A Spark of Power

Solar Plexus and Divorce

I was thirty-six and getting divorced. I had lived a sheltered life as a Mormon wife and mother. I didn’t work and had only a high school degree.

One day, a neighbor came over and told me that her husband worked with mine—and had seen my husband making out with another woman at work. I want to preface this by saying that for many years he was (and is) a good man and a wonderful father. And, the rumor was, that he was having an affair.

I thanked her, closed the door, and fell to the floor sobbing. My kids came home from school, and thank goodness I could hold it together for a moment, just long enough to send them to the neighbors for a few hours.

In that moment, everything inside me crumbled. I felt not good enough, not physically, not emotionally, not sexually, not spiritually. I was overweight, ashamed, and convinced that I wasn’t a good enough wife, mother, or even human being.

The six months leading up to that day had already been unraveling. He’d become angrier—at me, at the kids—even leaning over them in a corner, yelling. He spent more and more time out after work. I had begun to have acid reflux that eventually burned a hole in my esophagus; I needed surgery. I always had a headache, and my fibromyalgia was confining me. I was living in a body that mirrored my pain.

When I was alone, I felt utterly empty. When I was around others, I could manage, but inside I was deeply depressed. My doctor put me on antidepressants, which helped a little. My sister and nephew came to live with me for a while about a year after her husband died. After a few months, she met a man online and they began talking on the phone. They eventually married, but all of this was happening during the time my husband left, and it felt especially lonely. Thankfully, I had three close friends, amazing women from my old neighborhood, in Lehi. One lived right across the street in Eagle Mountain, and our kids played together. We’d talk and play cards, and those moments were my lifeline.

The Breakdown Through the Chakras

This kind of life-altering event shakes every part of you. Speaking in chakras, this experience touched all of mine:

Root: I was alone and didn’t feel safe.

Sacral: I was an emotional mess and completely unstable.

Solar Plexus: I was full of shame and couldn’t make decisions. My personal power was gone.

Heart: I felt unloved, jealous, and heavy with grief.

Throat: I hid. I couldn’t speak without becoming a blubbering mess.

Third Eye: I didn’t trust my intuition anymore. I once felt connected to something higher, but that connection was gone.

Crown: I was fatigued, full of headaches, and obsessing over what he had been doing and for how long.

This is only a glimpse of how broken my energy and body were.

Falling Apart

In my devastation, I became stuck and unable to move forward. Sometimes it felt like I couldn’t breathe. I spent hours crying, grieving the loss of love (even though we had been drifting apart for some time, when I learned of the affair, it all became brand new again), the loss of our family home, and the loss of myself.

The shame overwhelmed me. I felt responsible for not keeping my family together, and the deepest pain was losing him, the man I had loved, the happy life I thought we had, as the small family of a mom, dad, and two little boys.

Within a week of finding out, he came to the house—and in his car sat the woman he’d been seeing. I could see her. It hurt and It burned through me.

The boys and I eventually received some financial and physical help and moved into a small apartment. I kept the doors locked and the windows covered. I was afraid, afraid to be seen, to be hurt again. Sometimes, being alone with my pain, grief, and anger was unbearable.

At some point, though, anger became my lifeline. I realized it wasn’t me who had broken the marriage. That truth helped me take my first breath again. I began seeing a therapist and started sorting through the wreckage.

He had left almost everything behind, boxes of magazines, electrical parts—like physical proof of his absence. I kept asking myself: Why did he leave all of this but take the good parts of him?

I didn’t know how I would make money, how to be a single parent, or even if I was strong enough. The feeling of “not good enough” followed me everywhere.

A Spark of Power

During this time, I went for a lymphatic massage to help with swelling and stress. What I didn’t realize then was that it was also moving energy. During that session, the therapist looked into my eyes and said,

“This is what you should do for a living.”

I was stunned. Me? A massage therapist?

Driving home, something shifted. I made a decision, I would call and enroll. I did, and I started the next week. This began an amazing life I could never have imagined.

Massage school was like a splash of cold water to the face. I woke up. I became aware of people, of the world, of possibility. I met two new friends. Jo, a college-educated, smart, confident, and funny lady. She showed me how to live powerfully and laugh out loud again. Shannon, a kind, smart and like minded spirit, who continued to be a light and powerful influence for quite some time. For the first time, I felt smart. I loved learning anatomy, physiology, pathology, and energy work. My self-worth began to grow. I found tai chi and qi gong and felt the energy and release of pent up feelings in my body. My Solar Plexus, the center of personal power, started to heal. I began to feel capable, worthy, and strong.

Reclaiming My Voice

My ex-husband and I met at a gas station to exchange the kids. He yelled about everything, every single time. For a long while, I swallowed the anger and shame. But one day, I found my courage.

I told him he had no right to yell at me.We were not married anymore.I had grown.

And when he tried again, I stood firm. Eventually he stopped.

That was a defining moment. My voice returned.

Rising

I got a job at Dillard’s in the home goods department. I was earning my own money for the first time in years. I felt proud. Working and going to school was exhausting and exhilarating.

I began questioning my church. The teachings no longer fit with the person I was becoming. I met with the Mormon bishop and explained this to him. He listened and told me it was okay, I was on a road of discovery. He ended by saying,

“Bobbie, you will make a difference with hundreds of women, with or without this gospel.” (Through my massage practice, teaching and being attentive to others, I have.)

I was expanding, emotionally, spiritually, and intellectually. I was fascinated by other cultures and spiritual paths.

In massage school, I dove deeper into energy work and the human spirit. I witnessed people’s raw moments of emotional release and healing. I felt honored and alive.

I graduated and found my first position at a place called Natural Beginnings—a health food store in Alpine, Utah, with space for yoga, massage, and acupuncture. It was the perfect environment to step into my power.

I filled my practice quickly and felt both loved and successful. For the first time in years, I was living from my own light.

Reflection

Looking back, that painful chapter cracked me open. Divorce broke my life apart, but it also broke me free.

The Solar Plexus—the center of self-worth and confidence—was once buried in shame. Through courage, education, work, and healing, I reclaimed it.

I learned that power doesn’t come from someone else loving you. It comes from loving yourself enough to rise.

In Joy, Bobbie

Questions for reflections

1. When have you felt your personal power dim or disappear? What helped you begin to reclaim it?

2. What does “loving yourself enough to rise” mean to you right now?

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