramblings, my personal thoughts and reflections. I am not advocating for any one choice or path. Every relationship, every family, every circumstance is different. Please do what feels right, safe, and true for you and your situation.

If you’re reading this, I leave you with a gentle question —

In the middle of life’s hardest moments, what are we choosing to hold onto… and what are we willing to reach out for?