How Losing Everything Helped Me Find Myself.
Hi Lovely!
I’m Sabina.
Soon-to-be Sex Coach, Women’s Circle Facilitator & Poodle Mamma
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The Soft Landing
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A few months ago, I was sitting across from a dear friend when she whispered, “Sabina… everything in my life is falling apart. My marriage is crumbling. I don’t even know who I am anymore. I’m terrified I’ll never find my way back.”
And I knew that feeling in my bones.
Because five years ago, that was me too.
I didn’t just lose a relationship.
I lost everything.
My marriage.
My home.
My career.
My sense of self.
All of it disappeared in the space of six months!
All of it unraveled in the middle of a global pandemic, COVID-19.
But the biggest loss wasn’t logistical.
It was emotional.
It was the collapse of a life I’d spent years building, wrapped in roles that once made me feel safe:
The wife.
The teacher.
The woman preparing for motherhood.
And then suddenly… none of it fit.
Not because I outgrew it.
But because it wasn’t real anymore.
The Shock of Discovering My Husband Was Gay
There’s no manual for what to do when your partner comes out or in my case, you discover he’s gay before he’s ready to come out…yes, that’s what happened to me.
No handbook for the heartbreak.
No roadmap for the shame, the confusion, the grief that comes with the truth you never saw coming.
And still—his truth shattered my world.
Not because he was gay. But because everything I believed about my life, my future, and my identity collapsed in a single breath.
The house.
The dreams.
The baby names.
Gone.
And I was left standing in the ruins, asking: Who am I now, if I’m not her anymore?
When Your Life
No Longer Reflects Who You Are
Divorce didn’t just change my relationship status. It cracked open everything I thought I was. I’d spent years orienting my life around what I thought it meant to be “a good woman.” I had ticked all the boxes—career, marriage, a future of family life. We’d gone to couples counselling, telling ourselves that relationships are just “really fucking hard”…
….but under the surface, I had been disconnected from myself for years. And unhappy too.
When those structures disappeared, it felt like my soul had space to speak again.
The only problem?
Af first, I had no idea how to listen.
I didn’t know what I wanted.
I didn’t even know what I liked.
I was a stranger to my own body.
To my own desire.
To my pain.
To my own truth.
How A Sex Coach Sparked My New Life
A few weeks later, I had a call with a sex coach. I was numb, raw, still aching. But she said something I’ll never forget:
“Love isn’t gone forever. You can find it again—not just with someone else, but with yourself.”
That sentence cracked something open.
It wasn’t just about romance.
It was about self -intimacy.
Self-respect.
Self-trust.
Self-belonging.
Self-care.
Self-love.
I didn’t need to rush into a new chapter. I needed to remember I was allowed to exist beyond the version of me that had been attempting to perform perfection for years. And so, we began the work - finding what I liked (and didn’t like), what brought me joy, pleasure, excitement. Slowly sensitizing my body in the places I’d been numb. We delved into the shadows of shame, the stories keeping me small and ashamed.
And that’s when my healing really began.
What Healing Actually Looked Like
Let me be honest. Healing didn’t look like palm trees, journaling and drinking green juice in Bali (which is exactly what I wanted) …the global pandemic had other plans for me, with months of lockdown and travel restrictions meaning I couldn’t go further than 5km from my apartment.
So I had to face the mess, the heart ache, and for the first time in my life, I physically could not run away.
Healing looked like sobbing in the shower.
It looked like deleting baby name lists from my phone.
It looked like long walks with no destination, trying to remember how to be in my own skin again.
Healing was staring into the ocean and being comforted by it’s power and vastness.
It was messy.
Unsexy.
At times, deeply confronting.
But it was also the most honest I’d ever been with myself.
I wasn’t trying to fix, rescue or explain things.
I was learning how to feel.
And in that, I found something I’d never had before: the beginning of a sense of what it felt like to live inside my own body.
One of the most profound practices shared with me was a meditation on Self Compassion by Tara Brach. For a couple of months, I listened to this guided mediation almost daily.
It gave me a way to be with my emotions instead of drowning in them.
I also leaned on the wisdom of Glennon Doyle and Raphaëlle Giordano—two authors who reminded me that grief and reinvention can live side by side.
“This life is mine alone. So I have stopped asking people for directions to places they've never been. There is no map. We are all pioneers.”
— Glennon Doyle
Their books became sacred companions—holding my hand while I learned how to hold myself.
The Life I Never Planned… But Always Needed
Fast forward to now.
My life doesn’t look like the one I planned in my 20s.
It’s better.
So much better.
I met my now second husband in 2020.
We’ve built something that feels real, raw, and aligned.
Not because it’s perfect—but because it’s true.
I no longer live by the expectations I used to chase.
I live by what feels true in my body.
What I’ve Learned From Breaking Apart
You are stronger than you think. When you lose everything, you meet the parts of yourself you didn’t know were there. Strength lives in the rubble.
Tiny seeds change everything. For me, it was a sentence from a coach.
The unknown isn’t a threat. It’s an invitation. It’s where all your untold stories live. Where all your becoming begins.
The truth is…
You are not broken.
You are not too late.
You are not alone.
You are a woman in the middle of becoming.
A woman in the sacred mess.
A woman who is still worthy, still whole, still radiant—even now.
Trust the ache.
Trust the unraveling.
Let yourself fall apart if you need to.
Sometimes, that’s how we finally find the pieces that were truly ours all along.
If something stirred in your chest as you read this—if your body whispered yes—I’d love to stay connected.
I write letters for women like you.
Women who are tired of pretending, and ready to feel again.
Women who want softness. Slowness. Sensuality.
Women who are brave enough to begin.
Or start with a free journaling prompt: “If I let my body lead, what would she say I’m ready to release? And what is she longing to receive?”
Until then, remember:
You are not too much.
You are not too late.
And your body is yours to come home to.
With wilde tenderness,
Sabina Wilde xx
Certified Sex Coach (2026)
