When "Just Google It" Isn't Enough: The Emotional Toll of Divorce and the Courage to Ask for Help

Sometimes, reality hits harder than expected.

Yesterday was one of those days.

For the past 19 months, I’ve shared my #DivorceJourney. Not for pity. Not for attention. But to create change. To push for policy reform. To provide resources. And most of all — to let other military spouses know they aren’t alone.

I’ve poured every ounce of my story into helping others because I know what it’s like to feel invisible in a system built to overlook us. I know the ache of being dismissed, the exhaustion of explaining yourself, and the weight of carrying it all without breaking.

Like many, I turned to Facebook groups — safe spaces, I thought — to connect with others who’ve walked this path. And over time, I’ve become someone others reach out to: to talk, to cry, to vent, to ask, “What do I do next?”

And I always show up… even when my own heart is heavy.

But yesterday, a comment in one of those groups shattered me.

Someone replied to a struggling spouse with:“Stop telling them to use JAG. Have them Google that shit.”

That one sentence knocked the wind out of me.

Yes, you can Google it. But when you're drowning, you don’t need Google — you need a lifeline. You need a voice that says, “I’ve been there. Here’s how I survived it.” You need warmth. You need humanity. You need community. Not condescension.

I stepped away from my screen and cried. Not quiet, contained tears. The kind that erupt from a place deeper than words. The kind you hope no one sees — but that, in truth, someone needs to hear about.

Because behind every “strong” post, behind every advocacy push and polished resource, is still a woman sitting on hold with DFAS. A woman watching the clock tick, waiting to find out when her retirement will be split. Wondering when the next blow will come. Wondering if peace is just a myth.

This is the part we don’t talk about enough. The grief that lingers long after the court dates are over. The emotional wreckage that no policy or pamphlet can fully prepare you for. The loneliness of having to explain — over and over — why you still care, why you still hurt, why it still matters.

We say the word resilience like it’s easy. Like it’s automatic.But resilience doesn’t mean you're unbreakable. It means you show up, cracks and all, and keep moving anyway.

So no, I won’t stop telling people to ask for help.No, I won’t stop responding with resources and real answers.And no, I won’t be silent just because some think it’s easier to “Google it.”

Because if one more military spouse feels seen…If one more woman wipes her tears and says, “Me too”…Then this heartbreak has purpose.

To those in the trenches right now:I see you.I honor you.And I will always stand with you.

This is my truth.And maybe — just maybe — it’ll help someone else feel less alone.