I’m Divorced and a Divorce Professional—Here’s What I Learned with Valerie Jones, Life Coach, Author, Podcaster & Speaker

Back to Divorce Guide Magazine →

At Fresh Starts, we’re proud to spotlight the incredible professionals who guide people through one of life’s most challenging transitions: divorce. Today, we’re featuring Valerie Jones, a Life Coach, Author, Podcaster & Speaker, whose work helps clients find clarity, strength, and a true fresh start.


Valerie, what was your divorce journey like—what season of life you were in, the biggest challenge, and what supported you most?

I got divorced (for the second time) in my early 50s, after a two-year marriage that looked great from the outside but was slowly draining the life out of me. This divorce hit differently than my first, not because it was messier, but because I was different. 

This time, I had a front-row seat to my own awakening. I had spent years in an emotionally abusive dynamic, losing myself one compromise at a time. I had become the expert at walking on eggshells, minimizing my needs, and pretending things weren't as bad as they felt. And then one day, I couldn't pretend anymore. 

The hardest part? Leaving when no one else could see the damage. There were no dramatic fights or affairs to point to. He was a good guy. I'd just finally hit my limit on disappearing inside my own life. 

In the early days, I built rituals to anchor myself. I journaled like my life depended on it (because honestly, it did). I walked every day. I spent time in nature. I said 'I don't know' a hundred times a day and made peace with the not-knowing. And slowly, I started choosing myself in small but radical ways. 

I didn't have a roadmap, but I did have a spark. That spark became a flame, and that flame became The Selfish Woman - a movement, a podcast, a book, and a new way of living. 

I didn't just survive my divorce. I met myself inside it. 

What’s one thing your own divorce taught you that you couldn’t have learned otherwise? Looking back, what would you do differently in your divorce? What surprised you most about the divorce process?

My divorce taught me that I don't need a crisis to choose myself. Before my divorce, I only allowed myself to make big, life-altering decisions when everything was on fire - when I was exhausted, broken, or couldn't take anymore. Divorce taught me that I can make powerful decisions from clarity, not chaos. I learned how to honour my inner knowing before it becomes a scream. 

What would I have done differently? I would have trusted myself sooner. I waited way too long, hoping things would magically get better, hoping that if I just worked harder or communicated better or shrank a little more, the relationship would finally feel safe. I wish I had listened to the quieter truth inside me - that it was never going to change, and I didn't need permission to make a different choice. 

What surprised me the most was how lonely it felt, even when I had support. 

There's this weird isolation that happens when you're the one who leaves, especially when your ex seems 'nice' to everyone else. People assume you're doing fine because you're the strong one. But breaking a long pattern of self-abandonment is brutal, even when it's the right choice. What surprised me was how much grief came not just from the marriage ending, but from realizing how long I'd been gone from myself. 

How does your personal divorce experience shape the way you work with clients now? Do you feel your divorce gave you a different kind of empathy for clients? How so?

My divorce didn't just change my relationship status, it changed my internal systems. And it changed how I show up for other women too. 

I don't offer advice from the mountaintop. I sit in the mud with my clients because I've been there. I know what it feels like to smile on the outside while secretly Googling "Am I crazy?" at 2 a.m. I know the shame, the self-doubt, the bone-deep fear of blowing up your life, even if it's killing you to stay. My work is shaped by that lived experience. I walk beside women, not ahead of them. I don't coach from theory, I coach from the trenches. 

It rewired my entire nervous system for compassion. I don't rush my client's process. I don't shame their grief. I don't flinch when they say, "Maybe it's my fault" or "I still miss him" or "What if no one ever wants me again?" Because I've said those things to myself. 

Empathy isn't pity. It's recognition. My clients can feel that I see them - not as broken women, but as powerful souls in the middle of their own becoming. 

What’s one piece of advice you’d give someone going through divorce right now?

Here's the one piece of advice I'd tattoo on her heart if I could: 

Don't wait until you feel ready to choose yourself. 

You won't. You'll wait forever. 

You're not going to wake up one day magically fearless, fully healed, and bursting with clarity. That's not how it works. You don't feel ready first. You decide first. You say, "Even if I'm scared, I choose me." 

And that decision is the beginning of everything. 

Also - ditch the idea that divorce is a failure. It's not. You didn't fail, you ended something that was no longer aligned with your truth. That's not failure, that's truth-telling, and that takes guts. 

How do you encourage clients to see divorce not just as an ending, but as a fresh start?

I tell them this: 

Divorce isn't just the end of a marriage, it's the end of the version of you who believed that settling was love. 

It's not just paperwork. It's a portal. And walking through it - messy, scared, unsure - is how you meet the woman you were always meant to become. 

A fresh start doesn't mean you have to throw glitter on the pain and pretend you're fine. It means you get to stop lying to yourself. You get to build a life that fits you now, not the life you swore you'd stick with just because you once said "I do." 

I encourage my clients to get wildly curious. Who am I now that I'm no longer performing 'wife?' What do I want - without compromise, without approval, without apology? 

The truth is, divorce burns down the life that was never fully yours, so you can build the one that finally is. And that's not just a fresh start, it's a rebirth. 

What’s one misconception you had about divorce before experiencing it yourself?

I used to think divorce was a failure. That if a marriage ended, I had failed at love, at loyalty, at keeping the promise. That if I just tried harder, was better, kinder, more forgiving, more patient, it could've worked. I wore that shame like a second skin. 

But what I've learned - what divorce taught me in the most brutal, beautiful way - is that staying in something that's slowly erasing you isn't loyalty. It's self-abandonment. 

The real failure isn't the ending of a marriage. It's disappearing inside it. 

Now I know: choosing to leave was the most radical act of self-respect I'd ever made. It wasn't a failure, it was a beginning. 

What’s one thing that people are often surprised to learn about you?

People are often surprised to learn that I used to be a wallflower. 

I wasn't loud, or bold. I didn't take up space. I blended into the background so well that disappearing felt normal. 

One of my clients who knew me way back in my first marriage told me, "You were a completely different person back then. You just faded into the room." And she was right. 

I learned early how to be agreeable, easy low-maintenance. How to make myself smaller so everything around me could stay intact. At the time, it didn't feel like self-betrayal, it just felt like survival. 

The woman I am now - the one with a voice, a point of view, a presence - was always in there. She just didn't feel safe to surface. 

That's why my work isn't about becoming someone new. It's about reclaiming the parts of you that learned to hide. I know what it's like to disappear, and I know what it takes to come back. 

What does life look like for you now, after divorce?

Life after divorce looks like nothing I imagined. It's louder. Wilder. Unapologetically mine. 

I live alone (bliss), in an apartment on the 27th floor with a view of Vancouver. My home is filled with candles, books and sunlight. I drink my coffee slowly in the morning. I write, I build my empire. I walk to the ocean every day. I take up all the space in my own life. 

But it's not just the logistics that changed. It's who I am in the room now. I have a voice. I have boundaries. I have this unshakable sense that I am me, no matter who's watching. 

What does “fresh start” mean to you personally?

To me, a fresh start isn't about wiping the slate clean, it's about finally telling the truth. 

It's that electric moment when a woman stops waiting for permission and decides she's done performing. When she admits what she actually wants - not what's polite, expected, or acceptable - but what's true. 

A fresh start is messy, sacred, and deeply personal. It's not a new chapter, it's a whole new book. 

And this time, she's writing it in her own damn handwriting. 

Thank you Valerie for sharing your wisdom and experience with the Fresh Starts community! You can learn more about their work by checking out Valerie’s profile below!

Please note that the blogpost above does not represent the thoughts or opinions of Fresh Start Registry and solely represents the original author’s perspective.

 
Previous
Previous

Expert Feature Lyerly Spongberg, Certified Divorce Coach, Mediation Coach, Co-Parenting Specialist

Next
Next

Fortune Teller