11/02/2026
14 Years Ago Today, Two Broken People Met.
He’s English, I’m Kenyan Indian.
He had three children, I had four.
He was healing from a broken marriage, so was I.
He came with uncertainty, I came with fear.
It was love at first sight for him. For me? It took nearly two years to even trust that what I felt was real love.
Two years to stop running from the possibility that happiness could find me again.
Here’s what nobody tells you when your marriage ends: the questions don’t end with the divorce papers, they follow you everywhere. What did I do wrong? What should I have done differently? Why couldn’t I make it work?
I carried those questions like stones in my pockets, heavy, constant, unanswerable.
Because the truth is, sometimes the answers aren’t with you. Sometimes they belong to someone else’s journey, and your only job is to stop asking their questions and start asking your own.
The question that changed everything for me was: Do I have permission to choose happiness, even if it means starting again?
This isn’t a fairy tale post, this is real life.
Blending two cultures. The spices of Gujarati meeting the Sunday roasts of England. Navigating seven children’s lives, hearts, histories. Learning each other’s languages, not just words, but the languages of love, conflict, healing, and forgiveness. Building trust when both of us had every reason to protect our hearts instead of opening them.
Some people ask: “How do you adjust when you meet someone later in life? When you both have established ways of being?” The answer? You don’t just adjust. You choose, and choice becomes your daily mantra.
Here’s the difference I’ve learned between the adjustments that heal you and the ones that hollow you out. With the wrong person, adjusting means disappearing. With the right person, adjusting means becoming. With the wrong person, you shrink to fit their expectations. With the right person, you expand into your truth together.
There is no single formula for anyone’s journey, and your path won’t look like mine. Your timing won’t match someone else’s. Your healing will have its own rhythm. But this I know to be true!
You deserve to be somewhere you are loved.
You deserve to be with someone you love. You deserve to be wanted, not tolerated. You deserve to be a first choice, not a backup plan.
If you’re sitting on the boundary right now, wondering if happiness is even possible, if you’re too old, if it’s too late, if no one will understand your complexity, your children, your history… Please hear me when I say-These are just fears.
Fears we absorb when we’re young.
Fears that tell us this isn’t possible, that can’t happen, that we should settle, that we should stay. The truth is everything is possible when you find yourself first.
Not perfection. Not certainty. Just yourself. Your clarity. Your worth. Your non-negotiables. Your capacity to love and be loved without losing yourself in the process.
I look at Paul today, 14 years later and I see someone who has held space for my healing, my culture, my children, my complexity. Someone who didn’t need me to be less Indian to love me. Someone who didn’t need me to erase my past to build a future with me, and I hope I’ve done the same for him.
This is not perfection. This is two people who knew brokenness and chose, daily, to build something whole together.
“In the midst of change and chaos, you have the power to reinvent yourself and create a future filled with happiness.”
“The end of a marriage is a comma, not a full stop in your life.”
So here’s to 14 years 🥂
Here’s to second chances that feel like first loves. Here’s to cultural fusion and Sunday curries and teaching seven children that love is expansive, not limited. Here’s to everyone still sitting on that boundary, wondering if they deserve more. You do.
And when you’re ready to choose yourself, to choose truth over comfort, to choose possibility over fear, Your happiness is waiting.
With all my love and celebration, Wellness With Kajal