Stephen Porges' polyvagal theory, which explains the nervous system's role in safety and connection, gives us a map for the terrain of divorce. The storm you and your partner created has passed, and in the eerie quiet, you look at your children, their small faces smudged with the dust of your conflict, and you tell yourself a story. A necessary story, perhaps. A story that goes something like this: *I will protect them. They will be okay. I can do this without breaking their hearts.* Let’s get one thing straight, right here, right now, in the sacred, messy truth of this moment. That story is a lie. A well-intentioned lie, a lie born of a love so fierce it could split you in two, but a lie nonetheless. You cannot raise children through the dissolution of their family, the tearing apart of their known world, without it touching them. Without it leaving a mark. The ground has split open beneath their feet. To pretend otherwise is the first, and perhaps most damaging, form of spiritual bypassing you can engage in. It’s a denial of what is. And what is, is a wound. > *"This awakening isn't sparkles and chakra lights