Roses in the Tree
Finding Beauty in the Invasion of Change
I look out my fourth-floor bedroom window and see something strange: a riot of pink roses blooming from the top of my neighbor’s tree. They aren’t his roses. They’re mine—part of a once-contained bush in my yard that’s slowly, invasively, climbed its way into new territory. My mother used to keep the bush trimmed and contained. She hasn’t been here since Covid.
Without her careful hands, the rose bush took on a life of its own.
And now? It’s magnificent. Unexpected. Wildly beautiful.
Sometimes, invasive things can bring surprising gifts.
When Everything Fell Apart
When my husband told me he wanted a divorce, I wasn’t thinking everything would come up roses. My entire world—and my children’s—was thrown into chaos.
My daughter, who had been living in our city house since graduating college, suddenly had a roommate: me. She wasn’t thrilled.
My son, unsure of where he’d go when he came home for the holidays, felt unmoored.
My other daughter was trying to navigate her own relationships with both parents while dealing with the ripple effects of ours ending.
I had to give up my teaching job because the commute no longer made sense.
My dogs—who’d once roamed freely in the enclosed yard—were now back on leashes.
Everything that once felt solid had shifted.
But Then We Grew
Like the roses climbing higher and higher, change kept unfolding—unexpectedly, organically, even beautifully.
My daughter realized she actually liked having a lively, supportive housemate.
My son grew closer to me than ever before.
My other daughter discovered where her truest support system really lay.
It wasn’t easy. It’s still not easy. Change never is. But we’ve all become stronger in ways we couldn’t have imagined.
The Emotional Glow-Up
In the process, I’ve learned how to communicate more clearly. I’ve stopped suppressing my feelings and started giving them space. I’ve let my needs matter.
Friends came out of the woodwork offering support, love, and laughter.
I began to notice things I had long overlooked.
I opened myself to new relationships and new possibilities.
I’m finally learning to trust my instincts.
I’ve taken on our finances—something I never had to do before—and realized I’m fully capable.
I’ve started imagining how I want the house to look and feel now that it’s mine. Not his. Mine.
I’m learning to be flexible in a whole new way. And honestly? I kind of love the woman emerging from all this.
A Whole New View
The invasive nature of divorce touches everything. It alters the shape of your life, your family, your routines, your identity. But sometimes, from the chaos, something beautiful climbs its way into view.
I have a new perspective. An unexpected one. The me I used to be is re-emerging—but wiser, more grounded, and finally choosing herself.
What About You?
Have you grown rigid in ways that might not be serving you?
Have you lost sight of what truly matters to you?
Are you still trying to fit in, to accommodate, to keep the peace—at the cost of your own joy?
Let the wild roses bloom. Let change climb into places it was never "supposed" to be. You might be surprised by what grows.